Sunday, February 19, 2017

re: new dream. vague and woken up from it.

Hello friends, fans, foe and lovers,

here is another sequence from "Dream Journals and Nightmares," what may end up being a book someday? 

Feb 19th, 2017
I am pulled out of a dream by my youngest daughter, it’s a bad dream, something about falling out of a red sky and fighting someone, her hand gently touches my forearm and I’m pulled out of sleep faster than anything I can remember in some time. It’s almost instantaneous and for a few seconds I don’t know where I am and bolt upright startling her. Then I realize where I am and I look at her wide eyes, “are you okay daddy?” she asks and I tell her I am. She tells me “you were breathing fast and I thought you were scared, and I wanted a hug.” My breathing is fast, like I was coming out of a sprint, and I’m not certain if from the dream or waking up so fast and freaked out, possibly both?

I sit up and my neck is sore, in the dream I was being strangled by a man in military clothes as we well out of the red sky, from a plane I presume? I check my phone and it’s 7:13 am, I woke up at 3:55 am and sat in front of the computer for an hour doing research on dreams and then forced myself back to sleep around 5 am. I ask her how long she has been awake, which is somewhat silly, because she doesn’t have a fully developed concept of time yet, “ten minutes she shrugs,” and I ask her another question, “was I snoring?” She gives me a thumbs up, “but you were breathing fast.” That last two hours were incredibly heavy sleep, darkness and a variety of dreams that seemed to interweave with one another. We have a fort built in the living room, I’m on the couch and my daughters on the foamy on the floor in the little fort we’ve built. My youngest who woke me up climbs up to the couch and gives me a long, tender hug, “I like morning hugs she tells me and then tickles me under the chin.

I had dreams before I woke up at 3:55 am but can’t remember them for the life of me. Dream journals and nightmares will be a scary, fun and interesting journey for certain. My youngest daughter taps on an ipad and her older sister snores gently beside her and I know it is time for coffee and the morning rituals that get people up and at it every morning. I stare at the ceiling for a moment and contemplate the future and how dull life seems these days compared to the chaos and mayhem of the road. I wonder how this is impacting my dreams and nightmares. Many of my dreams are recurring, picking up where things left of, vivid colours and realities, often dramatic and tense, with life or death decisions being made on the fly. So unlike real life where it’s so mundane I can hear paint peeling off the walls. What am I doing?!? Fear and doubt kill dreams, I think apathy brings the nightmares, but who knows for certain?

I feel as though I am coming out of a vast, unending fog and finally waking up. Thanks for dropping by and reading. Until next time,


cheers,

Chris Bose.


Wednesday, February 15, 2017

re: dream journals and nightmares.......

Hello friends, fans, foe and lovers,

each night we fall asleep we enter a world of both dreams and nightmares. our minds way of decompressing the stresses, phobias, encounters and business of the day into surreal labyrinths where everything is an illusion and nothing is real, but it sure feels like when you're caught up in it.

so, i've always had strange dreams and i'm going to give it a go at something i'll call for now "Dream Journals and Nightmares," both of which i have some real doozies. the nightmares lately have been recurring with slightly different outcomes as sometimes i realize i am dreaming and push back as much as i can before being over run by my sub-conscious or force myself awake if i can't change the outcome of each nightmare.

sometimes when i do wake up i swear i hear something falling over in my apartment, like one of the monsters clumsily knocks over something as i wake up and take control of my "reality" once again, forcing it into a closet, under the bed or in the storage room to wait until i fall back asleep, then it comes out and creepily crawls over to my slumbering form and with needle like talons starts climbing back into my head through my ears or worse, my mouth.

so, here's the first instalment of this series of dreams and nightmares and everything that falls in between, enjoy if you will, or don't if you can't, i can't guarantee they'll all be wonderful experiences for the won't.

Dream 1: Dream Journals and Nightmares.


I’m lost in the city, a city somewhere, looking for my pick up truck, that I’ve parked in a parkade somewhere. I retrace my steps back to the last place I had it, but I’m wrong, it’s the parking spot on the street before I moved it to the parkade. For some reason I decide to go up through a top floor of a building and as they’re old buildings they’re connected and the ones that aren’t connected I climb over on each one through the roofs. It’s only about 10 buildings I go through, mostly weird trapdoors or holes between buildings, when I start to get to the end of the block back to where I was and I go through a trap or secret door into a warehouse full of empty bottles and cans. Stacks of them, tall and wrapped in plastic, all palletized and ready for shipping.

As I walk through the stacks looking for an exit or some kind of way out, I stumble across a scene that’s some sort of hostage crisis going on. From what I can assume, it’s the owner of the bottle return company whose kid is being held hostage by a cohort of the two guys trying to get or extort money from him. He’s dressed in black leather jacket and clothes and is worried about his kid, “Give me back my kid you bastards, I don’t have any money!” to which the kidnappers laugh and say ominously “We’ll see, find the money or we make a call and your kid is dead!” to which I awkwardly stumble into the room, they point their guns at me and the hostage guy says “help me!” A scuffle ensues between the owner of the company and the other hostage taker, a short guy in black clothes, he moves fast like a badger, low to the ground without missing a step or play in the deadly scene unfolding. Both look somehow grimy and sweaty looking, like they haven’t showered or had clean clothes in ages.

The other one of the hostage takers is quite tall, wearing a wife beater and red jeans, long hair and head band, sort of a burnt out hippy vibe. He has a hairlip and is sweaty, and not the brightest light bulb, but he’s got a hand gun, either a .45 calibre or 9mm of some kind and he waives it around casually. The one with the brains takes the other hostage and tells the tall hippy to take care of me somewhere and meet up later at a some meeting point. He grabs me and we start moving towards the front doors of the warehouse.

The hippy guy gestures me outside and it’s night, we walk around the block and we’re going to go to a wooded spot where he’ll take “take care of me,” but first he wants to get another gun and make it look like a fight. For some reason he starts jogging and tells me to as well, but he keeps going and gaining speed, he strides really long and quickly. On the left side of the street I see a wooded area between the buildings and on the right more city that seems to breathe and change with each breath. I watch buildings growing and shrinking, and I sort that it’s there that’s my best chance of escape, not wanting to die in a wooded swampy area with nowhere to hide. I tell him I bet he can’t run to the end of the block and he takes the bet and speeds gleefully down the street without looking back, I sieze the moment and run off between two buildings and climb up onto a roof top and jump a few over as silently as possible. I can hear him hollering down the street telling me to come out and “take it like a man.”

But I lay flat, hiding on a roof top praying he doesn’t find me, and eventually his hollering gets quieter and quieter, so I get up and scan the street not seeing him, I sort out my next plan. I ditch my coat and try to look different, climb down the building and head out the alley going up a few blocks and in the opposite direction of the shouting and hollering of the hippy looking frantically for me. Dawn is starting to show on the horizon, the sweat I have from running and hiding is starting to make me cold and I come to a bus stop and wait for a bus, I get on it and as it’s pulling away I see him running towards it.

Somehow he spotted me and I see him waving the gun at the bus and me, so I frantically tell the bus driver to go, and tell him that guy was trying to kill me and we got to call the cops. The bus rumbles off leaving the crazy guy running behind it for half a block before giving up. It’s an older bus, like from the 6o’s, the kind you have steps to climb up to get into but it lumbers off into the sunrise and I contemplate next what to do.

Then I wake up.

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This isn’t a particularly bad dream, I have recurring ones that are out and out nightmares, but can’t remember them at the moment for some reason. But here is the start of the dream journals and nightmares, one I’ll keep diligently day in and out.


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