I had a dream that I was flying through the air, being propelled by a rocket or a missile. I’m sitting on top of the missile trying to balance on it, which I achieve. When it lands it doesn’t explode and I’m close to warehouses which look like the ones in the final scene of Full Metal Jacket.
The rocket is either a reference to Dr Strangelove and/or a fairly standard phallic image, but with the added colour of your struggle to balance and the failure of ‘the rocket’ to explode. Clearly you’re experiencing difficulties or pressures in some walks of life, and while you are keeping it together you feel a diminishing sense of self, a fear of failure and a resentment of whatever or whoever you perceive to be causing these feelings
The Full Metal Jacket reference could be interpreted in a few ways. The scene in question has elements of male friendship, loss, survival and a brutal murder of a lone powerful female. One could propose that to enjoy camaraderie you must annihilate the female who threatened and attacked this aspect of your life. However this means crossing a previously uncrossed line and giving away something of your soul.
The simplest interpretation is that you’re struggling to please everyone, you blame your wife, you miss your mates and you’re going to overcome a moral quandary in order to resolve the situation.
Don’t shoot her though.
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Mickey Mouse. (Mickey Mouse.)
Mickey Mouse. (Mickey Mouse.)
Forever let us hold our banner high.
High. High. High.
Come along and sing a song and join the jamboree.
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E.
Did you pop some acid?
Who’s the leader of the club that’s made for you and me?
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E
Last night I dreamt that a white mountain goat walked along the phone cables that along the bottom of one of our fields…when it reached the last telegraph pole it just airt of skidded down a wire stay and headed off through a gap.
Stop eating feta before bed and shave more regularly
I don’t dream any more.
Would feta cheese help?
Lucid dreaming is something that you can train your brain to do supposedly if genuinely interested in exploring.
Give the feta a bash
I suspect it’s a much more deeply seated psychological issue. I shave daily and rarely touch cheese of any kind, so I’m afraid your interpretation must be discarded
Okay so I had the “I’m in an exam and I’m not prepared” dream last night. The setting was in the US and the subject was US Pop-culture it seemed and there was multiple choice answers. The supervisor over it who I thought I had a good relationship with kindly reminded me of no copying even though I wasn’t and moved me to a different desk.
What does this mean for me??
The opening up of international travel after 16 months in Ireland means you are afraid when you travel you’ll have forgotten the customs and cultures and social norms of other societies.
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I was feeling very unusual earlier Weak, nauseous… disconcerted even. I decided to lie down for an hour, but felt restless and uneasy. I found a recording of bach guitar partitas and played it at a very low volume. I considered learning guitar, my mind drifted off to a icosy workshop where I was polishing a Spanish guitar I’d somehow made myself.
I found myself in a bar in New York. Downstairs was nice but upstairs was a sterile white space full of smartly dressed people going through the motions of socialising. I made a few futile attempts to buy a drink, I realised the drinks were fake. I was about to leave when I saw a toddler who I suddenly realised was my son. We’d never met but we recognised one another, he held out his arms for me to carry him. He slept in my arms for a while and then jumped onto a mantlepiece. Suddenly he became much smaller and started playfully crawling along the narrow ledge before trying to leap back into my arms. He missed and I couldn’t find him. An ex wife appeared and located the child, who had reverted back to normal size.
I went back downstairs. On the way I met a man who was sort of dressed like a futuristic smurf, I also met a famous musician who said my jacket was nice but could do with being dry cleaned. I went to the bar and ordered a pint, the barman gave me a pitcher of a beer called scraggy bay. I took a roll of notes from my pocket but they were from every country I’d visited bar America. I took out several old wallets until I found my current one, all my cards had been stolen. The barman took back the beer and I went back upstairs. The crowd had cleared and a score of important looking people were sitting round a very large impressive boardroom table. An attractive Asian woman kindly told me I’d have to leave, but she agreed to look for my cards.
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Choco will chew on that one for a while I’d say.
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I hope he steps up
Bullet points please