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Syndicate Dreams & Strange Fruit

I'm not sure why or how, but somehow I had a big house. Either I was given this house or I'd attained it through some shadier means, but I was suddenly richer than Barry Seal, with maybe not 2000 acres worth of land but a house that was like a castle, with a gigantic living room - candle-lit like in Castlevania - where I danced with a girl who didn't know how to dance.

I didn't either. She practiced her steps while I went to the bathroom to practice mine, and yet we somehow both danced like professionals when we were together on the floor, accompanied by the shine of a thousand candles, under high-set portraits on the walls, with thin round pillars holding up a terrace that ran along the edges of the room.

She drove away, and I stayed in my house, wondering what I'd do about her. For some reason I was very secretive about my... everything about myself. Maybe the house wasn't mine? I'm sure she was an accountant or a lawyer - something related to the house, but it seemed like our relationship might sail further than that.

The house reminded me of Häringe Castle, but bigger. The living room and dance reminded me of the introductory one in Eyes Wide Shut, the girl of Nicole Kidman, and the feel of it all like American Made: like the world around me might crumble if only those I relied on took a wrong step.

Later on we were in the city, me and a group of people I'm not sure of - one might have been my brother, and we'd been infiltrated. A girl. I don't remember exactly how it happened, but though I really didn't want to I had to kill her, or they'd be on to us. It was a sad moment, but we realized there must be a very professional group working behind the scenes, since nothing about her led us any further up the chain of command.

Suddenly the world was crawling with these people. We were spread out, and had to take care of at least a few of them each. Some of us were driving. Some of us were in parking garages. On rooftops. In the city square. They kept to the shadows, real professional-like, but we managed to sniff them out anyway.

When it was all done we met up in a little garden, where some kind of strange fruit was growing in the ground. One of the guys had managed to save it from the group, and we realized that this must be the secret. This was how we could figure out who they were really working for.

We never did though. I woke up and that was the end of this strange dream.

Maybe details would've been clearer if I woke up to write this right away, but for some reason the main scenario is still fresh in mind, even though it's been a while now. Best write it down quick though... and leave the dream interpretation to all of y'all. Was definitely one of the weirder ones in a while now.

Handbags, MAX & Vice City Buses

I dreamt I was up at MAX, Storheden, Luleå, just beside COOP, the supermarket. I'm not sure where my parents were, but I had their handbags with me, and I was in some kind of booth with self-service automats through which I was to order my food, and didn't know where I should put those handbags.

So I kept them with me, and I ate my food, and then I hid them behind one of the self-service automats and went shopping.

Clever.

There weren't many other people at MAX though, and in my dream it didn't seem like a security risk at all, but I'm not sure what happened to those bags. Before I woke up they'd been forgotten.

I didn't shop anything either, I just waltzed around the store, made my way out, and back to MAX where I bought another burger. I didn't want to leave the handbags, and my parents still weren't around.

This time I had some company though! I don't recall what we chatted about, but I decided to take some photos through the window, at a city that now looked a lot like Budapest, but with the streets submersed in water. It was both a beautiful and a dystopian scene, like Venice, with the sunshine glistening off the rooftops as if they'd been sprayed by salt... but also lonely and desolate, with not a person in sight, and the city streets branched out endlessly against the horizon.

The resolution on the photo was a bit weird - stretched out, and I realized I'd been taking pictures in the wrong format. So I switched to a more wide-screen version and it was all good.

And that was the end of that part of the dream.

Handbag mystery included.

Loose ends in my dream.

Earlier on I was driving through the streets in Vice City, heading towards the airport with my parents. We were on a bus, and everything looked just like it does in the game... but we never made it to the airport. We kept circling about. We made our short airport trip as if in an endless loops, constantly going back to the starting point and taking the same route once again, as if the city was unrealistically small (which it is), and a real trip to the airport had to take longer.

I'm not sure if we ever made it to the airport, or what happened to the bags, or who my company was at MAX. That's where it all fades away, and I wake up late.

The Crumbling Mackerel Balcony Dream

I had a really strange dream today (a few days ago at the time of posting).

I stood on a balcony - one of those that runs along the side of a building, around the corner even - accompanied by a large amount of other people. There were people of all ages, men and women and children, and some of them were jumping beside the fence, trying to see over the edge of it.

The concrete floor swayed a bit, and I was wondering how long it would hold. There was a gap between the fence and the floor as well, and I worried that some might slip through this gap. The people looked to me for guidance, but I wasn't sure what to give them.

The building stood over a hill running parallel to our balcony, slanting down, and it was as if the ground made way for sand, and a desert dystopia further away. I'm not sure what was over the edge of the hill above us, but it may have been mountains. Jagged peaks and valleys.

Though it looked like a regular apartment building, and we were all dressed casually as well, it seemed more like a stronghold the way it was placed, and just recently we had stormed the building to take control.

I'm not sure how many of us died, but I'm sure there were many, and yet we all wanted to leave the place now. We were hanging around until I said otherwise, and I didn't know what to say.

I found a small puppy almost hanging over the edge between the fence and floor, towards the end of the balcony, and I drew it back in to keep it from falling out, flipping it over in the process, and suddenly it was a slice of grilled mackerel.

It was dead.

The mackerel broke into pieces as I flipped it, and a larger dog - or maybe it was a kid - eyed me suspiciously as I did this. He was hanging close to the edge too.

I decided it was time to leave, and so I stood up and spoke to the people. I don't remember what I said, but I remember it was an inspiring speech, that I felt bad about the dead mackerel, and that this is when I woke up.

Just another one of those dreams...

The Burning Bus

I dreamt that the bus caught on fire.

My family and I were on one from the airport, though I'm not sure where we'd been, and in one particularly tight curve of the road the side mirror of the bus brushed against some dry grass, and suddenly the back of the mirror was ablaze!

We must have been in the UK, because the bus driver was sitting close enough to start swatting the mirror with a piece of cloth - the right mirror, and it didn't look like the tropics. He kept driving at the same time, trying to kill the fire by wind, too, even if that didn't seem to work at all.

In my mind I thought about how fire feeds on oxygen, and wondered if the fire wouldn't burn slower if we stopped... but we were all scared of slowing down too, because for some reason the bus was highly flammable, and it felt like if we did the fire would engulf the whole bus instantly. Even if it was just the mirror on fire. Separate from the main body of the vehicle.

Up until now we had been driving on country roads, far from the hustle and bustle of city traffic, but suddenly there were other cars on the road, an intersection was coming up and the city streets panned out in front of us. My dad ran to the front, and while the bus driver focused on the driving my dad leaned further out the window and managed to swat the fire on the back side of the mirror to really extinguish all of it.

I sat and wondered about how a mirror could catch fire like that, if it was really possible. If the grass was dry enough maybe. If particles from it somehow stuck to the mirror. That and the extra friction...

Moments later we'd stopped, everything was good, and we were fetching our suitcases from the bus. They were locked in on some strange seat-like docking stations that rose from the floor when you pulled at your suitcase.

I picked the wrong one first, but it was my sisters so that was OK. She wasn't on the bus for some reason but we had her suitcase too. I was about to fetch my own right after but... that's when I woke up.

Just another one of those everyday crazy bus ride catching fire dreams.

The Dystopian Dream

Earlier this week I woke up from the most dystopian dream I've had so far.

It started pretty cool. Me and a group of people I no longer remember were walking around the outskirts of a city, on a sandy area that was either desert or beach, when we came across a large, empty canal cut out in the sand. It had flat, sloping edges, and a flat bottom, all polished and straight, leading out towards the ocean where the excavators were just about to clear the final stretch to the water, and have it all come rushing in.

I imagined being at the bottom of that canal, and drawing that canal, with sketchy and slating lines to really capture the edges, and then came the water. Instantly the ocean swept its way in; filling it with water. I was surfing on the waves. I followed the rise. I witnessed the water first-person as it claimed the bay.

It turned out this was all a part of filming a new music video for Eminem, and the canal wasn't the biggest part, but more importantly the gigantic mountain of sand that towered behind it, rising to the left of the canal like skyscrapers of a city. The contours of the sand wall weren't obvious at first, but when they said it was supposed to look like the back end of a Chevrolet we could see it clearly. The lightning shifted. It looked like a rusty icon dredged down into the sand, lost to the decades that'd passed before it.

And behind this sand wall there was actually a city, with colorful lights and flickering neon. It was night, but it was bright. We walked along the aisles (because they really were more like aisles than regular streets and sidewalks), and looked up at the lit skies with awe.

Then it was time to go back, and this is where the dystopia started. The sky was once again that of an early morning with thin clouds filtering the sunlight, and we crossed a bridge to get home.

I didn't remember that bridge being there before.

At the highest point there was an intersection, with the crossing road leading straight into a wall of rubble, and we saw excavators or bulldozers shoving around large rocks below in a landfill of gigantic proportions, a field of stones and pitfalls deep below us, so large it'd be impossible to cross, and impossible to climb without the stones tumbling down on you.

It was like the excavators kept the field alive: a deceptive stretch of living stones just waiting to crush and bury you. A set of guards waited on the bridge, and I don't remember why but at first they wouldn't let us through.

But then they did, and I ran home, past this barren land, and embarked onto a forest road that slithered by a river, with dry autumn-like grass and leafless trees shimmering in the sun, the water running wild beside me.

Eventually the road became flooded, and I didn't want to go any further with my regular shoes, so I ran back again, thinking about how different the world was as soon you managed to get outside the s city. The divide was instantaneous as soon as you went down from the bridge and came into the forest. The light. The colors.

Everything was vibrant and full of life, and it might not sound like it, but that intersecting bridge was the heaviest notion of future dystopia I've ever been in. As I stood by the guard post I felt caged like I don't think I ever have in real life.

But then I was out, back in the wild, and I'm sure there was a bit more to my dream, like this fight with police I have some vague memory of (it ended with them letting me out, asking if I'd had some time to think about what I did, and I just said yes, the police are my enemy now, that's it).

Then I woke up to frosty landscapes and a warm winter sun.

Life's not so bad after all.

The Bird Dream

I dreamt of autumn fields, sun, a fading day, trees swaying in the wind as I lay on the grass and feathers.

Mom was coming closer - done with some chores further down the field, and I spotted a couple of fieldfares high up on the strawberry nets. I called out about it, but the net wasn't all in place, and one of them seemed to be getting ready to dive through, down to the ripe berries below. So I stretched out my left foot towards one of the sustaining poles, intending to scare them away.

Bam. I kick the wall by my bed. The sound vibrates through my head, the pain wakes me up and I wonder if I need some Arnica Gel for my foot... and sorry neighbors! If you were sleeping on the other side of that wall I'm pretty sure you're not sleeping any more. Ouch. Oh well. Maybe I could go back to the birds and feathers and fragile dream...

No luck. Guess I'm up a little earlier today.

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