SlipNet
The Living Force
I had an absolutely devastating dream 2 nights ago. In the dream I was hosting a house party in my home. The house was full of people, just milling around, chatting and drinking. I was in one of the bedrooms with a few guys, just chatting about the state of the world. This is normal for me; I've not been strong on small talk in recent years, I tend to come across as very intense to people who meet me for the first time. Naturally, the subject of Israel came up in conversation, and I was ranting for a fair while. Together we engaged in an intense discussion about the war in Gaza.
Then the dream got weird. For some reason, the long-deceased rock singer Michael Hutchence entered the room, complaining that I was being boring and preachy, and that we all needed to loosen up. I chatted with him and the other guys for a while, and he managed to steer the subject away from war and politics. To be honest, I didn't like him. He came across as a vain, preening type of bloke. I made my excuses and left the room to get another drink. And then things got worse. I was approached in the hallway by a man I'd not met before, and he was very hostile. He accused me of various things, and after a lengthy tirade he thumped me in the face with extraordinary force. I was stunned. I looked down at my shirt and it was splattered with blood. I haven't been in a violent situation for decades, and I didn't know how to react. In retrospect, this frustrates me; I should have smacked the bloke back, but I just went to another room to get away from this violent bastard.
Very strange! I've never had a violent dream before. Then the dream shifted in tone, and before I knew it I was in my town centre with some friends. It was the small hours, and people were piling out of the pubs and nightclubs, just milling about and chatting in groups in the town square. Then I was hailed by an old school friend, someone I'd lost touch with 30 years ago. We had a good chat and he offered me a bit of weed. Now, I've got history with weed, though I've recently given it up for good. It's been about 8 weeks since I've smoked the stuff, and things have been fine. However, in the dream I took some from this bloke, then he asked me to write down my phone number for him. This was a first for me in a dream too; I've never written anything in a dream before. My handwriting was noticeably different from reality, I noticed that much. Then, all of a sudden. I was rushed by 2 men who stole my rucksack which I had slung over my shoulder. I ran after them and chased them through the town centre. My wallet and some valuables were in the bag so I was anxious to get it back.
I caught the guy who had my bag and I managed to get it back off of him. No violence, I just took it back and walked back to my old school buddy to have a chat. As we were talking, another man rushed past me and stole my bag AGAIN! I was furious, and chased after him, but the dream at this point went a bit weird. Streets I knew well became strange and unknown, and I lost sight of the guy who had stolen my rucksack. By this time I was crestfallen. I turned around and began to make my way home. As I walked home through the town centre, a bunch of guys looked at me, and laughed among themselves. "Fair play,", one of them said. "That guy got bloody railed tonight!". Then they all began laughing and jeering me. And then, very suddenly, I woke up. It was about 6am, and dawn had crept across the sky. I was punch-drunk by this dream. It was overwhelmingly a negative experience. And it felt SO real!
I jotted down the memories as I smoked a morning cig.
I've never had a violent dream before, and I've never been mugged either. I was utterly stunned by this dream. I took it as a dual warning. Don't neglect your strategic enclosure, and watch out for who you talk politics with. And secondly, quit thinking about weed. And I don't know why that Hutchence bloke was in the dream either; in reality, he's been dead for nearly 30 years! He was an arrogant presence, and really vain, I didn't like him. All in all, a pretty traumatic dream. One thing's for sure, I'm never smoking that damn green stuff EVER again! As I've said in other threads, I used to be a real party guy, but no more. The warning has been heeded, big time.
Then the dream got weird. For some reason, the long-deceased rock singer Michael Hutchence entered the room, complaining that I was being boring and preachy, and that we all needed to loosen up. I chatted with him and the other guys for a while, and he managed to steer the subject away from war and politics. To be honest, I didn't like him. He came across as a vain, preening type of bloke. I made my excuses and left the room to get another drink. And then things got worse. I was approached in the hallway by a man I'd not met before, and he was very hostile. He accused me of various things, and after a lengthy tirade he thumped me in the face with extraordinary force. I was stunned. I looked down at my shirt and it was splattered with blood. I haven't been in a violent situation for decades, and I didn't know how to react. In retrospect, this frustrates me; I should have smacked the bloke back, but I just went to another room to get away from this violent bastard.
Very strange! I've never had a violent dream before. Then the dream shifted in tone, and before I knew it I was in my town centre with some friends. It was the small hours, and people were piling out of the pubs and nightclubs, just milling about and chatting in groups in the town square. Then I was hailed by an old school friend, someone I'd lost touch with 30 years ago. We had a good chat and he offered me a bit of weed. Now, I've got history with weed, though I've recently given it up for good. It's been about 8 weeks since I've smoked the stuff, and things have been fine. However, in the dream I took some from this bloke, then he asked me to write down my phone number for him. This was a first for me in a dream too; I've never written anything in a dream before. My handwriting was noticeably different from reality, I noticed that much. Then, all of a sudden. I was rushed by 2 men who stole my rucksack which I had slung over my shoulder. I ran after them and chased them through the town centre. My wallet and some valuables were in the bag so I was anxious to get it back.
I caught the guy who had my bag and I managed to get it back off of him. No violence, I just took it back and walked back to my old school buddy to have a chat. As we were talking, another man rushed past me and stole my bag AGAIN! I was furious, and chased after him, but the dream at this point went a bit weird. Streets I knew well became strange and unknown, and I lost sight of the guy who had stolen my rucksack. By this time I was crestfallen. I turned around and began to make my way home. As I walked home through the town centre, a bunch of guys looked at me, and laughed among themselves. "Fair play,", one of them said. "That guy got bloody railed tonight!". Then they all began laughing and jeering me. And then, very suddenly, I woke up. It was about 6am, and dawn had crept across the sky. I was punch-drunk by this dream. It was overwhelmingly a negative experience. And it felt SO real!
I jotted down the memories as I smoked a morning cig.I've never had a violent dream before, and I've never been mugged either. I was utterly stunned by this dream. I took it as a dual warning. Don't neglect your strategic enclosure, and watch out for who you talk politics with. And secondly, quit thinking about weed. And I don't know why that Hutchence bloke was in the dream either; in reality, he's been dead for nearly 30 years! He was an arrogant presence, and really vain, I didn't like him. All in all, a pretty traumatic dream. One thing's for sure, I'm never smoking that damn green stuff EVER again! As I've said in other threads, I used to be a real party guy, but no more. The warning has been heeded, big time.
