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(For the purposes of this dream I note that I am not me but am inside the body of and am playing
the part of a young male Italian youth in his early teens, this symbolism would seem to certainly
tie in with previous dream dramas and themes, particularly the Italian theme).
Afternoon and I find myself heading down a green college campus park over towards a college hall
where a student disco is taken place, although I’m not a student of this university I intend to
sneak into the disco so that I can dance with the ladies.
As I get close to the dance hall an aggressive gang saunters over towards me and then starts to
chase after me, I manage to run away quite sprightly hopping and leaping as the vicious gang take
swipes specifically at my Achilles tendons with their sharp daggers.
As I run I realise I ‘m not going to be able to escape but fortunately I see a huge grizzly bear
sleeping in the middle of the park so I take a running jump and leap onto his belly as if it were a
trampoline. My intention is to wake the bear up so that he will do my fighting for me.
But the bear just wakes up with a puzzled quizzical twitching and turning of the head and then
grumpily falls back off to sleep, he is either oblivious to my predicament or considers my dilemma
not worth bothering with.
But it would seem that I am in luck as there is an enormous wolf also asleep in the park who I feel
I could awaken and get to do my bidding for me, so just like before I take a running jump and
sproing up into the air and squash down on the belly of the wolf to awaken him. The wolf gets up
with a jolt and snarls at me before flopping back down on the grass to continuing sleeping just
like the bear did.
It look like I am alone in my fight with the gang so I run up to the ridge of the park before
quickly swivelling around and embracing one of the gang members, we struggle violently in one
another’s arms and the gangster partly pulls my trousers down and tries to scratch or cut the
letter “G” into my right buttock with his sharp dagger.
I’ve had about as much as I can take so I pull out a little dagger of my own and stab the bully
many times quickly in his stomach, he wails and moans in my arms as he slumps to the floor. I
quickly make a dash for it in order to get away from the park and before his gang mates have a
chance to catch up with me.
I run and run back home and when I get back there I instinctively run inside (and yet my waking
life consciousness is surprised to find that....) I live with an Italian family above the Italian
restaurant which they own and run.
I’m really cross for being bullied and for not having managed to go to the disco dance to meet the
girls so in my anger I lift my hand to my neck and take a hold of a pure gold crucifix on a chain
and I aggressively yank it from my neck snapping the chain in the process. I curse the golden chain
and the Jesus on the cross as if it were the cause of all my woes and then chuck it into a black
old fashioned cauldron that is bubbling with some kind of soupy concoction in the kitchen, as I
walk out to where the ovens are I can imagine the gold necklace melting at the bottom of the
cauldron with a certain gleeful satisfaction.
I set about getting on with my daily work in the kitchen when an older male comes into the kitchen
and starts aggressing me in a loud fashion and shaking his hands at me in a very Italian sort of
way. I wonder what I’ve done now and the man opens one of the oven doors and pulls out a tray of
burnt baby bread rolls that were intended for the guests to eat with their evening meal when they
came to the restaurant to eat later on. These were bread rolls I’d put in the oven and then forgot
about when I snuck off to go to the disco dance.
I feel like a real failure and trudge out through the back of the restaurant kitchen and go out via
the back door for some fresh air and where I come out onto a suburban street.
Off in the distance I see a little toddler in the middle of the road pushing himself along on one
of these tiny little push along cars or buggies. Suddenly and very frighteningly and ominously I
see the very same shadowy gang that harassed me at the park saunter cockily over the brow of the
hill behind the unsuspecting toddler, all as if in slow motion.
The gang sneaks up on the little toddler and then pushes him very violently and quickly along the
road before letting go and launching him off into the distance in the direction of a row of
terraced houses. The toddler violently whacks into a front door of one of the properties where the
little car he is sat upon seems to accelerate continuously and aggressively bumping into the door
just as if it had lots of stored up potential energy just like a highly wound up clock work car.
Eventually the retired occupants of the house come out to see what all of the commotion is and
where the banging on their door is coming from. As soon as the grandmotherly lady opens the front
door the toy push along car with toddler still aboard now seemingly with nothing to hold back all
of its all of its pent up energy whizzes inside the house crashing badly against a hallway wall and
throwing the little toddler off where he falls to the ground and hurts his head.
I quickly run over to see what happened and if I can help. Once inside the lounge it’s not long
before a team of police arrive too in order to investigate the accident. It soon becomes clear that
I am the one being accused of causing the accident the baby suffered and that I’m going to be going
to prison for it.
As I stand their lucidly in the lounge cowering and frightened in front of the police I suddenly
realise that I’m no longer the Italian boy from earlier but am a female and that I will be going to
a women’s prison.
Thoughts: More of the same old thing I guess....but with a little progression maybe....kind of three steps forwards, two steps back. I'll try to come back later to add more comments and fill in the gaps.
Dream 1: Temporarily re-housed – Daytime and it would appear that my wife and I have been forced to leave our current house due to spiralling costs and an inability to keep up on payments. My wife has found another potential property to move into which looks a little like the one I often dream of renovating in past dreams, my wife decides that she wants this house so she purchases it. My wife takes me to show me about our new home, the entrance to the property looks like an old coach house entrance with a tall arched entry leading into a kind of covered vestibule before the forecourt proper. I look up to the big wooden beams holding up the roof and see that they are loose, there is a sudden shudder and some of them give way. I shout out to my wife warning her to keep away from the dangerous looking beams and ask her if she thinks it was wise to buy this property, as I look up at the clear plastic corrugated roof I see the rain hammering down outside and beginning to seep in where the beams gave way. We walk on into the examine the rest of the property for a look around, the house looks okay on the inside but as though it was put together in a very rushed and dreadfully hurried fashion, the walls have been clad in a jigsaw of square panels which doesn’t look particularly nice and also makes me suspicious that there is an unpleasant surprise hiding beneath. I check the plumbing and see that this seems to have been done to a reasonable standard which is slightly consoling as are the new appliances like the washing machine but I also notice that when the refrigerator door is opened it almost touches against a worktop which ends up blocking off access to various parts of the kitchen. I also see that the beautiful wooden beams up in the ceiling have not been installed properly and have been rushed, it seems like such an awful waste that somebody would go to all of the trouble to find these beautiful pieces of wood only for them to be then installed without any care or attention to detail. The layout and fabrication of the house seems slapdash and uncaring with no love or attention to detail but it looks like we will have to make do with it. I go outside and pick up a hose pipe and start spraying water on the exterior of the property as if to give it a wash down, I suddenly hear a man sneeze in a neighbouring garden and then say something straight afterwards as if blessing themselves in a foreign tongue (possibly Arabic I feel), looking through a gap in trellis covered in roses I see the man sat at summer table seemingly oblivious to my presence or perhaps secretly watching me. As I continue to wash the house down my wife comes out to see what I’m doing, inside I feel silently sad and just know that I can’t bring myself to live in this house forever, it will really have to be just a temporary thing.
Dream 3: Trading unused clothes for a watch – I find myself on the top floor of a clothing department store I am carrying two large bagfuls of my old clothes that I have brought along with me. I bump into the stores assistant and tell him that I would like to trade in all of my old clothes for a watch, the man gives me a chirpy and happy smile and he gets down on his knees and starts to rummage through all of the neatly folded clothes. After a while of looking through the clothing the man looks up at me with a very puzzled and quizzical expression and says holding up two pairs of denim jeans, one in each hand “But you’ve never worn any of these clothes?” I tell the man “Yes I know” in a slightly shameful and morose sort of way but such is my desire for a new watch that I’m willing to give up all of these unused clothes for a watch. The store assistant shrugs and says “okay then” but still not understanding why I would want to do such a thing as the trade-off seems most confusing and foolish, but with that he reaches up to a shelf and takes down a watch in a clear fronted box. I leave with my new watch and walk out of the shop eventually finding myself in the familiar location at the foot of the hill leading up to my Nan’s house just near to the old millpond and dairy. As I stroll along I take my new watch out of the packet to have a closer look at it, but I fumble and drop it on the ground where it smashes and breaks into pieces with the case coming apart to reveal a shoddy looking mechanism. I pick up the bits feeling somewhat more awakened and see that the watch is very poor quality and is just cheap tat.
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I find myself travelling in a car with a brother-in-law that I rarely dream of, my wife and her
sister (the wife of the brother-in-law who is in the car). We drive along the lane which runs
behind the terrace of houses where some grandparents that I rarely dream of lived. A small red Mini
car blocks the lane forcing us to take a detour and I wonder to myself who could have parked the
little red car in such a thoughtless position.
After having driven left around the car I enter a small courtyard and get out of the car and I
enter a tiny cramped one roomed house which I begin to explore. The elderly couple that own this
fairy tale property aren’t at home at the moment. I see that the elderly lady of the house likes to
bake bread and whenever she makes a particularly fine loaf she varnishes it and keeps it as a
memento or souvenir of a good recipe or bake that she has had.
The elderly man of the house also has a tiny wooden chair which looks like the tiniest chair from
the Goldilocks story, the little seat is very rickety and is in need of repair I pick it up as I go
to leave the house and take it with me on my travels.
I then proceed to go up to my Nan’s house where I meet my Nan and great uncle, my uncle tells me
that he would like me to repair the chair that I carry with me. I look at the chair and see that
the back panel has merely come loose from the uprights and all that is required is that a little
wood glue be placed in the mortis and tenon joint and then it will be fine. My uncle seems
disappointed by this news and for some reason seemed to be hoping (possibly with bad intent) that
it would take me longer to fix.
I go up to my old bedroom at my Nan’s and see that it is in disarray with lots of computer games
strewn all over the floor, the games feel as though they belong to my cousin (the wild one) and
they seem to be not looked after. I pick one of the games up and see that it is some kind of war
strategy game where one strategically places little troops of soldiers on a battlefield like in a
war game. I look at the blood red cover which has a feint grotesque samurai mask filtered over the
top of it “This must be the version of the game where one either controls an army or fights against
an army of Chinese warriors” I think to myself.
I eventually feel that I have had enough of being at my Nan’s house I feel bored and there is also
a very peculiar atmosphere which is very uncomfortable and slightly unpleasant in a surreal sort of
At first my Nan doesn’t want me to leave and becomes very clingy but I insist telling her that I
have to be on my way as I need to go and buy my dinner at the work or school canteen. As I walk up
the garden path my Nan calls out to me an asks me to modify the height of the garden gate making it
taller, I notice that the gate has been blocked shut with a large concrete or stone brick which I
have to move out of the way if I am to open it.
I attempt to adjust the height of the gate by drawing up the upper most part as if it were on
extensible poles but in the end I find it too finicky and a palaver and I just walk away from it as
it seems like a pointless exercise. My cousin comes outside with one of his friends and modifies
the height of the gate instead, I feel slightly emotionless and numb with the whole situation.
My Nan chases after me down the avenue and eventually catches up with me and apologises for all of
the upset and inconvenience back at her house, but when I turn to look at her I see that she
doesn’t look like my Nan but is a large Polynesian lady dressed in traditional clothes with a big
I walk away from the strange ambience and goings on at my Nan’s and down into the town, as I walk
along the street many people bump into me its almost as if I’m struggling against the flow and
everyone is pushing against me almost sweeping me along.
I then accidentally bump into a little boy who is holding a large clear plastic globe full of
colourful balls of candy or bubble gums, I inadvertently knock the globe like dispenser from his
hands and it smashes to the floor spilling his candy balls all over the pavement and street, he
shouts after me half angrily and half shocked saying “Hey!”.
I decide I need to get away from the hustle and bustle of the street immediately so I take a
doorway into a shop to my left in order to get off the busy street. The interior of the shop is
entirely red and has something of a waiting room ambiance which leads out to a special room at the
rear something like a doctor’s surgery out back or beyond. The interior of the shop has been hand
painted and has a bohemian air about it. I walk to the back room where I see my younger sister (not
my little sister who I dream of more often) sat upon a bed like couch which fills the length and
breadth of the little curtained room entirely.
It would appear that my sister is something of a fringe psychoanalyst who has interests in many
forms of esoteric psychology and spiritual healing.
I sit down on the bed with my sister and we have an informal chat as I flick through a National
Geographic style magazine that my sister has lying around for clients to read whilst they wait for
a consultation with her. My sister is talking to me about her healing practice and whilst I do
listen with interest to her an article in the magazine catches my attention and draws me in.
The piece of writing in the magazine has an accompanying photograph which becomes animated as I
watch it, it portrays a South American or Native American shaman removing some kind of spiritual
parasite from the stomach of a sick man who is writhing and struggling on the floor. I watch as the
kneeling shaman withdraws (without physically penetrating the man’s stomach) a black wriggling
ghostly two-dimensional ethereal scorpion from the stomach of the man, the scorpion is animated but
not quite real looking more like an ornate smoky black Chinese shadow puppet or a little like a
modern tribal tattoo.
The magazine article seems like mumbo jumbo phooey to me so I discard the magazine to one side and
continue listening to my sister talking about her work. But something draws me back to the magazine
I was previously reading so I pick it back up and finish reading the article, I feel very
interested in either getting in touch with the shaman in the picture or the person who wrote the
editorial so I look for a name or a contact telephone number, I feel the writer has written an
accompanying book which goes into more detail about the shamanic healing practices.
My sister tells me that she has some clients waiting and that I will now have to go, I turn and
look into the waiting room and see a lady sat with her back to me anxiously smoking a cigarette
whilst another lady sits in front of her also waiting.
I go to get my shoes which I must have removed before coming into the consultation room (something
like entering a holy place) and ready myself to leave, I feel worried that the little boy whose jar
of candies I smashed on the floor in the street outdoors will still be waiting for me outside
wanting some kind of retribution against me.
Thoughts: I think I’ll need a little longer to try and untangle this one but at a basic level it seems to be about healing something from my past, the removal of the parasitic scorpion may represent an over identification with or a need to remove those negative traits associated with this sign (my own astrological sun sign).