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It’s daytime and I find myself high up on the flat roof of a tall apartment block which is situated out in the countryside all by itself, I am accompanied by the male owner of this illustrious property and a journalist or interviewer.
The owner of the property is knelt down and is in the process of fitting some kind of duct or air vent on the roof, I head over to him and offer a helping hand. The journalist comes over as well and starts posing his questions to the owner of the building.
The journalist asks the property developer how long it took him to become a millionaire, the question is said in such a way as if to ask how many properties the man had to develop and sell in order to accumulate £1,000,000.
The man turns to answer him says surprised “Why, I just had to sell this one”. What the man means is that he has recently sold the property whose roof we are stood on for a million pounds and hasn’t actually developed any other buildings.
Both I and the journalist seem surprised by the man’s answer as we expected his success to be a result of years of hard work and toil on the property ladder but his accomplishment seems to be simply down to his prudence, intelligence and wisdom.
The entrepreneurial man shows me some mental pictures of similar properties to his own in my minds eye, they are sort of snap shots to show how to be a success like him. I see images of nice modern, fresh clean apartment blocks standing solitary in un-spoilt areas of green grassy countryside, apparently it is the fact that the buildings are in isolation which is the secret of their success and desirability.
I’m made aware that any person willing to take on such a challenge need only build one such property well and then sell it on to be a success.
The owner of the property explains that now he has sold his property he plans to retire early and move to Switzerland and live in the meadows in the mountains. It’s a great story of success and accomplishment and inspires me to try and achieve the same.
Thoughts: I’d like to think that the property development in this dream symbolizes the development of
oneself, hence the idea of value in the £1,000,000 which makes me think of the expression to “To feel a
million dollars” I don’t mean this in the material sense though but in a spiritual sort of way. The special
housing developments in the dream all stood alone which could also serve to show how often in life
ones own self development is a solitary or personal affair. The idea in the dream seemed to be that one
just needs to make good foundations and stick at developing one good solid structure rather than
flitting backwards and forwards trying to juggle many different areas of personal growth, if done like
this everything else seems to fall into place. The duct or vent we were fitting on the roof seemed to be
the last little touch the man was making before he retired and again this is linked to more of my ‘air’
symbolism but here it felt positive and like an achievement or a finishing touch. The mountains where
the man planned on retiring too seemed very nice and the mountains subtly mirrored the large building
the man had just sold I thought.
Dream 1: Ready for adventure – I am immersed in some kind of adventure game and play the role of
some kind of Tolkienesque traveler or pilgrim on a quest, I am kitted out in a cloak with a hood and
have many handy little items with me all of which are intended to help me on my adventure. The fact
that I am so well kitted out makes me feel very content and raring to go.
Dream 2: Airport closed for re-tiling – I find myself entering into a vaguely familiar airport I walk up to
the check-in counter and hand my papers over to the lady behind the desk, she looks at my flight ticket
and tells me that my plane has already departed and that I’ve missed it. I’m very confused as I was
under the impression I had plenty of time hence my casual arrival, the woman becomes quite
aggressive with me and explains that my flight was booked to depart at 1:30pm and that I was
apparently given another hour on top of that just for the benefit of the doubt. It appears that I have
arrived five minutes after the 1 hour extension and the lady isn’t happy about it. I feel a bit confused
and go and walk around the vacant departure lounge, I see my Dad and brother-in-law sat on the
seats. My Dad gives me a very sinister almost deranged smile which puts me quite on edge, my
brother-in-law seems very strict and doesn’t even address me but talks about me to my father. I leave
the scene feeling partly unconcerned with their behavior but also a little disturbed. As I walk back out of
the airport I see lots of handymen cordoning off the stairwells and other areas with red and white stripy
plastic tape, apparently the airport is being temporary closed whilst some kind of refurbishment work is
going on. I walk outside feeling a bit forlorn and lost, but suddenly I hear a woman calling out to me
from inside the airport so I head back to see what she wants. I’m greeted by a very friendly blond
haired woman who tells me not to be upset and that I can come back again once all of the work has
been completed, I peer in through the glass door which she only opens ajar (as if stopping me from
stealing a peek) and see that the old brown tiles inside the airport are being resurfaced with new white
Dream 3: Spiteful women – I have traveled to England to visit relatives the dream has a very surreal
unreal dreamy quality about it. It is evening time and I find myself at my Mum’s house, I see my step
Dad is busy looking for some blank white paper the kind that would be used in a small computer
printer. I gather that he is doing a favor for my youngest sister, he comes across as being a little tired
or low on energy. I meet up with my little sister and she suggests we both go to the pub for a drink
together, we walk through a very mixed up scenario of many places I’ve lived, it’s a kind of mélange of
the towns and cities where I seem to have resided at various stages in my life. I meet my grandmother
at some point along the street and she gives me a big hug she is stood in a tall alcove which gives off
an emerald green glow, I get the feeling this will probably be the last time I have physical contact with
her again as I watch her she seems to transform and become younger. We carry on walking and both I
and my sister hear a very loud motorcycle and sidecar come roaring past us, the sound of the engine is
unbelievably raucous and the rider appears to be a complete maniac. He or she (it was difficult to what
the rider’s gender was) doesn’t even stop at the traffic lights but tears straight across the junction, it’s a
scary moment and I’m surprised there wasn’t a terrible accident. We eventually visit the pub and share
a drink together before heading back home. Back at home I distribute some gifts I have brought for
family members, I’m also aware that I have a pornographic magazine in my baggage with me which
has a shocking scene in it where a pregnant woman is being bullied by a group of other spiteful women,
(needless to say I don’t have anything of the sort in waking life). My Mum and sister know that I have
this magazine and are very curious to have a look at it, they want to try and sneak a peek at it but
don’t want to ask me directly I sense they will try and have a look when I’m not about.
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It is daytime and I find myself in a place which I feel like is somewhere in the east of Africa, the name
Somalia is vaguely suggested to me or planted in my thoughts. I am stood out in a clearing near to a
wide dusty road there is lush vegetation and trees about me and the earth and soil of the road is moist
I have the vague thought that this doesn’t seem like Africa as I would have thought that it would be
more dry and arid than what I am seeing before me. I am aware that this place or country where I am
is going through a terrible civil war or some kind of troubled times.
Just in front of me I see a large group of towns folk all huddled together tightly, there must be a few
hundred of them all tightly crammed clinging on to one another. It appears to me that they think they
will find safety in numbers so they all cling together in the form of a tall mountain of bodies.
There is a small contingent of white European journalists (I sense that the majority of them are Dutch)
here reporting on the country’s upheavals and problems. There appears to be a small faction of the
country that is extremely violent and fanatical and terrorises all of the other people.
Suddenly and as if from out of nowhere the group of villagers and reporters is surrounded by the
splinter group of terrorising and terrifying militia. (I am slightly removed from the drama and am more
of an observer although what I see affects me greatly emotion wise).
The whole scene seems to spiral into a most miserable and sickening display of gratuitous violence and
other horrific acts of cruelty and bloodshed. The journalists panic and try to escape but they have
nowhere to run, the town’s folk simply huddle even tighter in their large mound of bodies.
The fanatical faction mows down the journalists and their families with a spray of bullets, I watch with
horror as the people scream out and fall to the ground. The people don’t die straight away from their
gun wounds. I reflect and think that I always thought that people would normally die instantly from such
terrible injuries, but maybe I was wrong?
The large group of town’s folk are then set upon by the vicious fanatics, they spare no mercy and I am
forced to watch the absolutely horrific scene unfold before me. The poor towns people are treated
brutally by their sadistic countrymen. I watch in horror as men, women and children are mutilated and
hacked to pieces with machetes.
I absolutely don’t want to be here witnessing these atrocities and want to draw myself away from the
hellish scene, I seem to be being forced to endure the horror though, and am not permitted to leave or
stop what I am witnessing.
I watch as some of the towns people try to escape by running off into a small wooded jungle like area.
The militia catches them easily and butchers them without and pity. I watch on helplessly and in despair
as a woman is raped and her children are killed, whilst her husband has his arms brutally sliced off.
I can feel my thoughts beginning to race frantically about my spinning head and I desperately want to
get out of this nightmare as quickly as possible.
As the massacre comes to its grisly end the militia gathers up all of the mutilated bodies of the still
barely living town’s people and impales or crucifies the bodies upon a series of triangular spiked poles
embedded in the floor of the forest. I get the impression that this display is meant to serve as a
gruesome totem or warning to survivors or their enemies.
As I watch the guerrillas venture off deeper into the jungle I am left standing there alone in the eerie
silence completely petrified at the sight of the aftermath. One of the triangular poled structures gives
way under the weight of one of the barely alive victims, the poor soul crashes to the floor in agonising
pain with parts of the wooden spikes having dug into and penetrated his body.
I can’t think why I have had such a petrifying and horrible dream, as my state of mind has been
extremely upbeat and positive lately and all of my other dreams from this night were very positive too?
I vaguely recall seeing something about problems in Africa in the news recently but didn’t take note of
what it was about, perhaps the inner or subconscious me was paying more attention than I actually