First I would like to extend a warm welcome to all members of my family for gracing my dream with their presence for the first time. Yep, pretty much all of them made it... let me explain.
I find myself in spectator mode for this part of the dream. I am way across the street facing a massive warehouse. Actually, it would be better described as a hangar and a massive hangar it was. Whoever they were were building this top secret weapon of some sort and it had to be huge to be built in something like that right? Damn right! Let me try to explain what it looks like. Imagine a huuuuuuuge mechanical manta ray with flapping wings and a flexible tail and you are pretty much there. When I say huuuuge I mean as big as a frickin Boeing 777!! It was supposed to the latest and greatest sea-faring invention of all time, but with serious destruction capabilities.
Of course the behemoth developed a mind of its own and went crazy.
Now we go back to my spactator mode, where I see this mechanical manta burst through the front gates and charge down the highway with no wheels I might add (it being made for the sea and all). Somehow we find out that it is going to show up at a certain location at a certain time for this big showdown and here we are all excited and looking forward to it as if it was some damn fireworks show. Here is where my family and some old friends come in.
First, the new location. Picture an island, with your house on the top of the highest hill overlooking the entire coastline of beautiful sandy beaches and beautiful torquoise water. The showdown was supposed to occur right at the beach at the base of our hill and we were perfectly placed. Despite the threat of death and destruction, all our family members showed up one by one, Uncle Fouad, Bunty, Penny etc to watch the show. I remember us all sitting on the grass with our plates on our laps, eating dinner and waiting for the manta to show up. Even a few friends from boarding school showed up, which was strange but was nice at the time.
Sorry to disappoint you folks but I woke up before the damn thing showed up! It's just that the whole dream leading up to that point was very interesting. Wish I was more artistically inclined, then maybe I could have drawn alot of this for you rather than try to explain it with my limited use of the english vocabulary, but what the hell.... it is only a dream.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Monday, June 05, 2006
Got ticker?
This was quite a freaky ass dream I must say. A buddy (don't know who) and myself went to this party. There is the outside party, where we were, with rows of jacuzzis lining the garden separated by these roman style pillars and there is the INside party. Of course only special invitees were allowed inside. We were told that we can only enter with a "ticker" and no I don't know what a ticker is, but the only way to get one is to send these designated kids inside to get one for us. So we go around looking for these kids and find one very innocent looking 12 - 13 year old (as if there are many guilty looking kids of that age...avi excluded...hehe). We recruit this champion to go get our ticker for us and his adventure begins.
He walks into what looks like a frat party, mainly with dudes all over the place drinking etc. He is not sure what to do and is not being helped by anybody. The person who ends up helping him out is one I would not expect. This helpful chap happens to be Danny Mukhi. Now, for those of you who do not know Danny, he was a friend of ours from Ghana who passed away around 10 years ago. He took our young lad to a corner and explained quietly that he was supposed to go upstairs to get the ticker. All this while Danny's "friends" were peaking around the bend with an evil look in their eyes which probably meant Danny was doing something he was not supposed to do. We don't know what happened to Danny after that coz we follow our ticker getter onwards and upwards. He goes upstairs and finds himself in this wild world of sex and drugs. There are chicks everywhere half naked, laughing, making out with guys, feeding them, dancing with them and anything else you can imagine. Our young fella is a bit uncomfortable with this situation (I mean who wouldn't be, with naked chicks and booze and drugs lying around right? :)
I think on a subconscious level I wanted the kid to stay there coz we are now shifting to another scene a few floors higher. Picture a grieving widow on one side, facing about 4-5 ladies with nothing but evil in their eyes. They are convincing her that her husband died because he was cheating on her and was a major asshole etc. Her tears stopped flowing and slowly but surely she was getting sucked into their soft words of reassurance and their fake smiles. All this while just behind these ladies, the air started to shimmer and something began to take shape. It was none other than her dead husband, looking deader than ever and kinda freaky if you ask me. He cried to her (more like a ghostly wail) not to believe them as it was they who killed him. His last words were "Avvveeeennnge meeeeeeeee". Man, you should have seen her then. From a weak, grief stricken widow, she suddenly turned into the female version of Jet Li! Evil bitches were flying all over the room and the main evil bitch was kicked right over the railing and fell all the way down. Let me give you the layout before I continue. This scene was on maybe the 4th or 5th floor of a with the staircase going up in a square shaped formation with the middle empty from top to bottom. I hope it's clear. Anyway, the main evil bitch goes all the way down and our vengeful widow after manhandling the rest start swinging down the railing like tarzan and eventually lands on the bitch on the ground floor with her high heals slamming right into her. Now, instead of her bursting and spraying blood all over, she simply breaks apart like kindling you would throw into a fire. Pretty wild stuff I tell you.
Now that that little piece of drama is over with, lets go back to my friend and myself. It seems our little guy never came back so it fell on me to do the honours. I somehow managed to figure out a way to get inside so I started to make my way from the jacuzzi on one end of the garden to the building on the other end. In between, the party was rocking with people also making out all over the place. Just before I get to the steps leading up to the entrance of the building, I come across this huuuuge bed, with guys rolling around on it. I mean it was packed with fellas, all fully clothed just rolling around as if they were fucking drunk or something. Nothing sexual but kinda weird all the same. I spot Dinesh (my elder bro) also on the bed and he's wearing my shirt!! For some reason I get pissed off and am trying to yell at him for wearing my shirt. This dumb looking bouncer steps up to me and rudely asks for my pass before I even attempt to enter the building. I angrily flip it across his face and tell him to piss off. Dinesh sees this and gets annoyed at the bouncer and starts yelling at him to apologize while I am trying to yell at him again. He seems also pretty drunk or fucked up on something so it's hard to get through.
At this point I start getting the feeling that I am oversleeping and will be late for work and decide to wake up. Abrupt ending to a funky ass dream..... I hope I have more of them....:)
He walks into what looks like a frat party, mainly with dudes all over the place drinking etc. He is not sure what to do and is not being helped by anybody. The person who ends up helping him out is one I would not expect. This helpful chap happens to be Danny Mukhi. Now, for those of you who do not know Danny, he was a friend of ours from Ghana who passed away around 10 years ago. He took our young lad to a corner and explained quietly that he was supposed to go upstairs to get the ticker. All this while Danny's "friends" were peaking around the bend with an evil look in their eyes which probably meant Danny was doing something he was not supposed to do. We don't know what happened to Danny after that coz we follow our ticker getter onwards and upwards. He goes upstairs and finds himself in this wild world of sex and drugs. There are chicks everywhere half naked, laughing, making out with guys, feeding them, dancing with them and anything else you can imagine. Our young fella is a bit uncomfortable with this situation (I mean who wouldn't be, with naked chicks and booze and drugs lying around right? :)
I think on a subconscious level I wanted the kid to stay there coz we are now shifting to another scene a few floors higher. Picture a grieving widow on one side, facing about 4-5 ladies with nothing but evil in their eyes. They are convincing her that her husband died because he was cheating on her and was a major asshole etc. Her tears stopped flowing and slowly but surely she was getting sucked into their soft words of reassurance and their fake smiles. All this while just behind these ladies, the air started to shimmer and something began to take shape. It was none other than her dead husband, looking deader than ever and kinda freaky if you ask me. He cried to her (more like a ghostly wail) not to believe them as it was they who killed him. His last words were "Avvveeeennnge meeeeeeeee". Man, you should have seen her then. From a weak, grief stricken widow, she suddenly turned into the female version of Jet Li! Evil bitches were flying all over the room and the main evil bitch was kicked right over the railing and fell all the way down. Let me give you the layout before I continue. This scene was on maybe the 4th or 5th floor of a with the staircase going up in a square shaped formation with the middle empty from top to bottom. I hope it's clear. Anyway, the main evil bitch goes all the way down and our vengeful widow after manhandling the rest start swinging down the railing like tarzan and eventually lands on the bitch on the ground floor with her high heals slamming right into her. Now, instead of her bursting and spraying blood all over, she simply breaks apart like kindling you would throw into a fire. Pretty wild stuff I tell you.
Now that that little piece of drama is over with, lets go back to my friend and myself. It seems our little guy never came back so it fell on me to do the honours. I somehow managed to figure out a way to get inside so I started to make my way from the jacuzzi on one end of the garden to the building on the other end. In between, the party was rocking with people also making out all over the place. Just before I get to the steps leading up to the entrance of the building, I come across this huuuuge bed, with guys rolling around on it. I mean it was packed with fellas, all fully clothed just rolling around as if they were fucking drunk or something. Nothing sexual but kinda weird all the same. I spot Dinesh (my elder bro) also on the bed and he's wearing my shirt!! For some reason I get pissed off and am trying to yell at him for wearing my shirt. This dumb looking bouncer steps up to me and rudely asks for my pass before I even attempt to enter the building. I angrily flip it across his face and tell him to piss off. Dinesh sees this and gets annoyed at the bouncer and starts yelling at him to apologize while I am trying to yell at him again. He seems also pretty drunk or fucked up on something so it's hard to get through.
At this point I start getting the feeling that I am oversleeping and will be late for work and decide to wake up. Abrupt ending to a funky ass dream..... I hope I have more of them....:)
Friday, June 02, 2006
Fragmented
Air Force One had been hijacked, and I seemed to have ringside seats for the ass-kicking of Harrison Ford. Weird though it was, it seemed like I'd landed on the set, except it was all a live sequence and there wasn't any director waiting to yell cut. No, it was more like the real deal. And I couldn't do anything to help, or even to make a difference and take a potshot at Mr. Ford, you know, just for fun. It was like I was a forced silent witness to the fighting that was going on. Oh yeah, if I said ass-kicking I meant fighting, because he was hitting back but the dudes who were pummelling him seemed to be doing so a little more effectively...because he was spitting blood everywhere.
Then, we shifted scene to another movie, and although I couldn't tell which one it was specifically it seemed to be something out of The Fugitive. What was the common element? Mr. Ford was fighting off some other bad guys who were making him spit blood everywhere...again. And as intese as the scene was, you know, people getting thrown around and breaking furniture and other assorted objects with their falling bodies, it sucked to just be around. I wish I'd dreamt that I was eating some popcorn or something. But that's how this sequence ended...just Harrison getting messed up a bit and trying to do the same to the guys who cared to do the same to him.
-----
And then I was in a bookshop. No scenes of rumbling here, thank God, because it was nice and quiet...just the way I like a bookshop to be. I was glancing around aimlessly as I am usually wont to do, but in no time my eyes fell on something that piqued my interest. It was a book by Daniel Quinn, and it was titled "Book 8: The Insects Become One". Now, he hasn't written a book like this, but Mr. Quinn is an author I've come to respect for some pretty extraordinary ideas. I've bought three of his books so far and none of them have failed to interest me. But what about this book in the dream? I mean, Book 8? He's written about 10 books so far. And about insects? Well, I didn't glance through it, and I vaguely remember purchasing the book and leaving the bookshop to go home and read it, just before I woke up...but it didn't make sense.
-----
The last installment of this post has to do with a fragment of a dream that happened three nights ago. It involved a lot of fighting like in the Harrison Ford example, except I was on the receiving end, so to speak. It was wierd, and I didn't make much of it then, but after last night's dream I just got to thinking, "What the hell is up with all this fighting?" Anyway, it involved someone picking a fight with me, and me backing off because that's how I usually deal with these things. But this person, who wasn't familiar but seemed to vaguely resemble someone I knew eons ago, kept at it and finally started shoving me around.
On the third shove, I lost it and hit back as hard as I could. The rest of the fight involved formidable blows by both of us because we were doing a whole lot of blood donation to the sidewalk. And then I told him to take it easy because this wasn't solving anything. He seemed to back off...or at least to back off long enough for me to begin to leave. The moment I'd turned my back on him he was back to picking a fight...or re-picking it even. And I didn't understand why he was doing it, but I decided to put an end to it and made the first move. More blood donating...more formidable blows...and the next thing I knew I'd broken his arm at the elbow and was threatening to rip it off at the shoulder if he didn't cease and desist from this foolishness. And that's when I woke up, short of breath, and wondering what the hell had just gone on.
Then, we shifted scene to another movie, and although I couldn't tell which one it was specifically it seemed to be something out of The Fugitive. What was the common element? Mr. Ford was fighting off some other bad guys who were making him spit blood everywhere...again. And as intese as the scene was, you know, people getting thrown around and breaking furniture and other assorted objects with their falling bodies, it sucked to just be around. I wish I'd dreamt that I was eating some popcorn or something. But that's how this sequence ended...just Harrison getting messed up a bit and trying to do the same to the guys who cared to do the same to him.
-----
And then I was in a bookshop. No scenes of rumbling here, thank God, because it was nice and quiet...just the way I like a bookshop to be. I was glancing around aimlessly as I am usually wont to do, but in no time my eyes fell on something that piqued my interest. It was a book by Daniel Quinn, and it was titled "Book 8: The Insects Become One". Now, he hasn't written a book like this, but Mr. Quinn is an author I've come to respect for some pretty extraordinary ideas. I've bought three of his books so far and none of them have failed to interest me. But what about this book in the dream? I mean, Book 8? He's written about 10 books so far. And about insects? Well, I didn't glance through it, and I vaguely remember purchasing the book and leaving the bookshop to go home and read it, just before I woke up...but it didn't make sense.
-----
The last installment of this post has to do with a fragment of a dream that happened three nights ago. It involved a lot of fighting like in the Harrison Ford example, except I was on the receiving end, so to speak. It was wierd, and I didn't make much of it then, but after last night's dream I just got to thinking, "What the hell is up with all this fighting?" Anyway, it involved someone picking a fight with me, and me backing off because that's how I usually deal with these things. But this person, who wasn't familiar but seemed to vaguely resemble someone I knew eons ago, kept at it and finally started shoving me around.
On the third shove, I lost it and hit back as hard as I could. The rest of the fight involved formidable blows by both of us because we were doing a whole lot of blood donation to the sidewalk. And then I told him to take it easy because this wasn't solving anything. He seemed to back off...or at least to back off long enough for me to begin to leave. The moment I'd turned my back on him he was back to picking a fight...or re-picking it even. And I didn't understand why he was doing it, but I decided to put an end to it and made the first move. More blood donating...more formidable blows...and the next thing I knew I'd broken his arm at the elbow and was threatening to rip it off at the shoulder if he didn't cease and desist from this foolishness. And that's when I woke up, short of breath, and wondering what the hell had just gone on.
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