In my dreams, I’m never drinking. It doesn’t even be on my mind (whether I’m drunk or sober going to bed). I’m mixing with people. Mostly new people. Making things. Doing things. Hanging out. Though sometimes there’s weed around. It’s usually somewhere I’ve never been before. A random house gathering somewhere in the country. I’m with people I know, even though I’ve never met them in real life. Sometimes it could be a house full of women. And contrary to popular belief, men don’t necessarily dream of scantily glad, high-heeled slutty types (Only occasionally, if we’re lucky. Though something ALWAYS thwarts the act of sex in these dreams). But ‘real’ women. Slightly overweight, in turtle-necks and jeans. Maybe short hair and glasses. True beauty. The kind of women I prefer to mix with.
Or it could be a group of people I’m working with, in a strange yet oddly familiar place. I had a dream once of working with a particular bunch of lads in a place in the country, that months later turned out to be where I ended up in treatment. I even recognised one of the guys from that dream. I’m not totally against the notion of premonition. It is, as The Doctor puts it, just ‘remembering in the wrong direction’.
These dreams are the better ones. The ones that show a possible future where I’m just getting on with life. Or maybe, as I like to think of things, dreams are a window into a parallel universe where things are played out differently.
Then there are the dreams which feature recurring places. Usually my grandparent’s house, or my family home (always much bigger in my dreams because my head remembers it from a child-sized point of view).
Or an old job. That comes up a lot. My first job, which lasted nearly 10 years. I hated every day of it, but I suppose my longing for routine and financial security makes me miss those days. It was also the job where I was pressured into drinking (and smoking), so maybe my subconscious head goes back there in an attempt to retrace my mental steps, and undo the damage. Grud knows, my conscious head does it all the time!
Then of course there are the bad dreams. The dreams where you can nearly feel a presence. A presence that feels evil. That grips you, and won’t let you wake up. Do you ever get that, or is it just me? ‘Cos it worries me sometimes. You need to scream to wake yourself up. And you may have one or two dream levels to go through before you ACTUALLY wake up.
I’d bad dreams recently, a couple of weeks ago. Can’t remember the exact details (pain forgets), but I had to shout to wake myself up. Except I was still dreaming. Again, can’t remember what about. Probably talking to my grandad who, although dead, has ‘gotten better’. Fair enough, head, but it’s still a dream. Wake up. I wake up to a party going on. Oh look, there’s that ex. Although we’re aware of each other, there is no attempt by either of us to communicate, even though we are mixing with the same people. It’s the subconscious again, trying to deal with things that were left unsaid in real life. We may START to talk, but just as you realise you’re dreaming again, because there’s no logical reason we two should be in the same room, and you wake up again.
This time you find yourself on a trolley-bed, in a hospital ward, surrounded by about 20 other trolleys, it’s the middle of the night, and you’ve a drip attached to your arm. You’ve been in the same clothes for days, and they smell. Hang on, you can’t notice smells in dreams, can you?
I want to go back.