Okay, memories of last night are dissipating fast already it being four pm now but here goes;
You were ’lost in London’ again, and mostly by yourself, but you had several encounters with people, can’t remember any now but I don’t think they were real.
I was stood alone on a concrete staircase looking at exits, it was a grim car park in daytime. I recall seeing a hooded guy, maybe your age stood a hundred feet away looking dead at you. Yes, now I remember, you had packed that guitar case with your personal effects, books, that BSA rifle, pipe, photos? You made a hasty exit knowing you’d be attacked or most likely followed and mugged. There were more than one of them hidden to the left as you darted onto the street. Somehow you managed to escape, but at some point you were grabbed buy someone, and the guitar case came open revealing all your personal items. Nothing was lost. Or stolen.
Next thing I can remember was being lost in that suburbia again.
Like with the recurring London fiascos, none of these locations are actually real, seems to be a product of many random memories all rolled into one. A memory salad. Very vivid it has to be said.
Another point you are in a tall building at the top of the stairs. You’re not alone.
Again a theme constant in dreams lately has been the empty flat downstairs, inhabited by many people ‘moving in’ some wanted some not, some familiar some not.
I think it is often that they are there at the fault of my own, they are there illegally perhaps, and the burden rests upon you.
Right on. Next was a spot you discovered nestled into the houses. As you walked up the gravel path, it was quite steep, you noticed a secluded beach to your left. This was without a doubt Eastbourne, but again it wasn’t anywhere real. You turned left--possibly still eluding people?--- and admired the beach and its many dwellers. Poor choice of words, they were neighbours of the area and apparently this was a private beach. I remember a boy of eight or nine telling you this and shouting to some adults, maybe his dad, that I was there and should leave. I remember thinking--yes actually having vivid enough dream to think-- that this boys dad would not mind as I was only by myself and was at the back of the beach, and for some reason he knew I just wanted to watch the beautiful sunset into the sea, which was there. In fact I actually said this out loud but the man never replied, yet we had a mutual understanding, all the while I ignored this selfish little wanker of a boy. I remember perching down on the sand watching many people enjoying the beach and the excellent temperature. I remember The whole scene was very vivid but not lucid. I watched the larger than normal sun go down but somehow missed the last moments, almost like it accelerated itself. People said out loud, something like “there it goes”, and you stood up and just caught another tiny glimpse of it again. I felt it was worth leaving now. I stood up and there was the boy again, he didn’t bother me this time and apparently I didn’t him, but this was because he could see I was leaving.
He said to you with a smile, as you looked slightly downhill towards him;
“You realise you’re never coming back here”
“I know”, I said “But neither are you”
Interesting. I did not realise I was dreaming at this time but I remember thinking when I said “neither are you”, that I did not mean he would not be coming back to the beach, but that he would not be coming back to me again. Him being another figment of my imagination, he was me.
As you left things got less real. I literally dragged myself up a pretty steep slanted hill, and to you right was the most awesome and photogenic dusk, although the cast of light suggested the sun was still up. It looked just like the graveyard in Old town, by Cavendish school. It was a dusty sort of glow, and made some gorgeous silhouettes of the pine trees, Douglas Firs. Then I was able to think to myself again. Carlos Castaneda’s wisdom from Don Juan, on the ‘Last Battle on Earth’ rang again and I thought how I could act then and there as if it were my last. There was not much I could do differently but I elected to drag myself uphill using only my hands, as I felt this would be more rewarding. As I dragged myself using the flat of my palms, I felt different, and this action led to my ability to awaken. It was 1:10pm.
Wednesday 13th June 2007