This is a collection of descriptions of dreams I actually dreamt.
"Then YOU try and have a discussion with a teaspoon that lies!" Those were the last words in my dream this morning. Those also were the last of the words from his deceased daughter that had been recorded, and the dictator could now listen to it again thanks to some gadget. It made tears come into his eyes.
But meanwhile I was ordered to work in the five-double decker train. It was really too high and so I, while it was driving, had to lower the storeys. 73 centimeters was enough, the dictator thought, and I turned a crank until the storeys were of that height. After that I had to check the windows and curtains in each carriage. The height was indeed not a problem at all. None of the travellers had noticed anything. I saw a zeppelin in the air.
Monday 21 July 2008
We were in a far away absolutistic country. We were guests in a palace and we would get to watch the annual parade by the king. He held a march in the street, with many donkeys and other cute animals, and all the way in the back was a crocodile, as if to show that in his kingdom donkeys need not fear to be devoured by crocodiles. He was a small and fat man. The idea came to me to write a book with a first chapter from the king's perspective, the second chapter from the people's perspective, etcetera.
I saw a news report that the Israeli parliament wanted to allow governments of multiple political parties, because they felt that forming governments made of only two parties was too difficult. And I saw a poster with the following text: "Don't make time. Be that time." In the poster were a woman in a long coat and a dog, but on closer consideration the woman, just like the dog, appeared to be made out of plush. The woman was a plush ketchup-bottle.
A little while later we drove around in the city, in a double decker bus without a roof. From afar I could see sirens and shortly after that from the opposite direction police-motorcycles drove past us. The king was on the last of the motorcycles, a heavy trike.
Sunday 5 October 2008
I was in a hall-way in a department store, and it was very crowded. There even was a traffic jam, and I moved from the left into the right lane. Somebody ahead of us in line said: "You may all go now, because it will not come today." And most people left. I and about six others stayed. Now that the multitude had left, the doors of the elevator could open. The person who had shouted "You may all go now," said: "Otherwise the doors could never have opened." I stepped into the elevator, that had a floor in the shape of a chute, and asked the people that stayed behind: "Where is this elevator going to?" They shrugged their shoulders. No idea. I got out again.
With two others I was on a terrace and I thought: There is no such thing as a mother tongue. When speaking, everyone uses the words he or she thinks will be best understood by the listener, no matter what language.
Somebody on the terrace wanted to have a squeegee washed, because she had just used it to smear her bread, and I took it with me to the bathroom. It was in a cellar, and above the canal there was a shallow basin to wash oneself. A carriage without horses passed, and the people who were sitting on top of it moved bicycle pedals around, as a touristic attraction.
Monday 1 December 2008
In Germany I was looking for oil, and to find it I went by bicycle through all of the country. I knew I had to watch for landscapes in the form of craters. Somewhere in a rural, sparsely populated area I found a crater, hidden behind the furthest houses of a small village, so that it wasn't immediately visible. Once I had come closer, I could clearly see: this really was a crater-shape that signified the presence of an oil-field.
I did not yet dare to walk on the floor of the crater in search for the oil, fearing that I would fall through. In one of the openings of the crater-wall I found empty cigarette-boxes and beer-cans, and I thought: How remarkable that the German youth never found out that this is a crater and never found out that there is oil here. Never before had someone dared to walk on the floor of the crater.
When I awoke, there was music in my head I had never heard before, with the following lyrics: "Baldeekee Dow-Dow."
Tuesday 10 February 2009
But first I let a dinosaur and a Neanderthal leave the floating raft. After that I went on my way. At first I controlled the raft from behind a computer screen, but later on I was on it myself.
The raft appeared to be a train with different carriages. Each traveller had designed their own compartment. One compartment was chaotic, and in another the traveller had constructed a miniature railway, that went above and below all furniture.
I maintained the contact with the driver of the train. To do that I had a flying umbrella, that enabled me to fly above the floating raft, but sometimes I ran through the corridors and compartments of the train.
When we had almost reached our destination, I was asked to tell the driver something. The telephone was out of order (for Europe, the United States and the rest of the world), and so I ran through the corridors to the front of the train. Meanwhile the compartments already were getting deconstructed again. The contents of the chaotic compartment was scattered across the corridors, the miniature railway was being deconstructed, and I did not get to the driver in time.
All of the inventory was displayed to be sold by auction. I tried to walk through the gallery to get to the other side. When I said I wanted to speak to the driver of the train, I was told: "Oh, but that isn't necessary anymore. He has spoken to the minister a long time ago already."
Friday 20 February 2009
Somebody offered me to travel through time. I chose to travel to the date of my birth. When I arrived there, I needed to bicycle to the correct location first. In the passing of time the country had changed a lot.
I needed to search when I arrived there. When I arrived at the correct address, the curtains appeared to be closed and I couldn't look inside to watch myself be born.
Sunday 25 April 2010
I read about a priest in Portugal who said he was the messiah. Even more so, he called himself the messiah Messiah. Later I met him and interviewed him.
He was old, and all his life the villagers from the town where he was born had believed in him. But the church had made his life miserable. To support the villagers he had tried to sell a large quantity of alcohol, but for a long time the church had withheld the permits.
His life was a chain of disappointments and opposition. I decided to write a story about him.
Thursday 27 May 2010
I was in a shop that was part of a bicycle mechanic's shop and that sold jewellery and baubles. A showcase contained a piece of wood with some metal strips attached to it. Next to it something was written about its subtle design and it said that it represented an aeroplane. It was the very first object the bicycle mechanic had started selling apart from his regular work. The price tag read 514 euros. I took it to the owner, indignant about the high price, and said: "Will you just take a look at that!"
He looked at it, mumbled something and then walked to the cash desk. While I waited, he chose some beads and ropes, and put those in a little bag. He thanked me and gave the bag as payment to me. I had some trouble explaining him that I had not intended to sell it and that it belonged to him.
Friday 4 June 2010
I went for a night out in the town. I put on my new suit, that was made to look like my exterior. I stepped into a skin that looked like my body, and then I put a skin over my head that looked like my own head. Hardly anybody noticed that it was a suit and not really me. It was hot inside. There were holes to look through and a hole where my mouth was.
After having taken it off and put it on again a few times, little cracks started to appear. I thought it might be wiser to throw away the body and to keep the head on the windowsill at home.
Monday 14 June 2010
I was the only survivor of the last airplane disaster of this planet. There had been only eight airplanes then. Since then people used spaceships for larger distances. After the disaster airplane shad been changed into cars by removing the wings. Since then I was responsible for speed checks and I decided that 60 kilometer per hour was enough.
I was the only person who knew that apart from myself there was another survivor of that last plane crash, and I was in regular contact with him through a telephone or computer-like machine. It was John Lennon.
Thursday 30 September 2010
The plan to move the city encountered a lot of resistance. The city council wanted to have the city dismantled and have it rebuilt a few kilometres further down, exactly as it was now. I was walking through the city and used a video camera hidden in a plant to capture the citizens' confusion.
A popular host of television shows was a corrupt troublemaker and by order of the city council kept on repeating in his daily television show why it was so important (according to the city council) to move the city.
I was able to find my way in the city I didn't know, because there was an enormous piece of art in the shape of a DNA-molecule built above the city, from the southeast to the northwest.
Finally it was decided to not move the city and I used my video camera to capture the arrest of the television show host.
I dreamed I woke up. I read a graphic novel that described the move of a complete city, and I understood that this graphic novel must have been the cause of my dream just now.
Monday 6 December 2010
I was a member of an English aristocratic family, and we lived in a mansion. One day the mansion appeared to be on fire. There were fires in multiple rooms. We did have water but we had no fire-hose or buckets in the house, and so I ran across the fields to the witch, a cast-off family member.
In the house of the witch I had to steer clear of various ghosts and creepy spirits, but eventually I found her. While the witch was stirring something in a cauldron, she pointed out a fold-up vase to me. With it I ran through the fields back to the mansion. I noticed the fires on the first floor had gone out by now, but the fires on the top floor were even more intense.
"You do know that this signals the end of the house, do you," I asked a small child. Yes, she knew. Once inside the house again I unfolded the vase the witch had given me, and filled it with some difficulty with water from the tap (the shape of the vase kept changing). I tried to get the water to the top floor but the stairs were gone, and it didn't help much to swing myself up, going from painting to painting. After that I gave up trying to put out the fires, and I joined the rest of the family, who were in the salon on the first floor, reminiscing about the past.
Sunday 29 January 2012
I was watching a propaganda movie in black and white about the communist takeover. It was winter. Soldiers were jumping up and down on a park bench to destroy it. Their superior asked why and they said the bench needed to be destroyed because it had been built by capitalists. The next propaganda movie was about an ingenious submarine the communists had built.
I was swimming next to the submarine that was made out of metal sheets, but looked like a large dolphin. I swam around it for a while, but unwillingly kept returning to its head, that was surrounded by lots of rubbish. The dolphin tried to push me in a certain direction. After a while I decided to not continue avoiding its head but to push against it. It gave way. On its nose there was a button that I pushed, and I succeeded in making it swim backwards to the shore.
The people on the shore were not happy. Someone said I had endangered six lives. I answered that I had had no less than nine good reasons to push the submarine to the shore anyway, and I swam away. But somebody swam after me and caught up with me. I was taken into their house.
My room was filled with bugs, that the owner of the house had pasted behind the wallpaper. I walked to the petting zoo and outside the fence petted a small goat until it started to jump up against me. Meanwhile the zookeepers were busy lifting little lambs over the fence and giving them away. Numerous people were glad to take the lambs.
I walked back to the house to change clothes. Afterwards I went to see a concert by Genesis, that comprised only Mike Rutherford, who was a woman, and a keyboard player, a drummer and a violinist. During the break the female Rutherford stayed on stage and lit a Havana cigar. The keyboard player, who was sitting right next to me, gave me one too and tried to start a conversation with me. After a while I decided to light the Havana. Its taste was not bad, but a lot of people were annoyed by the smoke.
After the concert I went to the funeral. I think it was my grandmother's. I found myself a place to sit, but decided to go back to the entrance to be able to quietly finish my Havana. There I found that I was wearing a bright yellow and blue suit, not very suitable for a funeral. And so I walked back to the house.
On the way to the house there was a Triumph 2500 waiting for me. The driver, a British spy, told me my place was in the back, and that we would soon leave on an espionage mission. I asked if it would come in handy if I were to shave first, and the spy answered jokingly that there was no need for me to be bald. No, I said, I just meant my mustache and beard. Yes, he agreed, that would come in handy.
Friday 7 December 2012
I was visiting Iran, with a group of people. We stayed in a youth hostel. I was standing on the countryside, just outside a village, and on my smartphone I was watching a movie a colleague (who wasn't there) had made about Iran.
I heard nearby that somebody in the street got shot dead, but I didn't see it because I was watching the movie at that moment. I saw bystanders run towards the corpse. "That was a journalist who for years had been making life difficult for the government," people in the street told me. They were clearly not happy with their government.
At the market of the village three mind-reading goats invited me to come and make a camp fire at night in their meadow. Although they were very friendly, I didn't feel much like doing it because I didn't want to be outside after sunset.
Friday 11 January 2013
Somebody had built a time machine. It was used to save works of art just before they would be destroyed and to transport them to the present. I helped but I was worried that the extra weight on Earth would eventually slow down Earth's revolutions.
Wednesday 22 January 2014
John Lennon is in town and he gives out signatures in a theater. We want to go too, and I have managed to get tickets. This of course is extra special because Lennon took all this trouble despite his death. That can't have been easy for him.
I bring a very large animal skin for him to draw his signature on, and we wait next to a column by the entrance of the theater. Once we're inside it appears to be very crowded and from far away I catch a glimpse of Lennon.
Thursday 30 January 2014
I was at the graduation of a friend. There were quite a few people in the room already, and someone had written on the blackboard: please do not throw your caps into the air.
It became clear that she wanted various people to sing for her and I found out late that she wanted me to sing something too. She had written a song for me that started with: "Dear robot" and that ended with the line: "shipping containers of Stearns, Akway, Godfrednison". The song ended in the middle of a sentence, and I wondered whether I should just make up the rest of the sentence.
Thursday 1 October 2015
It was a Sunday and we were in Haarlem. The shops were closed, but I knew a way to get in. There was no staff. "I always enjoy doing this so much," I told Laura. "And I don't need to buy anything." Once outside a brass orchestra of at least thirty people made music on the square in front of a large church. They played their own interpretations of country-classics and covers of songs by Normaal. That sounded strange. It wasn't beautiful but I enjoyed it anyway, and we sat down to listen. Next to me there was someone recording the concert.
Friday 11 March 2016
We were looking after someone else's house. We knew that somebody would come to do some gardening. After a while I saw a giant in the garden, a man of around two and a half metres tall, all dressed in blue and wearing a golden crown on his head. "That must be the gardener," I thought. "Coffee?" I asked. "No," he replied, "I'd rather have tea," and he started to work. When I came and brought him his tea, I saw he was already halfway; the garden was neatly raked.
Saturday 3 December 2016
I drive a red tin snail and visit people at their homes. I have the roof and the side windows opened.
At the people's homes I use some sort of small plank to rub on the spots that have not been worn down that much. Almost everybody accepts. Some people have nothing but worn down spots at home. I am mostly interested in the spot right in front of the television.
The last of the houses is a student house. It is now five o'clock and the students come home from work and hang at the bar. Everything is worn down in the house.
Sunday 1 October 2017
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