Tuesday, May 30, 2006


One side effect of the drugs- weird dreams. Totally weird. And this is coming from someone who generally has weird dreams. In the last 3 days, I have dreamt enough weird stuff to make a sci-fi movie.

Dream 1-
Let's see, there was a monster that was skyscrapper tall with one of those sucker mouths with its long neck flailing around and it was some sort of commander of troops. His troops were, strangely enough, a whole pack of huskies that were all lined up in some formation on a slope, ready to attack. Attack what? I don't know. Me, when I saw them, I was like "Ooooh! Puppies!". Ai yo, even in my dreams, can be ditz. Of course, the next second, I realised the great danger I was in, about to be mauled to death by cute, furry huskies baring their teeth, I ran. And at that point, I realised I was on the same slope and it was like a 20 m drop to some beach.

Ok, do not try this at home or faced with such a scenario because this is a dream and in dreams you can do super things.- I ran down the cliff, all 20 m of it. It felt like I was running down the rock wall in school except I had loose pebbles and stones falling all over me.

Next dream-
The fruit stall owner in my College apparently owned a huge house and for some reason, I was invited there. And there were strange fruit and plants. I think there was one that ate people as well. I don't know why, all I do is buy apples, guavas and the occasional papaya from him. It's not like I buy tau huay and all sorts of combination juices from him. A colleague of mine, without fail, would order a carrot, celery, honeydew melon drink everyday. Just thinking about it makes my stomach curl.

Dream 3-
I was looking for a swimming pool. That in itself is puzzling. I am a member of two clubs which between them have something like 4 swimming pools and I don't go anywhere near them. Anyway, I was looking for somewhere to go swimming and none of the pools I found had water in them. Perhaps all the huskies drank it all up.

Dream 4-
So I'm in a refugee camp, and I'm walking and walking. How do I know it's a refugee camp, there are tents and tents and tents, sort of like East Coast Park on the weekend or the holiday. I keep looking into the tents, looking for people that I know, but I don't find any. So, I just go on. And then I got tired and a McDonalds materialises. Then I think! Yay! I can get an iced tea. Then I realise that I'm in a refugee camp and I am a refugee and I have no money so I cannot buy iced tea. Then I kick a stone in frustration and I wake up. Because I kicked my life-saver, the tissue box off the bed.

Well, all ye Freuds out there, much fodder here to pyschoanalyse. Just please don't say I have issues with my father. That one, I already knew.

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Ondine tossed this thought in at 10:36

1 thoughts...

1 thoughts...

At 5:58 pm Blogger wahj said...

Your dreams are beyond any Freud or Jung's ability to analyse. = )


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