dreams - seriously weird.


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2017. already weirder than 2016.

Welcome to 2017 and as Hunter Thompson was wont to say, when the going gets weird, the weird turn professional.

Before you think excess alcohol and other potentially debilitating substances, New Year’s Eve – a very quiet family evening. I think I had one glass of sparkling, no cigar and crashed by about 11. So, there was no indication of what was to follow. I am not one who believes dreams are omens or insights so I have absolute no idea what all this meant.

I find myself in some weird, ancient stadium. On the outer edge. It is more like something from Gormenghast than what we expect today but this is where Bruce is playing and I am beside myself with excitement. I am kept on the fringes for a concerning length of time and then finally, they tell me that they are ready for me now. I thought I was to be at the back of a big stadium but no, I am led through all manner of weird ancient concrete halls to a small stand which overlooks the stage. As I approach my front row seats, I hear the E Street band cranking it up. But they are really off. Something is badly wrong. I look over the balcony and no Bruce at the front of the band but a guy in a bear suit. Anyway, he morphs into Bruce and they kick into Thunder Road and we are firing. All is well.

Next thing, a tap on the shoulder and I turn around and it is an old mate from high school and law school – Pete Crofts. Don’t see him often but I have seen him a couple of times this year. But there is simply no possible reason to link him to any of this or why he would have intruded into my dream.

Quick, he says, we have to go get my wife.

I'm watching Bruce, I tell him.

But he insists that it is essential for me to come and help him. I am not sure why, as I gather she is simply outside in the entrance area. But I leave Bruce. As mates do.

We go straight through the entrance area and into the carpark. I'm completely bewildered. I hop into Pete’s car and off we go.

What the hell? I'm missing Bruce.

No, he assures me, we’ll be back in a moment.

But we drive. And drive and drive. I'm getting frantic.

Next thing we hear cop sirens. What is going on? We arrive at Pete’s and pull in and his wife comes down the stairs, says hi. It is the last I see of her or the cops. Pete says we have to hurry if we are walking back. I am never told why we can’t drive back but we can’t. it has something to do with the now missing cops. But as Pete says, it is only a 100 yards up the road.

Then why the hell have we been driving for so long?

We walk back quickly and as we get closer, I hear strains of ‘Darkness’. We rush in but, and everyone is at all times, very helpful, the girl in the high concrete throne guarding the entrance says we can’t use these tickets. Once you have used them once, they expire.

We plead. I do much of the pleading. Okay, I do all the pleading. But she insists, as much as she would like to help. She suggests we go to the box office. It is about 100 yards away and we disappear to there, to bits of Jungleland. I am going insane, missing this. The box office is a massive area at this stage, later much smaller (oh yes, we’ll be back). It is a combination box office and bank. We speak to many people, all very helpful, but none can actually do anything (so like a real bank). I am begging. Meanwhile, Pete has got bored, the box office is now a combo box office and old person’s assistance room. Pete goes off and sits down with the too cool for school crowd and they are all dressed like they are in Grease. He pops up now and again throughout the rest of the dream but only to give me the finger, because he is one of the cool kids now. Meanwhile, some ancient old dear comes up to me, I can’t outrun her on her walking stick, and she keeps shoving stuff at me, speaking in Polish (no, I don’t speak Polish so I have no real idea if that was Polish but in the dream it was) and insisting I do stuff for her. She is led away, never to be seen again. Finally I get the manager who also assures me there is nothing they can do. Once I come out of the stadium, I can’t go back in. I beg some more.

Then she says, well, I might be able to get you in the back entrance. I am so excited, and I can hear strands of Rosalita filter through.

Next instant, I find myself down the back of this crumbling edifice. It is surrounded by a garbage dump and semi-swamp. There is no one around. I am frantic as I have to pack up all my fishing gear, eskies, fish bags etc to take in with me. I need them to watch Bruce but I can’t carry them all but I hear Bruce play on. What to do? Ah ha! This is a dump. I’ll hide them in it. So I bury all my gear and eskies etc, in the dump and some of them in the swamp itself. All that is left – no idea why – are two large jars of birdseed. So, I bury them under water in the swamp as well.

I knock on the massive blue, chipped doors. Nothing. No one comes. I bang on. Nothing. The door opens a touch. It was not locked. I stick my head in. there are 5-6 girls, the staff, all in deckchairs. They all tell me to shut up till the end of the song – the River, I think. It finishes quickly. This is right at the very back of the stage. One of the band members leaves, I can’t see who, but they are dressed as an angel. The girls all know my name and all assure me that there is no problem. They have a great seat for me. All will be well. I am beside myself.

I am heading that way, to my perfect seat, when one of the girls says wasn’t it great that they could help me and I could help them.

What do you mean, I ask.

Well, we can get you a prime seat and you have brought my husband’s racing gear.

What?

His formula one fireproof suit, for the race.

What race? What suit?

You didn’t bring the suit?

I have no idea what this is about.

I'm sorry, you need to get the suit before we can give you a seat. I hear Bruce cranking up again. Backstreets. I cannot miss that!

The angel never came back.

I'm frantic again.

Just then, a big, chubby, grinning, friendly bloke walks out. The husband.

No suit? No problem. We can go and grab it now and you’ll be back for the rest of the concert.

We jump in his car and we start driving back to the box office to get the suit. But he drives straight past. I remember thinking that he was a pretty poor driver for a race car driver.

I look at him and ask, what is going on?

He looks at me and says, where are we going?

I shake my head and say, ‘I haven’t got a clue’. Resignation floods over me and I slump in my seat, conceding I will not see Bruce.

And I wake up.

My first thought, the line from ‘The River’, ‘is a dream a lie if it don’t come true, or is it something worse’?

What does it all mean. I haven’t a clue.

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25 minutes ago, Ken Gargett said:

personally, i think it just means i am scared i'll miss bruce's concert here in feb.

That would be unfinished business that you'll regret because you weren't prepared to get tickets for you and your friends.:rotfl:

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1 hour ago, SaintMickey® said:

That would be unfinished business that you'll regret because you weren't prepared to get tickets for you and your friends.:rotfl:

no, i have tickets. friends have tickets. i have an appointment before one concert that might be a concern but only one. rest fine.

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8 hours ago, Ken Gargett said:

personally, i think it just means i am scared i'll miss bruce's concert here in feb.

I couldn't agree more Ken it's a subconscious fear of missing out I know the feeling counting down the days ;)

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8 hours ago, Ken Gargett said:

But he insists that it is essential for me to come and help him. I am not sure why, as I gather she is simply outside in the entrance area. But I leave Bruce. As mates do.

Like that would happen :lol:

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