Friday, 3 July 2009

ben's nightmares


  • I'm standing in the corner of a field with a load of people I don't know. The field is bounded by a crumbling stone wall, punctuated with simple wooden gates. It's summer; the grass is green, the sun is out, and WWII German fighter bombers are circling overhead. We are sheltered from view beneath the trees, but we need to get to the other side of the field; so we sprint desperately to the opposite corner whilst the German aircraft drop bombs which erupt into billowing clouds of deadly yellowish smoke. Those of us that make it to the other side then have to run back again. And so on.
  • I'm at some sort of adventure holiday camp at the top of a snowy mountain. I'm supposed to be going to do some climbing or something with one of the instructors, but when we step outside men with balaclavas and submachine guns appear. The instructor steps in front of me when they open fire, but the bullets go through her and into me. We're each left with four gunshot wounds to the gut, and I have the bullets stuck in me. I'm not too panicked, because I remember from Reservoir Dogs that it takes a long time to die from a gut wound. After about ten minutes there's still no ambulance, so one of the other guys from the camp drives us down the mountain in his car. It's a flimsy black hatchback; a bit like an old 80's Fiat Panda, but more crappy. The seats have all been replaced with those flappy plastic chairs that you sometimes get at bus stops. On the way to the hospital, the driver stops off at a remote pub. He collects a fruit machine, but it won't fit in the car. I'm wondering why we aren't getting to a doctor.
  • There's a shopping mall. It's in the middle of a rolling green landscape, and is shaped like a UFO; a gleaming white lozenge on stilts, with tiny windows and a set of escalators leading up into its belly. Inside, it is more reminiscent of The Wellington Centre in Aldershot. There is lots of beige vinyl. At the far end of the mall is a little toy shop. It sells loads of the old Warhammer 40,000 figures from the early nineties. I'm buying Harlequins. With power fists.
  • I'm in my parent's house. It's nighttime. I'm looking out of their bedroom window, but the view is different to how I remember; instead of trees and houses and gardens, there's nothing but a devastated cityscape. Fires burn in the shells of ruined buildings. Overhead, a fleet of zeppelins with swastikas on their rudders are divebombing the city.
  • I'm in a ye olde lecture theatre. I've just finished giving a lecture to a bunch of college kids. They seem dismissive. As everyone leaves, I take off my shoes so I can change into my boots; but one of them is missing. Someone's stolen it. I decide to put my shoes back on. Someone's stolen one of them too.
  • I'm in a motorway service station, but it doesn't look anything like a motorway service station. Other people I know are there. The atmosphere is awkward. They sell mice in the service station. All the cages of mice are piled on top of one another. One of the mice escapes. The motorway service station also has a dance floor; it is governed by a single bouncer who is slim, wears a black suit and has a little beard. He leads me out through a long corridor, and tells me that I'm drunk and can't come in.

4 comments:

Pixie said...

Do you require Dr Bex's Dream Analysis Service?....

I give you good price... You want?

Charlie said...

You are mental. That was for free ha ha. Seriously though anymore nightmares and you can come share my bed, i won't mind...just don't touch me.

Willard said...

Hey, bex has offered useful dream analysis, but I'm just going to give you useless advice and analysis instead. Hopefully it'll make you smile.

Dream One:-

This is a nerd question, but what kind of fighter Bombers? If it's Bf 109s you're probably Ok as their fuel endurance is less than 20 minutes over England. 110s, you're in more trouble.

I'm not sure, but I think freud said yellow smoke represents your fear of becoming the inventor of something as useless as the plastic spork.


Dream Two:-

The Fruit machine represents a deep complex where you fear being outed to your mum by Jeff proposing to you on live Tv as part of Britain's got talent.

Jeff is the fruit machine - a whirrling brightly coloured machine filled with delicious treats, accesible through a dirty slot.

Being shot in the gut by an anonymous man represents your fear of rape - a clear sign of latent homosexuality. The 80's Fiat Panda is your desperate attempt to prove that listening to metal in shit old cars makes you "not gay", as we say in Psychology.

Of course, I "could" be wrong, and if I am, you may have the plot for an awesome action thriller. I say book Josh Hartnett for the Ben Brooks role now, as long as we can ge Rob Schneider to play me.

Dream three: -

This one's simple.

You want to play an eldar army, but fear people would consider you boring and gay - boring gayness represented by Beige Vinyl.

Brightly coloured space elves in tight trousers with giant fists? I think that's a classic case of see dream two I'm afraid.

Don't worry. Just solve your problem by playing a "man" with three falcons in his army. In fact, any eldar army will do. This will provide enough aversion therapy to resist painting even the lovliest Jes Goodwin figures, or doing anything untoward with emo kids with fists like christmas hams.

Dream Four: -

Nazis again. Hmmm.

For the record, Zeppelin's can't divebomb.

I think this is all about eating too much cheese before bedtime and listening to Metal Bands in the early hours of the morning.

Dream Five: -

This is all about having your boots stolen. Your subconscious realises someone has been stealing your boots.Who do we know that likes big leather boots?

It's Matt "If it's not nailed down I'll steal it like Poland" Smith, of course. They're probably on Ebay as we speak.

There's no subtext here at all. Nothing about fear of aging or anything like that:)

Dream Six:-

This wasn't a dream. It really happened at Heston Services on the M1. Charlie, Marianne and I had to pay hundreds of pounds to a hypnotist to remove your memory of it.

I can't tell you very much more without shattering your psyche - You've seen Total Recall, right?

All I can tell you is a.) I did repay you all the money I lost in the craps game b.) the plan was foolproof as far as I was concerned; how was i supposed to know the bouncer would object to Charlie beating his dog to death with a shovel and c.) those Estonian hookers were never twins.

In summary, never lend me money, and stop matt now, before he builds zeppellins and fighter-bombers. Stopping him stealing your boots is the equivalent of preventing the remilitarisation of the Rhineland.

Equally, don't play eldar, and convince Jeff not to go on Britain's got talent. That Unicycle will never take his weight.

Charlie said...

The dog did look at me the wrong way, it was clearly justified...