Back to the village
Last night’s main dream was in a familiar setting. I have these dreams every so often. They are set in the village I grew up in, Southwick, in the south-west of England. In this village there were all these quiet roads and cul-de-sacs where we used to play football, tennis, manhunt, and so on.
In my dream, I was with two friends – I think it was Katie and James – and we were all grown up, just walking around the village. My memories of that village and the houses are very vivid, so everything was there in great detail. It felt good to be back there, and though I don’t think any of us were speaking, each of us was reminiscing about our childhoods.
We got to one house and there was a tall figure, all grown up: It was John Ballantine, but some reason I thought his name was Burbage. I used to know another kid called John Burbage, but he was a lot younger than John Ballantine and I wasn’t really friends with him. I called his (incorrect) name: “Burbage! Burbage!” He was standing at the foot of his drive smiling. I haven’t seen him for more than ten years, so I really don’t know what he’d look like, but in my dream his hair was a lot calmer than it used to be. When I knew him, he had this kind of manic, afro-like hair; in my dream he had it cut short and looked quite respectable.
That was all I can remember about this dream. It was a happy dream, as dreams of my childhood always are, although they are always mixed with melancholy because they are of people I will likely never see again.
How old are you?
Recently I had a dream that I was holding a piece of paper. On that piece of paper were printed two names: my name, and the name of someone I know on the Internet named Roger. By my name there was my age, and by Roger’s name it said, “56 years old”. I woke up and thought perhaps, for the first time, my dreams had discovered some sort of psychic power. I sent an email out to Roger to find out how old he was.
To my disappointment, Roger is only 40 years old. I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out why 56 is significant, but I can’t work it out. 56 could be the ages of my mother and father, but I’m actually not 100% sure how old my parent are (sorry mum). If my mum is 56 then this dream might start making some sense. I should ask her really.
Power up!
I think this dream may have been triggered because I’d woken up a bit distressed at 5 a.m., had a slightly worrying phone conversation, watched half an episode of The Simpsons, and then fallen asleep again at around 6 a.m. In this dream I took on the role of Mario of Super Mario Bros. fame. This was a great dream really, and one that I’d love to have again.
I have New Super Mario Bros., a game for the Nintendo DS. I haven’t played it for around a month, but in my dream I assumed Mario’s position in that game. Sometimes I would just be myself watching the game on an enormous screen, but sometimes I would be able to see into the game and be Mario. The colours in the game were a lot more distinct than usual, as if someone had turned the contrast right up. Everything was very bright, approaching neon, but this was a good thing.
In terms of the game itself, not a lot happened. In my dream I got a number of power up and did a lot of running from left to right, shooting fireballs, jumping on things, and doing occasional somersaults. The dream seemed to go on for a long time without anything much happening, and before I knew it my alarm was sounding for 7.30 a.m. and I had to get up and get ready for work.
I’ve no idea what a dream about being a computer game character means, but I’d put this up there, in terms of enjoyment, with the time I was a professional wrestler and the time I was Michael Jordan.
Could it be love?
I had another dream about that girl last night. I’m unsure whether these dreams have any real significance or if perhaps they are just the product of an overactive imagination. Dreams of romance and kissing and sex are natural, but do they ever hold something about your own heart that perhaps you aren’t aware of? Are my dreams trying to tell me something here?
Whenever I am in love, or I think I am in love, it’s a feeling that I just know, but perhaps the fact that I know means that there are deeper feelings within myself that I am not yet aware of. Love seems to be such a complicated series of emotions that the consciousness of any one person is not fully equipped to deal with.
So, to the girl in my dreams: Why are you there?
Addendum: My heart is most definitely with someone else right now. Though that person doesn’t believe this, these dreams are just something that happened that I can’t explain. I don’t feel like I am love with my friend, and I don’t feel like I ever could be, but having dreams of other people is natural and is not something I should choose to hide. There is only one girl at the moment whom I am certain that I do love and whom is consistently in my unrecorded dreams already, though for what that’s worth I am not sure anymore. It seems I will never be believed.
So long Batman; farewell
Sometimes I have dreams and am forever perplexed as to what they actually mean and where they come from. I had one such dream around four or five years ago. In this dream, I was the son of none other than Batman. Although I wasn’t sure how, I became aware that Batman had died and I began to cry. I have experienced many dreams in which I am crying before, and they are usually very similar.
When Batman died I cried and I cried and I couldn’t stop. The feeling of crying was a strange sensation, because it was so real. I had no control over it and it took over my entire existence. It was as if I had been enveloped in the feelings of sadness that trigger crying and that are its very essence in the first place. The tears were streaming down my cheeks and they would not stop coming.
I suspect that these dreams of continuous crying must be related. Sometimes you just need a good cry, so maybe if you don’t cry enough in the real world your mind and body can achieve the same vent expulsion of emotion in a dream. The fact that I was Batman’s son only adds to the strangeness.
The Nintendo that never was
The mind can be a cruel thing. The most disappointed I have ever been after waking up from dreaming was when I was around nine-years-old. It was Easter in the real world, and in my dream my mum had arranged an Easter egg hunt, only instead of Easter eggs she had hidden a Nintendo Entertainment System and a number of NES games around mine and my brother’s bedroom. I was overjoyed at the prospect of finding a NES, and sure enough, I opened my sock drawer to be greeted by a brand new copy of Super Mario Bros. It was a fantastic moment, and one that had been a long time coming because my friend had had a Sega Mastersystem for some time already. All I had in the real world were those little LCD games that have a lifespan of around two days before children get bored.
I eventually found my NES under my bed and was ecstatic that my desires had come true. I would be the envy of my friends, and I would have a kickass games console in my own bedroom, or in the living room at least (where there was a TV). It all came crashing down as I woke up. The disappointment was immense. I had held a NES in my hands; it had been mine; but alas, it was just a dream.
A child’s own fantasies can result in the most bitter of disappointments, but this time the disappointment was created entirely by the child himself.
A stolen kiss
The exact situation I don’t remember, but what I do remember was kissing my friend in a dream last night. She’s a good friend, although in my dream she looked somehow different. Her appearance was much “smoother”, for want of a better word. So what does this dream mean? Do I secretly love my friend? If there are feelings there they are not something I think has much significance. I’d never really given much thought to the idea of kissing her, but maybe there are emotions within my subconscious that are trying to get out. How confusing life is. In my dream, I was definitely aware that kissing my friend was somehow wrong.