Dec
26
An Epic Dream to End All Epic Dreams
Filed Under General | 3 Comments
Woke up at 5 in the morning and decided to continue my reading of Russell T. Davies’ “A Writer’s Tale”. I’m up to the chapter where he writes the finale to Doctor Who’s 4th Series and how he had to cut the origin of Davros, the creator of the Daleks. I found myself falling asleep again and right into a dream.
The dreams I get after waking up early in the morning and falling asleep again are usually quite memorable. I’ve had plenty of epic dreams before. Catastrophes, earthquakes, tornadoes, epic space battles. But the dream I had today would flatten them all.
It began quite boringly at a mall. There was an arts and crafts trade convention at a large function area where… well, I’ll just abbreviate this part because it’s rather dull. Needless to say, the floor of the mall kept flooding and I went to investigate. I fell into a deep pit and found myself lost. It took overnight for me to get out and find myself in a familiar place, which turned out to be Canossa College here in San Pablo. Back home, they raised the alarm because I was gone for so long. They were happy to see me back alive and in one piece.
I then went away on a trip to go somewhere. I don’t remember now where, but I was far from home and I was far from where I’m supposed to go. I was in a large field with ankle high grass. It was a cloudy day. All of a sudden the sunlight was reflecting off a distant mountain. The light reflecting from it was blinding. I wondered what kind of material was on the mountain for it to reflect the sunlight so brightly. And then I realized it was cloudy and there was no sunlight to reflect. It was a strange sight. The side of a distant mountainside lit up like a halogen lamp turning on right in front of my eyes.
I scanned the horizon and it suddenly got dark. My traveling companion wondered about it as well. And just then sunlight hit the distant clouds behind the mountain, making it look like a huge explosion cloud. But it was expanding, and expanding fast. It was no cloud, and there was no sunlight. It had to be an explosion. The explosion cloud grew immense and formed a mushroom. I stood there rooted to the spot. Then another explosion cloud beside it sprang up, forming another mushroom, lighting up the sky. All across the horizon massive mushroom clouds of intense light shot up hundreds of miles into the atmosphere. I started to walk off the path, dazed, right across the field to a kind shed a hundred meters into the grass. There were people there, milling about.
We all looked towards the distant horizon, wondering what had happened. We all knew they were nuclear explosions, but nobody wanted to utter the “n” word. Because if we did, we knew it was over for us all. That many bombs, nobody could survive. We knew we wouldn’t survive long in that grassy field. Me and my traveling companion decided to leave the shed and go over a nearby hill to see what was happening beyond. It was a long silent walk. Once we got over the hill a few hours later, we could see the trees in the far distance sway violently and get uprooted, like in a tornado. The ground suddenly heaved up and the wind picked up. It was an explosion starting, right there in front of us, not 5 kilometers away. This near there was no way we could survive, even if we run. My traveling companion and I held hands and waited to die. Things were falling all around us and any minute something would hit us. Then all went black.
I woke up, back in the shed, alive again for some reason. It was like I was given another chance to live, but it simply allowed me to see the devastation from another location. I saw the explosion that killed me over the hill and it was far enough from the shed that it didn’t affect us directly. Some 5 kilometers on the other side, there was a building that suddenly lit up. Was it hit? Was it going to explode? We waited, and then we saw something spectacular. Fireworks. The building was going up in fireworks. The people inside were lighting them up, in defiance of whoever it was bombing us. An elderly man, apparently a scientist who was with us in the shed suddenly said: “The fools! They’re just painting a target on themselves!” Sure enough we saw a light through the clouds move swiftly from the horizon, up into the sky and then fall down, hitting the building on the side. It was nuclear. We knew we were dead. The building was pulverized and the shockwave lifted cubic kilometers of earth up into the sky and right into us. Then all went black.
I was alive again, in a city center. People were panicking. There were people with me. Dying from another location? What is it this time, explosion right above me? I looked up and sure enough, a nuclear bomb exploded in the sky right above me. I only had to wait a few seconds and everything was black again.
I woke up in a hospital. Nothing out of the ordinary seemed to be happening. Nobody was panicking and as far as I could tell. No explosions at all, anywhere in the world. Was it a dream? The man standing next to my bed got curious. Did I dream of nuclear war? I said yes. All of a sudden a dream expert was standing in front of my bed in white frocks. He looked like Peter Ustinov when he was young. He told me that they were studying the dreams of people who were dreaming of nuclear war because they had a theory that taken collectively, all the dreams actually gave clues as to when real nuclear war would happen, and how it will happen. Peter Ustinov asked me to relate the dream to him in detail, right from the beginning.
So that’s what I did. I began with the mall and went through my dream again careful not to miss any detail.
And before I finished telling my story, dogs were barking and I looked at the time and saw it was 8 in the morning. I took a piss, opened the computer and wrote this blog entry.


























Gerry:
That dream of yours is fantastic. It’s like a movie with expensive sets and special effects :). What’s more, the need to have several stunt men to do some of the big scenes.
No, never in my life have I dreamed such a sci-fi genre of a dream. Do you remember if your dream was in color or black and white?
I do dream in black and white; and sometimes in full color.
I want to share with you one dream I have been having since I was a child. I still dream of it even up to now.
It’s always in black and white.
I find myself walking, alone, in an old, desolate street. There isn’t even a dog. The street is not asphalt or cement, just a rural farm road, sort of a wide trail, the length that would only fit a car. This road is flanked by old buildings, now all in ruins, as if they’ve been bombed, or simply just concrete buildings that were now ruined by years. There is one particular building with an open door. Above the entrance was a sign that has been destroyed so I would not be able to figure out what it says. There are three steps on the entrance. I would go up and enter the building. It is full of women in white, like nurses, gathering there, having conversations, not even realizing I was there. I would walk towards a huge window at the end of the room. Once I get there, I would look out. There is a body of water where a huge ship is marooned. Then I would find myself in a canoe, paddling non-stop as if trying to get quickly to wherever I am supposed to go.
Then I would wake up.
Can you imagine, I dream this regularly for more than 40 years! Unfortunately, it doesn’t tell me anything. It seems to deprive me of a past so distant – I could no longer remember any part of it.
But the most that I don’t like is dreaming about people I know, because sometimes the dream itself is a message.
When my mom was in the hospital for her arthritis, another patient name MAHAL (an East Indian woman) was also a patient of this hospital. During their therapy in the pool, she and my mom became friends. Soon, every time I would visit my mom, I would also bring flowers for Mahal and I would chat with her in her room.
When my mom checked out of the hospital, I had a dream about Mahal after a month.
I was in a North American downtown street, walking on the sidewalk, when suddenly, a red car stopped, waiting for the red light to turn green. For some reason, I turned towards the car and lo and behold, the passenger was Mahal. She was smiling at me, waving her hand, as if bidding me goodbye.
“The night before Christmas,” was the message I got, “she will leave this world.”
Then I woke up. I was upset. The same dream I had when I was 12, when the message in my head said: “Grandpa is leaving you on the 3rd week of July.”
My Grandfather indeed, had passed on on the 3rd week of July.
The same thing happened to a classmate of mine when I dreamed about him talking to my father and mother. In 2008, he had passed on.
And now, back to Mahal. It was late November when I dreamed about her. I went to the hospital to visit her, she was no longer there, apparently she was released a week before. I left the hospital, hoping that my dream was not the same as when I was 12.
On the morning of December 27, 2003, while having coffee, I was reading the newspaper. When I turned the page to the obituary, there was Mahal’s photo. She indeed passed away on the eve of December 24, 2003.
So far, I have dreamed about 12 people I have known who have passed on. This is the reason why I dislike dreaming people I know because sometimes the message can be very sad.
When I tell this to people, they think I’m being funny or even impish just to pull their chain. No. I’m quite serious about this. I’m telling the truth. Whoever reads this, please don’t mock me. And I don’t wish to see you in my dream.
Happy New Year in advance, guys! Stay away from powerful firecrackers and stray bullets. And please, don’t let me dream of you, for I dislike to dream about me as well. The number 78 is enough for me to know, a message I received when I was 19. I don’t want any details of it.
Hello JM! I distinctly remember color, but kind of washed out, almost monotone. I don’t remembering having any dream that seemed to me particularly bursting with color.
I think it’s common to dream about people who have passed on. I guess it means we miss them and deep inside we want to see them again. For a long time I wanted to dream about Arlan because I haven’t, and he hasn’t really made his presence felt after he died. They say they can have their presence felt through dreams. I’m not really sure if that’s even possible, but I’m open to the idea.
What an odd coincidence. Adam David, of Adam David fame posted on Facebook about a lucid dream he just had as well. I was having lucid dreams before holidays started, but not now. The timing of both of you having it is just odd…