The last few days I’ve been having the craziest dreams the last few nights. The crazy dreams are not really a new thing. Lately I’ve been waking at odd hours so I am just remembering them more. This morning I had one about being married to the man of my dreams (cause it was a dream ha ha ha). He was tall, dark, and hansom doctor. Don’t remember much of this one but it was a happy dream. The second was a high school setting and there was a bizarre mystery mixed with social story. As it was happening I kept thinking this would make a good story line. The sadly plot was gone by the time I was coherent enough to right it down. And third dream took place underwater and I was getting a tattoo.
This past Tuesday night I had such a vivid dream. I woke at about 4am and wrote it down while the details were fading from memory. I found it pretty interesting, but then it did star me.
The following is the best account of my odd adventure dream. It’s long so you can just skip it if you want:
It began with the clicking of a high speed typing. I was typing away on laptop working on plans for a mission trip in a tiny room with only a bed and a night table. There were a few sketches taped to the faded and peeling wallpaper. I was compiling and working with two main contact lists. There were 18 on one and 36. At the time the numbers seemed really important to remember. I was sending out emails and prayer request lists including information about the up coming trip. There was a group of people living in the two-bedroom house who were connected to the ministry but at the time I was alone the room.
As the dream continued I figured out that the country we were heading to was a restricted area and some form of that country’s secret police was hunting our group. I was the link or connection between the outside world and the underground movements within the country. Part of what I was working on was sending and reserving coded information to and from the underground. Side note: At this point I had hair just past shoulder length and it was a plain medium brunette.
A elderly white haired "trusted" woman came in to bring me tea and ask how it was going. There was something important on my screen and she just leaned over and to a glance and it. I didn’t really notice. Shortly after that the house got a phone call saying that our location had been compromised and that some of our business contacts were being rounded up for questioning. It was determined that I had to flee because I was a link and knew too much. Preparation began to abandon the house. We dyed my hair in this really dirty bathroom that had a light hanging from a long cord that swung back and forth. The white haired lady was trying to help but her shaking hands were slowing down the whole process. The colour was a plum and someone cut my hair. As this was happening I realized the only person who could have leaked the information was the kind, little, white haired lady. We had been betrayed.
A message was sent warning a trusted friend. At the same time I was making two fake contact lists for the authorities to find. The contact replied telling me to bring the information to a café with a wireless access. Then we wiped the memory. I grabbed a few things, my sketchbook, clothes, and someone else’s laptop. The white haired lady was kept preoccupied by a housemate. She had been trying to slow us down so none of us escaped before the authorities arrived. Others slipped me out of the house. As I left I knew they were all in danger and risking everything to save the information. The guy with me re-dyed since the white hair lady knew colour. It might have been an orange. We looked back and the house was on fire. I cried as we drove all night.
We parted ways because it was easier to unnoticed. I assume we ditched the car because it doesn’t come into the dream again. Like a movie, the next scene jumped to me sitting outside a café in what looks like a quaint European town. I did some things on the computer, send some emails, ate, had a cup of tea or two, all to pass the time while waiting. Once I made contact I crash at some college dorm in the city. My roommate was a punk girl with crazy hair, she dyed mine platinum blond, tattooed my leg, and pierced the cartilage of my right ear.
The next part there was a lot of moving and jumping from different landscapes and maybe even countries. The people I was with changed and the whole thing was burred and confusing. (It is a dream after all). Some times we were travelling by boat others by plane. Only thing clear was that I was on the run and trying sneak into the mystery country, which turned out to be an island. The maps of mystery country, that has no name, looked surprisingly similar to Madagascar but since this is a dream it wasn’t. At last I make it to country. Enroll at a famous art school. Email my family to let them know that I am all right. Dye my hair again. It became blue with two-inch spikes. I fit in well with all the "freaks" at art school.
Then one night I am crossing this large hall. Behind me where four stairs going up to a second level of the hall which had a large statue similar to Michelangelo’s David near the wall. The statue divided the space into two hallways. The floors were checkerboard tiling that clicked and echoed with each step. I was heading to a stairway that would take me to a foyer and the front doors. As I came to the place where I could see into the bottom area there was a man in a black trench coat waiting. Panic set in, he hadn’t noticed me yet. I had quietly walked back the way I came walked up the opposite flight of stairs and a guy (a real someone I know) was there. He motioned for me to be quiet and lead me down the side hallway into a passage and out the back door into an alleyway. We then cross some large cobblestone courtyard when we are spotted (just like the movies). He grabbed my arm and there was much running. Running, running, running. When we finally stop he asked if I was okay. I was a little shaken up. I give him the driver with tons of critical information and explain that the white haired lady was a mole. Then there was a loud noise and I woke up.
The night before I had seen Children of Men which definitely influenced the dream. There were also traces of both of the Bourne movies, Alias, and my own imagined images from reading John Grisham’s "The Broker". And that was my dream.