The Narrator's Notes

Introduction

Well suppose I'd better type up a dream journal, it would be nice to keep a public record. Hopefully I'll discipline myself to right in it every day, but sometimes I just feel so shattered when I wake up, I can't bring myself to write anything!

Normally my dreams seem to be strangely logical, in the sense that although they are highly implausible, they do make sense. I never see people with extra limbs or animals which can talk or bizarre shaped buildings, but I might be driving my Teacher to a hospital or running away from my Grandma who's catching up on me by the second. Generally speaking, my dreams also seem to be quite well structured and often flow with an apparent storyline, rather than drifting from one thought to another. What does this say about my personality and the way that I think? Obviously it means I'm a freak. :P

Key
Dreams
Lucidity

Hey that's a good start. Can't wait to see when you're dreams come along. ;)

07/04/08 - The bookshop Detective

I was in a book shop as a private investigator, talking to the two owners. One of them was Syed from the Apprentice and the other was Theo Paphitis from Dragons Den, but I still didn't manage to twig that I was dreaming! Anyway, I was investigating the theft of various items and I'd narrowed the whereabouts of the goods down to this building. Not being a particularly impressive detective, I was just walking around kicking down shelves and rummaging through cases looking for the goods, whilst the two shop owners were walking around with me muttering taunting phrases such as "By the time you find what you're looking for, it will be too late!" which was beginning to frighten me. I can't quite put my tongue on it, but something about the way they were talking and smiling at me created a tense and almost supernatural atmosphere and I remember thinking that I really wouldn't find the stolen property.

However, after a while searching I checked underneath the carpet, ripping it off the ground to reveal a secret compartment beneath "fake floorboards" (This is what I wrote in my notes, but thinking about it; how can floorboards be fake?) and as expected, the stash was underneath! Suddenly, a large crew of gangsters broke into the shop and started claiming what was their's: Mostly money, books and a saxophone. There was also some beer hidden under the floor boards which the gangsters so kindly rewarded me with, along with a small portion of their retrieved money. My work done, they left the shop, the owners just seemed to disappear from the dream entirely and were never seen again and I went on my way out of the shop.

Thinking of what to do with the money, I decided to give it to someone who wanted to buy a new instrument, but as an after thought, I set a little money aside for that person's friend who was with him and told him to "buy a good book" and tossed him the wad of cash. Then (out of nowhere) Alex B. was in my dream, a boy 4 years younger than me in my scout group who I've always liked asked me why I gave the money away. I explained to him, that "The person was poor and could only afford books." which looking back on it sounds a little derogatory; I intended to sound wise and knowledgable and it came across this way in the dream thankfully. I then went on to say "If he'd of wanted video games then it would have cost a lot more." to which Alex protested that video games were only £15. In reality, they are at least twice that much, often more, but once again it was a dream sign I failed to spot. I replied saying "That was 3 times more than a book would ever cost" feeling so philisophical and intelligent at this point that I could have donned a monks robe and meditated for the rest of the dream.

Well, we walked into a building and the room we ended up in looked a little bit like a classroom. Alex wanted to sit next to me when we sat down, and someone came over and asked Alex how he was coping with "the family disaster" and he just smiled weakly and nodded. Two other scouts were sitting near us, and my dad was sitting a table or two away in listening distance. We didn't really want to pay attention to whatever was going on but whenever they talked to me I felt uncomfortable replying because I knew my Dad would spot me and complain.

It ended soon after with someone from my class walking in late and me saying aloud "My hero!" (random O_o) to which sprung a lot of laughter.