Jerry

It's interesting about the sheik being "me". You are right and it is of course me, but it doesn't fit my self image all that well. I was raised in an age when when to regard yourself as special or different in any way was completely unacceptable. When I was a teenager I remember mentioning to a friend of my father's that I was interested in music as a career he said "You know that you will be a traitor to your class (as in: English upper-middle class!) if you do that." Those days are I hope, gone.

I am sick. A left-sided sickness. Sore throat (left tonsil), left ear, left sinuses! I am not feeling very well at all - ugh! In a way that I don't understand my sickness feels "dangerous" in a similar way to my dreams.

Last night I had very dangerous dreams. It was very long, complex and recursive (dream within a dream within a dream ...) and all notion of linear time had just vanished. I have forgotten much of it. There were two instances of me in this dream, one was a cool observer watching the dream like a movie, and the other actually taking part in the dream. Although I knew I was in very dangerous waters (literally and metaphorically) I wasn't frightened at any time. These should be nightmares, but they aren't!

I'll tell four extracts that I remember well.

1. I am in blue-green sea water and I am swimming in a huge tidal surge or wave. The water is very cold and very turbulent and I know I am in serious trouble. There is another man here, I can't see him, he is very calm and wise and reassuring. "We need to go this way. The shore is this way. We can do it." I know we will get out, but I also know I have trespassed into a place I should not be, I have come too far and that it is very very dangerous here.

2. I am on the high street of my old home town and I know the huge wave is coming here. The people on the street seem numb, uncaring, just standing and staring. I am going quietly from one to another giving instructions, getting them to move up the hill to safety, helping where I can. I find an abandoned hearse and I start loading it up with people and driving them up the hill to safety and then going back for more.

3. I am high up in a high-rise building. The area is completely wrecked, very unsafe and is filled with hundreds of refugees. I am trying to explain to them about two books. One is a red book ('The Passion of the Western Mind,' I think!) that changed my life and the other is a white book. "Listen to me, there are not two white books" I am shouting. "One was published in America under the title "Cash Out" and the other in Europe as "CERNA," but they are the same book." The white book contains all the dreams I have been having. I can open the pages and "see" them and I know that I can even walk into them, if I wish. People start asking crazy nonsensical questions which I know are impossible to answer.

4. I am walking, many floors up, through a large old abandoned building. At each step I take cracks appear in the white floors and walls and ceilings. I am destroying the building with my steps. This is essential but very very dangerous work.

All these dreams were connected somehow into one long saga, but I can't remember how!

Age & Gender & Location {Required}: 70 - Aotearoa/New Zealand

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