To sleep, perchance to dream.
I think putting a Shakespeare quote for a title is always good whenever possible.
Last night I had some very strange dreams. Three in total. For once I actually remember them and I feel obliged to tell you dear readers about them. The first two are nothing too weird but the last one was a bit epic, in my opinion.
So, dream #1. I got my Leaving Cert results. I did very well, far better than I expected. I got an A3 in English. For anyone who’s unfamiliar with the Leaving Cert grading system, there is no A3 grade. So then I was talking to my English teacher about my results, she was delighted at how well I did. I then told her I was disappointed at only getting an A3. She laughed. I also did quite well in Religion, which I didn’t even do for my Leaving Cert. So that was fun.
Dream #2. The back story to this dream is that in my back garden these (presumably stray) cats come around every day and lounge around on the roof of my shed, and sometimes skulk around the garden. I fucking love them, mainly because of how much I love lolcats, but also because they always look stoned or something. These ones lay on my shed, catching some rays, smoking a joint or two, and when they see me in the garden they just glance at me and look away again, as if to say “Fuck right off mayne, this here’s mah turf”.
But in this dream there was stray dog wandering around my garden. A puppy, actually. An adorable little thing he was. But while he looked no more than a few weeks old, he was trained perfectly. Rolling over, jumping up when asked, barking on call, even giving us the paw. So obviously I’m dying to keep him, but the rest of the family are wary. Then we hear a scratching at the back door. We open it and there’s a larger version of the puppy we found. The puppy walks out to his mother/father and out they go. That bastard puppy broke my subconscious heart.
Dream #3. This one is good. First thing I remember is being in a line of people, and seeing a few faces I recognised, but most were strangers to me. Then, none other than Adolf fucking Hitler steps up and is picking people out and giving them instructions. He picks me out, examines me, determines my fine physical condition is up to scratch and sends me off to a group of people. There I’m asked about my shoes. I look down and see the most ridiculous shoes on me. They were pure white, leather, and with pointed toes.
So I start chatting with some of the lads, and then we get told to shut up by an officer, who is infact a former history teacher of mine, female, who left my school two years ago, and I haven’t seen her since. In real life, she was very opinionated on things like human rights, and always doing charity work and all that. She tells us we have to get onto a bus. I ask how long the journey will be, as I desperately need to take a whizz. She says “Ah not long at all. No more than seven hours”. We laugh and say seven hours is a long time, so I go to take a whizz in some nearby bushes, being the gentleman that I am. During urination, the ground starts moving and I accidently piss on some poor lad standing near me. He didn’t notice though 
So we get to our destination, which happens to be in my mate’s front garden, about seven houses down from my own house. So Adolf is giving us some instructions, and I realise, “Fucking hell, I’m not a Nazi, and I know how this whole thing ends up. Screw this”. I hop over the wall and start taking the piss out of Hitler and his views, making loads of juvenile jokes, and he’s getting infuriated, and tells me to go back (where I’ll be shot). My mate decides to give me some way to defend myself, and throws me a weapon. You’d think since we were in the army at this stage I’d have been thrown a gun. Nope. A knife? No chance. A sword?! Not today sweetheart.
He threw me a scissors. A battered old scissors. I somehow caught the weapon and started going back, until I saw my friend being berated by Hitler, and told to leave also. He starts taking the piss too, and gets chased by old Adolf. I realise he’s in trouble, but luckily there was another weapon on the ground beside me to throw to him. Another scissors. So now the two of us are armed with scissors, and running away from Adolf Hitler. He chases us around the corner, and we manage to lose him, and begin making plans to somehow escape the country. Then a bomb siren goes off. A fucking bomb siren. We look at each other in a “What are the odds?” way and being running.
And then I woke up. An interesting dream to say the least. The irony of that history teacher being a Nazi officer was brilliant. I also think this dream may have something to do with me having watched the film American History X the other day, but still, it’s a pretty fucking weird dream.
In one night I experienced great academic success, rejection from a newly found canine friend, and rebellion from the Nazi party. Not bad for a couple of hours.
Popularity: 11% [?]
If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!
July 17th, 2008 at 12:09 am
eeehhh man, that was one messed up dream. If you can remember that one, one can only wonder what the others are like. Keep up the good work son. Keep the posts coming man!
July 17th, 2008 at 12:12 am
Rory : *tips hat* Will do sir.
July 17th, 2008 at 7:30 pm
Very good post, very odd to say the least, Glad you remembered it, it made me laugh
July 18th, 2008 at 2:34 pm
Ciara : Thanks
Odd, you say? Surely not. Doesn’t everyone dream about this sort of stuff..?