Dream Diary - December 15th 2015

Dream Diary - December 15th 2015

A Chapter by dw817

Queen Of Scots / Hero Worship / Drug Of Choice / Pizza Emergency / Bonus Features / Clicking Nightmare / Compressed Brains / Meeting Roger And Mary Again / Not Ready For Death / Clothes Hamper World



  Dream Diary   


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© December 2015 Written by David Wicker
Please do not reprint without permission

This will be my new main Tuesday writing and I will add a new listing of 10 of my
dreams every week as long as I can remember or am reminded to do so.


* * *

These entries are Rated: TEEN

Here are 10 more unusual and bizarre dreams I have recorded. And like the others - they seem to go all over the place.


[1] Dreamed that I was in this curious village. They did not use normal coins but smaller ones, reminiscent of your standard nickels, dimes, and pennies, but at the size of your fingernail. I remember complaining but they said it was easier to make smaller coins and you could carry more in your pocket.

I know there was a sequence in the dream where I was using this machine, about the size of a storage box where I could insert these small coins and get out bigger normal-sized coins.

The machine was a little strange looking too. It had mechanical hands on it that took the coins from your own grip to work with.

I also remember everything was Scottish so I could only figure I was in Scotland. I remember walking with the Queen. We were passing by some thatched homes and a woman was in the middle of the street talking to her friend.

When we tried to pass they intercepted us, laughing as they did so. Apparently not wanting to let us go.

Finally the queen snapped, "Let us pass !"

The woman retorted with laughter, "What ! Who are you, the queen of Scots ?"

The queen with me leveled her eyes and tone, "Why yes, now that you mention it. I =AM= the queen of Scots ! And perhaps a day or two in my dungeon might loosen your levity."

With these words the two women, frightened, vacated the street at once.

In the dream I know we were both trying to find some butter, for some type of recipe the queen had in mind.

We came by this one thatched house and entered. A woman at once thrust a metal tin at the queen. "Your butter, your majesty." she said with her eyes pointed downward.

The queen smiled at such servitude and spoke, "It must be perfect !"

The woman curtseyed, "Yes Ma'am."

The scene changed and I was in a foul mood. I could not find my belt. I was going around the village thinking someone had taken it from me. I got immediate respect when I mentioned I was a servant of the queen.

Before I woke up I realized I was wearing the belt already, but in the dream my beard was so long that overlapped my belly it which was why I couldn't see it.


[2] I was participating in a strange game show. In it, you could get to talk about an actor you really liked, and if you seemed enamored enough, that very actor would appear and have a conversation with you, giving you points in the game for how much you really knew them.

I remember I started talking about William Shatner, how much I admired him in Star Trek, how much I enjoyed the fact he would rough and tumble with the bad guys while Patrick Stewart did not.

William was about to comment on this when I suddenly woke up.


[3] Really strange. I was wrapped in silk material over and over until I was in a tight form-fitting cocoon. Then I was injected in the arm with something and I started to hallucinate that I was somewhere else.

I realized the silk kept me safe. I kept jerking my arms around and the silk was so tight it kept my arms in place. In the hallucination, I was chasing down a girl who knew the location to this amazing toy shop I wanted to go to - and only she knew it.

Suddenly she fell over a precipice in the road and I was down trying to help her. then the drug wore off and I heard a deep voice ask me if I liked the experience.

I could only speak out loud, "I was there, I was really there."

Then I woke up.


[4] Very bad nightmare. Rose and me were in a room and a feral cat showed up. At first she seemed pleasant enough but then suddenly lunged at Rose and chewed a hole in her neck running inside.

Someone was with me and blanched saying, "Call 911 !" then thrust a dial telephone at me.

I hadn't used a dial telephone in years so I fumbled turning the dial. Suddenly a voice answered. Before they could speak I yelled into the receiver, "I need help !"

The voice sounded unconcerned on the other sei, "Yeah, that so ? What's the emergency ?"

I explained as well as I could what was happening.

The voice then sighed and said, "So, let's see now, you want a pizza with mushrooms, olives, green peppers, extra pepperoni, and anchovies ?"

I stared at the receiver. Just what number did I dial ?

"That'll be $2.99 for 2-large pizzas, we'll have it there in 10-minutes."

For a moment I forgot the danger and spoke, "That's a very good deal !"

The voice laughed on the other end, "Yeah, we're having a sale for today only and for this hour only. I doubt we'll ever have a deal this good again anytime soon."

Then I shook my head, "No, I need - look, maybe later."

"You get that special now or it's gone, sir." he said flatly.

I hung up the phone and this time properly dialed 911. Then I woke up.


[5] Dreamed I had ordered a book about typefaces and fonts from EBay. It arrived but in the back of it were all kinds of colored buttons. I pressed them and lights started to show on the front of the book and tinny music besides.

Chris was there with me and wanted to see the book so I handed it to him. He tried some buttons but at once the book grew silent and dim with no lights lit.

"How does it work ?" he said handing it back to me.

"I just do this." I told him and pressed some random buttons. Once again the book lit up like a Christmas tree and tinny music played.

It was clear the book was only going to work for me and not him. I hit another button and a smell of clean laundry emitted from a hole near the bottom.

"I hate lavender !" Chris said wrinkling his nose.

"It's really quite good." I told him.

"Smells like toilet cleaner." Chris said and laughed.

I had to admit, it was that strong kind of cleanser similar to what he described. I hit another button and a strong cinnamon smell came out.

"What else does it do ?" Chris asked, curious now.

Then the scene changed and we were in a library with the same book. A woman walked over and said we need to keep it down as we were making too much noise.

I held the book up and all kinds of scary pop-ups appeared at the edge frightening off the librarian. I laughed and then woke up.


Scary dream. I had two old women I was living with. I was just a kid, about 9-10 years old. I was sitting in a long wooden chair reading a kid's book when the muscles in my arms started seizing up.

I found I couldn't move and shrieked for help. The women, both very physically ugly, came to try and help me, slapping me on the back of my head and face telling me to stop being an idiot and move already.

Then the scene changed, I still couldn't move but this time the old women had with them a book of voodoo spells. Something was making a clicking noise and my neck was moving up and down to the rhythm.

Then a fork appeared in my hand and when one of the women came close to sprinkling powder on my head, I stabbed her in the eye. She shrieked in pain falling back.

The scene changes and I am in a hospital. A pretty nurse enters and asks if I'm still hearing the clicking. I tell her, yes, I am, and THERE is where it's coming from.

She whirls around to look to see this small doll getting bigger and bigger in size with every audible click, and as the doll gets bigger, it gets older and uglier until it is a real nightmare.

The nurse shrieks when suddenly the doll reaches out to her and bites her head off.

The doll then faces me and with silvery sharp teeth speaks in a raspy and scary tone, "Good night."

I wake up in fear.


[7] A dream about programming I guess. Everyone and everyone's grandma living in this city is interested in compression. Not just data but anything really. Compressing cheese, meat, stories, words, even ideas.

It is considered a sign of well-breeding and excellence to be able to compress anything.

There was a festival going on where the theme was, "Smaller is better."

It was pretty crazy though because everyone was issued a large hammer and they went out whacking everything in sight, pumpkins, flowers, even boxes of chocolates. They were 'compressing' them, they said.

One person visited me at my home. He pointed a finger at me and everything turned black. He later told me that my vision was compressed and that I would only see that which is important.

I shook my head and said, "But I can't see anything at all ?"

"Then you are completely not important. You are unimportant." and with that he left.

I looked in the mirror and my skin was dark too. Not like African-American, like shadow, like the very life of me had been sucked out and compressed, just like he said.

The scene changed and I was bicycling in a park. There was a gate I needed to get by but a person stood there holding a bunch of ballloons.

He thrust the strings toward me and said, "You can't have a balloon unless you have some money."

I was broke so I said, "I don't like balloons."

He nodded and swept an arm out bidding me to pass the gate.

The scene changed and I was in the back of some military truck. Everything smelled of gasoline and I kept bouncing around getting bruised and bangled from the rough road.

Then I woke up.


[8] Dreamed that me and Dad were at New Orleans.

Roger and Mary were there whom I hadn't seen for many years now. There was a doctor there too, talking to me about Dad and the onset of Parkinson's my Dad had.

The doctor leaned back in his chair and said, "Your Father is an artist, like Rembrandt. Don't tell him I said that."

I shook my head in confusion.

The doctor continued, "Your Father is a perfectionist. That's why he is so hard on you."

I was then at a park with Roger and Mary, we were having a picnic. I forgot to bring sodas and saw there was a little concession stand by the entrance to the park. I reached in my pocket but found I had also forgotten my wallet.

Then Dad came by. He was carrying two boxes of pizzas under one arm and a bottle of wine under the other.

"I don't drink wine." I told him.

"Nonsense, it's for everyone."

Roger and Mary filled their glasses and commented on how well it tasted.

I tried some of it and found a scorpion in the bottom of my glass. I tossed the glass aside where it broke and Dad only laughed.

Then Dad seemed to be serious with me for a moment. "I understand you are having trouble in your life, and the cause is simply not enough television."

My eyes goggled. This was the exact opposite of what Dad told me years ago. "Excuse me ?"I asked.

Dad nodded, "You need to fill up on all the favorites, I Love Lucy, Addam's Family, Gilligan's Island, and other intelligent programs like this."

I smirked. There was precious little I would learn of intelligence from that line of TV series.

The scene changed and I was in some type of city block war. While there were soldiers who presumably were Americans, fighting for our cause, they kept throwing these canisters around that affected not only the enemy but the innocent civilians in and out of their homes.

One little girl grabbed the canister and took a new diaper bag from cellphone and wrapped it around the canister so it couldn't spray.

I then grabbed a plastic bag and tried to do the same, but the canister went off in my grip and sprayed me with some type of poison.

For a moment I was choking on my breath and then I couldn't breathe !

Then the scene changed and it was like the 'author' of my last dream thought it wasn't good I suffocated, so the canisters changed to a tranquilizer and knocked me out where I stood.

Some people came by and tied me up in linen sheets. Then I was dragged somewhere, all my clothes removed, and I was covered with this red gelatin, something to do with electricity.

There was a violent shock to my system and then I was in a wooden room and had to pee. There was banging on the door too, people wanted in, and I was still naked. The lock was a simple tumbler but I left it closed.

The door fell down then and a big and burly gentleman saw me, smiled, gave me a big hug and spoke into my face, "I am supposed to stay with you."

"Without clothes ?" I asked him, a little ashamed that I wasn't wearing any.

With that he just laughed and hugged me tighter.

Then he took a towel and started wiping me all over. At first I didn't know why, but the red gelatin started pouring out of the pores of my skin.

He finished, clapped me on my back and said, "Come on, you're wanted."

"Where ?" I asked, but then I woke up.


[9] After that dream, I dreamed of Roger and Mary again. We were back in church and he was crying.

I politely tapped him on the shoulder and gave a look of - what's the problem ?

He pointed forward and they were singing Christmas songs. I realized then that they had both died and they didn't want to leave the church just yet.

I woke up in tears myself and heard music 3am in the morning, "Star of wonder, star of bright ..." I finally realized it was coming from me and I was hallucinating.


[10] Dreamed I was flying in a plane to a foreign country. There was a sequence where I was trying to get back in the states with a return flight, but they told me the receipt I received in arriving was not a return ticket.

So I asked them, what is a return ticket ?

The woman handling the tickets sniffed disdainfully, "It is a ticket to return."

Oh, that was a lot of help, I scoured to myself. She added snippily, "You have to buy one."

I reached in my pockets and like so many dreams, I was flat busted.

"I don't have any money." I told her.

"Not a problem," she spoke agreeably, "You can work it off."

So I was thrust into this large clothes hamper deeper and deeper until it was a labyrinth maze of unwashed clothes and underwear. The very walls themselves were tightly packed and unwashed underwear.

Then I entered in this room. It smelled a little funny in there. A light appeared and an old man met me.

"I've been in here a long time." he told me. "It's good to have a friend again." and he came over to shake my hand.

But I stepped back, "No, I need to get out of here. Don't you mind - living in someone's underwear ?" These where the curious words that came out of my mouth.

He laughed. "Long as it's not my own underwear."

That was clearly a bit of TMI. I turned around and tried to go back in the maze but it had sealed over with a large pack of multi-colored panties, all woven around each other to create an impenetrable wall.

"Looks like you're staying after all." he said.

Then I heard a squeaking and a "floor" board moved. All these white mice came out and were wearing rings, watches, and some dragged wallets.

"Let's see what my beauties brought me." the old man said and went to them.

I screwed my face up in confusion, somehow passed out, and woke up back in bed.

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© 2015 dw817

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