Last night I had a very interesting dream. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m going to have to share it. I recognise that not everyone likes hearing about other people’s dreams (I personally find dreams fascinating) so if this isn’t your sort of thing, I’d recommend you spend this evening browsing Shortpacked’s archives. Here’s the first one. Enjoy!
So here we are: I’m in a waiting room with red walls. It sort-of resembles the Green Room from Friday Night with Jonathan Ross. There are other people in the room, mostly celebrities, however I don’t recognise anyone except for Levar Burton and Toni Carr, a girl who used to go to Lealands High School who made a habit of picking on me. She was with two other women who were presumably part of some part of a band.
The Green Room is actually a waiting room, as we had just been on stage as part of an auction. People had the opportunity to place bids on us, individually, for whatever reason. I remember that the customers were making payments in red LEGO blocks. Bizarre.
The dream flashes forward to later, and Levar Burton and I are cleaning junk out of an old, dirty swimming pool. There’s very little water in it, maybe an inch at the bottom, but it is, as I said, filled with junk. I mostly find things which I recognise - an Amiga CD³², some toys from my youth, my old chunky Game Boy, some videos (including “Robot“), a box of photos ranging from my youth right up to last week.
“Y’know what?” I say to Levar Burton. “I think this pile of junk symbolises my brain.”
“Really?” he says.
“Yes.”
“Well, what do I symbolise, then?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I reply. “I do like Star Trek: The Next Generation.”
“I was in Roots as well.”
“Yes, but I’ve never seen that.”
“What do you want me to do with this pink thing?”
He’s holding an old cuddly toy of mine, called Silly Billy. It’s pink and yellow, with white fluffy hair and a yellow-and-pink striped tail with a fluffy tip. I look at it for a moment, and then…
I woke up.
I’ve had a lot of lucid dreams again lately. I know when I’m dreaming, and even more annoyingly I analyse my own dreams as I’m dreaming them. This is the first time, though, that someone from one of my dreams has asked me what they represent. Ideally, I’d prefer they told me themselves.
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