13,5 hours of sleep

In my dream I’m telling someone about the dream I just had: from a bird’s eye perspective I see a row of houses on an elongated island in a river. I know I’m in Vienna, Austria. I’m smoothly flying or rather gliding by the houses and over the water. I can see that one of the houses is in fact a stage-like building on the water with a huge advertisement for a German electronics supplier. I continue my air glide towards the mountains in front of me, everything looks extremely 3D and feels intense. I suddenly am in a room where everything, floor, ceiling and walls, are made from dark mirroring material. In the middle of the room stands an opulently decorated Christmas tree.

As I’m telling the person all about the dream (the 3D effect and details) and come to the point, “…and in the middle of the room…,” he/she ends the sentence “…stood a Christmas tree.” I’m highly excited that the person has had the same dream, but then someone tells me that they put psychedelic mushrooms in the cookies I had eaten before. I’m extremely disappointing and angry that the wonderful feeling of gliding and the 3D effect didn’t come from deep inside me, and that I didn’t have the precious experience of a shared dream, but that someone just drugged me and injected the pictures. ☆

I’m now in a squatted house in Berlin with a friend. There’s some other people and we are waiting for a concert. There’s several rooms and empty door frames, lots of couches everywhere. We wander around and look for a good place to stand and see the band. But we can’t find the stage. I feel like I’m in a labyrinth. ☆

There’s a lush landscape with a weirdly shaped long basin which doesn’t look natural. Steps go down to where at first there is impressively green grass I can see from above. I’m now in the basin and it’s flooded with grayish water. Pieces of wood and furniture and boats float in the water. ☆

I’m now in a medical practice (perhaps I entered via footbridge from the flooded basin) and lying on a cot. I’m not wearing pants so I guess I’m waiting for a gynecological examination. I don’t like the male doctor from the beginning. As I’m lying there half-naked I can see that he didn’t close the door and people who walk by could see me. I’m angry because my privacy is invaded and the doctor doesn’t care. I want to complain about his behavior and try to find someone in charge. ☆

There’s broken bits of glass everywhere and a lot of it in my pants and underwear. I desperately try to remove them and not cut myself. ☆

(One night later) I’m confined in my grandparent’s house, someone who wants to harm me is inside too, and I freak out smashing the windows, screaming and shouting desperately. There’s broken glass all over the floor again. ☆

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red blood bed

I am a police officer. It is my first days on the job, the same goes for my partner. We’re driving in our patrol car. For some reason my partner stops the car and gets out–he is holding someone in the sights of his gun. I don’t know why, or what provoked him. He fires. The man dies fairly quickly. I’m not comfortable. I don’t know why he shot. Back at the station our supervisor makes him fill out a bunch of paperwork concerning the death.
A few days later I am in a similar situation. I am holding a man in my gun’s sights–he raises his arms and he is holding a gun. I fire. The man appears to die, and I have to go and fill out paperwork.
More days pass. I am in my room (though it does not represent any room I have every had). The man I shot comes in. My partner is sitting in a car in the corner, laughing, constantly laughing. I shoot the man, and he begins to bleed out of his chest. He is cheerful about the situation, and moves to my bed. He begins to taunt me and is proud that he is bleeding all over my bed. I start to reload my gun. It is taking too long for him to die. My partner hasn’t stopped laughing. I then notice that the bleeding man is trying to put a gun together. So I grab at it and wrestle it away from him. We end up on the floor before I successfully get the gun pieces out of his hand. He returns to bleed on my bed, and my partner never ceases to laugh. I put the gun together with the intention to shoot him in the head. But for some reason I put my two guns down in order to get something. He lunges for them and gets the guns. He is weak but manages to tackle me and pin me under him. He is bleeding all over me and attempting to muster enough strength to pull the trigger. I conjure myself awake before it he manages–my partner’s laugh still in my ear as I rouse into the waking world. ♨

dead end

I broke into a house with a friend of mine — the friend was a woman for sure, some sort of hybrid of my Mother and one of my best friends. She was pissed off at the homeowner, and I’m not sure exactly why. But she was full of a righteous anger. The homeowner was also a woman — I didn’t see her, but in my dream I knew who she was (though now I don’t recall). It was night, and she was asleep. We crawled in through a back window, we were in the basement, my friend started vandalizing the house. She started smashing the framed family photos on the wall, and when she realized the sound wasn’t drawing any serious attention she went crazy. I left the house and waited outside. I didn’t like what was happening. I didn’t know what I got myself into. I waited under a tree at the side of the house, and looked out at the cal-de-sac in a daze — partially keeping an eye out for signs of police. The cal-de-sac was the same as the one my family’s home is in and where I grew up. Occasional I would go back and check to see what was happening and try to get my friend to abandon her malicious project, but to no avail. I waited under that tree until daybreak. Then I demanded that we go, and I said I would steal the small mobile-home from the driveway and wait in the dead-end street around the corner from the cal-de-sac (a place I spent much of my childhood). I did so, and as I was there some strangers came that wanted to buy the mobile-home. I thought that it maybe a good idea to get rid of it, but didn’t want to deal with the paperwork. Finally my friend showed up, she more clearly resembled my Mother at this point, and she said she was done and that we could leave. I remember feeling bad for the woman in the house, and feeling ashamed that I played a role in the havoc. While driving away, trailing the stolen mobile-home, I saw that the house was my family’s home. ♨