I dream of trying to get on a countryside wall whilst out walking with some friends (can't remember who), and I put my hand straight in dogshit. I groan and try to wipe it on the grass, which seems to only spread it around. Spying a river down the hill, I amble down through trees and down beside a stony old bridge. It's moving and it's not water. The dark black seems to be going strangely and as I look closely, it's not water - the thing is a swarm/flock/pride (?) of dogs. Staffordshire Bull Terriers. Hundreds of them. They move almost noiselessly, and their black eyes stare up at me. I run back and up the countryside.
Weeks later, I go back with someone (who?) to show them, but there's nothing there. On the way up, we pass some turfed over mounds of earth, which are covered with polythene. I know that these contain poison belonging to some prolific British film director.
Then I wake up.
5 comments:
god..
my childhood was spent runing through the grass barefooted and skidding through either dog, or gooseshit..
I hate farms
I love animals but this is just plain assed weird friend. Dreams are plain weird. Thanks for sharing though.
its funny well in my dreams anyways how whatever is chasing me I can never seem to get away from
like total impossible
The Other Side Of A Gemini now showing on my blog
I was taught by wise people that history is the greatest educator. Also, some of the most eloquent educational tools in the historical sense have been the ‘inversions of history’ type, eg ‘Barbequarea’ a film where a fleet of aboriginal ships invades an isolated and naive ‘white’ Australia and where mounted aboriginal police bash and arrest whites defiantly marching down George St on Anzac Day. Another film of the genre portrayed black Africans on safari in Austria, with Austrians carrying the equipment, and then archiving the strange customs of the native Austrians ie leiderhosen boot dancing and the rapid consumption of a drink known as ‘lager’ under temporary canvas tents and a full moon. Weird. The relevance here is that, in an inversion of the Western missionary cargo cult strategy of air-dropping bibles into naive native villages in the South Pacific, we need a wealthy and well-meaning athiest (or socialist) to sponsor the air-dropping of millions of copies of Richard Dawkins academic and excellent book “The God Delusion” into that backwater of superstition and religious ignorance called the United States of America. Put me down for a hundred buck donation. Tax deductible I hope.
wow...strange dream....do you have a fear of dogs?
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