I dream some really werid shit, as defined by one of my other dreams that I have wrote about. It’s rare for one to really have me thrown for a loop so much I actually have to mull it over after it has ended, but when you dream like a David Lynch film being watched backwards… you gotta think about it. This dream… well, I don’t know what to say, but everything I write took place. I might be MENTAL.

Firstly it started in a boat. The boat was like a long corridor, like a canal boat, but there was no doors on any of the walls. The cast went as follows: Steven, my mum, a boy with short hair, two dogs, a man called Chop and a faceless man that I assumed was me. We went up to the roof and sat on the roof of the boat like a Bateuax Mouche in Paris and looked at the city scapes. I asked the boy what his name was and he replied “Claire” which I laughed at. He then repeated “Claire” as the boat went along.

We then disembarked and boarded a small train. The train was very similar to a coffin… with the lid off. The tracks were smaller than the other railway tracks and the train was very low down. We sat at the platform for a while as the bigger trains roared past and I mentioned “We are going to be late” and with this the train started to move. Chop asked me “Fifteen or Twelve?” and I answered back “Changes” and the train suddenly went faster before slowly stopping on a hill.

The train then split and myself, Steve and my Mum rolled back down the hill to the bottom, valleying there. The two of them jumped out and dived into the back streets of the city – at this point the dream turned into black and white. We roamed the streets looking for a way into wherever we were trying to get to. I had no idea in the dream where I was trying to go. We then accidentally end up in the lobby of the Hotel. Chop, now the receptionist asks me again, “Fifteen or Twelve” and I now answer “Twelve”. I grab the key and run to the lift, and go to the fifth floor and to room Twelve. There are three body guards at the door wouldn’t let me. I then turned around and ran down the stairs.

At this point, like most dreams, the hotel had changed I couldn’t find the door. I was stuck in the hotel and finally found the lift. I jumped into the lift and the doors, now like an old style lift were gratings, shut on me and Steve who had suddenly appeared at my side. He then said “This place is made of things that don’t exist” and the lift descended to the canals. We get back onto the canal boat, now driven by Claire, as I start to wake up.

What the hell was that all about?