Date: 13-03-2021
I think I didn’t accurately record the date for this dream. It was dated on 11-03-021, but perhaps that’s when I last made an edit. I put it on the 13th, but only because I don’t want push it back further than what I can be sure of. Here’s the dream:
This dream started on a shopping ship. I have no idea if such a thing even exists. It was a giant ship, the size of a cruise ship, and it was filled with shops like it was a floating shopping-mall. Every floor had its own theme; toys, electronics, furniture, etc. But sometimes just random shops that didn’t fit the theme. I was on “the ground floor” which was the floor on which you boarded the ship. Below and above us were more floors. My mom was with me, but she went to do her own thing quite early in the dream. We would do our things separately from here.
I was looking for a toilet, because, yes, this again; I had to pee. But then I recalled I had talked to a hacker online, and he had advised me to purchase an external DVD-player. And I remembered this hacker was also on this vessel, so I just started shouting his name, hahaha. Other people even joined in, and miraculously the calls were answered. The reply came from the toilet area. Good! I was looking for the bathroom too, so now I found both him and the bathroom.
The toilet stalls were more like the fitting rooms you’d find in clothing shops. There was a toilet bowl, a coat stand, and a curtain you could draw for privacy. A little boy emerged behind one of the curtains, maybe 10 years of age. He asked out loud: “Which one of you is called ‘Monster’?” In the dream this was the nickname I had used, so I replied to him. I asked him about the DVD-player he had recommended. But he was in defensive mode: “I’m not talking.” I was surprised. He affirmed: “I’m not talking until you prove you are who you claim you are.” It was a smart way for him to confirm if I wasn’t anyone else trying to out him. Everyone could’ve said yes to his question. I showed him our conversation on my phone, and added additional details. He lowered his guard, and turned out to be real friendly.
He was just cautious being a hacker and all. He gave me directions to a few shops where I would be likely to get the device from for a decent price. I set out to look for those shops, forgetting about my own need to use the bathroom. While walking I suddenly entered the greenhouse at my work, and it was being renovated. I saw people I knew but also many I didn’t. They were working really hard, but also the plants were being taken care of; they were being sprayed with some kind of “care fluid” and dead leafs were being removed. In the dream I “wondered off” for a couple of hours, and returned to the greenhouse to find the renovation works were finished. It looked extraordinarily fine at first glance.
That was until I came across a bunch of dead plants. They still had their form, but they were all brown in colour. My boss had joined me now and saw the dead plants. He told me he wasn’t going to let this go. “They’re going to reimburse us!” He said. As he walked out I noticed that the renovations had included a sprinkler system in the hallway. And these new sprinklers sprang on just as I noticed them. Because they were spraying so hard and nowhere in particular, most water didn’t end up in plant pots, but would just spill over the floor. The hallway floor was getting wet and a puddle was creeping over the floor in the direction of our wooden tribune stairs.
I quickly found a large floor squeegee to move the water in the direction of a drain. The renovation works had included the placement of extra drains, which was something we had requested a few times actually. Part of the puddle seemed to move itself towards the drain, and I wondered how long this had been going on, cause me and my colleagues occasionally found “mystery pools” of water inside the greenhouse for real, so in the dream I reasoned that maybe this was the source. I kept using the floor squeegee to prevent water damage to the tribune stairs, but meanwhile my need to use the bathroom had come back, and I really needed to address this now. I no longer could postpone it, so I left this water drama as I found it.
Walking through the enormous structure I couldn’t find any bathrooms at all. Eventually I did find a train station. Curious. On a ship. On the station itself there were no toilets, but there was a train standing idle at one of the platforms. Trains have toilets, so I just entered the train. It didn’t matter where it went, I desperately needed to relieve myself. The doors closed and the train started moving while I searched for its latrine. And I found it, opened the door, saw an enormously spacious long narrow bathroom, where in the back a man was standing, using the toilet. Maybe he had forgotten to lock the door? I closed the door again, and waited outside until he exited. When he did, I entered, locked the door behind me, and went looking for the toilet in this enormous room.
I again couldn’t find it! It looked different now, like I had to crawl through some maintenance cabins with all sorts of panels, hatches, beams, tubes, etc. Finally I arrived in the main area. There was a bench where someone else was waiting. It seemed like a passenger and not someone waiting to use the toilet. It was confusing. But in the back I finally saw the actual toilet bowl. But to the immediate left side of the bowl sat two Indian looking men, squatted. They were just talking there… I addressed the man on the bench, and asked him whether he was aware he was in the toilet area. He knew: “Yes, but the train was so busy, and I really wanted a place to sit.” The train was indeed quite busy. “Would you mind if I made use of the facilities?” I asked. “No, not at all. Go right ahead.” He answered.
I walked to the toilet bowl, where those men were talking in Hindi. I truly needed to go now, so I did not bother with my manners. Who in their right mind would choose this place to sit down and have a talk, next to a public toilet bowl?! I firmly said: “Sorry, but I have to use the toilet.” They looked up angrily and did nothing. They stayed in place, so I just opened my fly. Still they didn’t move! So, after a few seconds, I just whipped it out, and started doing my business. But these two men still didn’t fucking move! They were just giving me the angry eyes while I stood there, pissing. What was wrong with these guys? I did try not to create too much of a splatter, but the train now entered its next station, meaning it was swinging left to right as it crossed a bunch of junctions to get to the right entry track. And of course, my stream promptly took a path over the pants of the man nearest to the bowl.
And he got all mad at me, but started his angry rant in Hindi. Of course I couldn’t understand a word he said, and it was unclear to me whether he spoke no Dutch at all or whether this man was simply impolite to an extreme degree. But I was mad at him too, obviously. So I interjected him and said: “Look, man. Don’t like getting pissed on? Then don’t sit there!” Now a fourth person entered the room which I was pretty sure I locked. That explained why I was able to enter the first time; the lock was broken. It might also explain why there were so many people in this particular space at all. There should only be one person at any one given time.
It was getting too crowded in there and that Indian guy didn’t shut up either, so I left. I wanted to find out which train I was in. I tried to get this info by using a travelling app, to no avail. The maps app didn’t work either. But then the conductor announced over the intercom which train this was. It was the train to Maastricht via Venlo. That shocked me slightly. None of these cities were anywhere near a place I would call close to home. It was going to be a long journey back home. I got off at the station. I think this was Venlo. It was an old city. There were canals, maybe a lake or very large pond? It looked like some place I might have visited before. I walked around and I felt differently.
I felt like I was light as a feather. Every time I pushed off from the ground, it would take longer and longer for me to come back down to the ground. The harder I pushed and the more often I did so, the longer this took. Like a man walking on the moon I moved quite rapidly along a path along side the water. It was busy with pedestrians. I literally jumped over everyone else, but I wasn’t the only one to do this. Others apparently were able to do this too. Everyone had their own way of doing it, and everyone had a different level of skill. Some barely got off the ground while others flew through the sky like rockets. It was amazing!
I wanted to try and fly like them, so I tried to find out what my maximum time of remaining airborne was, without pushing off. I found out that I didn’t have to push myself off the ground at all, I would just hover all by myself by thinking it. Through my will I could change my direction and height. This I tried for a while, practising this new found skill. I sometimes made swimming movements, but that was out of reflex. It wasn’t necessary. I got better at it, and it was so incredibly cool. I decided I would just fly home instead of taking the train, and was looking forward to that journey. But first I needed to relax a bit. Like I was laying in a hammock I rested just above the grass near the side of the water. This was very enjoyable. I took it all in. What a day.
After spending some time resting, I was ready. I was going to fly back home. I did give myself a little push with my foot, but it wasn’t necessary. I levitated upwards. But while I was trying to get my bearings, I saw someone I knew, walking on the street. It was an old colleague of mine, and her nickname was Rose. She had two young children with her. Rose was always a sight to behold, but her hair was now even more beautiful than it used to be. She was almost illuminating. Her hair was also straight now, where it used to be curly, and it was loose, where she would normally wear it in a ponytail. When she saw me it seemed I had startled her a bit.
I must’ve been illuminating myself too, and I was the first to say something: “Hi Rose! How are you? You look magnificent!” She was happy to see me. We had a brief conversation. Most of the details of this escaped me. I do recall it was sometimes slightly awkward. She had been through a lot. And she now had two children. But she was happy now. I told her about my long lasting quest to find a toilet, and how I ended up here after pissing over some Indian guy’s legs. We had a laugh at the surreality of it. She wished me luck flying back home. “Thanks, Rose! I wish you well.” I replied. Then I took off.
I flew over the city centre. It consisted out of old houses and narrow alleyways. But as I went along, I felt I was slowly losing my flying mojo, and I had to occasionally push myself off again on the tops of the buildings, or grip myself on the rain drainage. But I found that all the houses had some kind of decorative ridges along their walls just under the roof tiles and drainage. I could sometimes take a moment to rest there, or push off again when I needed to. Very convenient, as if it was made for this. I began losing ever more flying abilities, and I was “stumbling” while airborne, struggling to maintain height and direction.
I rested some more on the a ridge that was above an outside terrace where people were seated under a parasol. They were all old folk, enjoying a beverage in the summer evening sun. I kept quiet so they wouldn’t hear me, and I overheard them talking. They were talking about the very ridges along the houses I was resting on. An old lady explained: “A long time ago, in the early days, there were people who could build works of art using just words. We called them truth speakers. These people could fly. Those ridges were made for them so they could rest here. We wanted them to feel welcome here, cause they came from afar. They were Veeners.”
I was listening to this and thought to myself this description does seem to fit me. “So I am a Veener? Curious. And I am a truth speaker!” There was a moment of realisation. I found it fascinating. I realised I had to get back home, to finish what I started; my website. Then I woke up. Take a guess what I really needed to do when I woke up.
Analysis:
Last night before I went to bed I had made changes to a part of my website I was not happy about. Something about it was wrong and some things were missing, and so I wanted to improve that chapter. I think I now succeeded in writing down what it was supposed to be. The passage I have written and adapted are about what I dubbed ‘the Spark of Life’. In Dutch, a ‘spark’ is called ‘vonk’. The last name of my colleague is the Dutch word for Spark. Make of it what you will.
