Category: Attack Themed

Lifting up – Drone Overview – Colours – Dream 31-05-2025

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Here is this morning’s short dream which replayed a number of times.

The dream starts in a normal city setting in which people are going about their business in a semi-frantic manner. They are rushing about. They are sat at home watching TV, playing computer games and glued to their devices. There is much toing and froing. The colours of life are not vibrant and there is enmity. People are convinced that they are right and living THE life. Like a speeded up Koyaanisqatsi film time lapse, life whizzes by.

I am sat on a small grassy hill nearby. In my hand I have a flying drone controller with which I initially pilot a drone over their life. I turn on the camera and cast the images to their devices. I lift the drone which is white with four silent propellers up out of the scenery to show them the beauty outside of their world. I take control of the drone with my mind and project a world with less enmity and stress. It is relaxed green and pastoral. I show them what they are missing. The colours are bright and vivacious.

The scene starts to replay. As I start to lift the drone out of their normality they set dogs on the drone. The dogs jump and try to catch the drone in their mouths. They are egged on by their owners. Who do not want to see. They, the owners, have high animosity towards me because I am trying to show them another, higher, wider perspective on their lives. No matter how hard the dogs try they cannot catch the drone and I continue to cast “higher” to their devices. I am not in any way thanked for my efforts.

The dream ends after several repeats.

Train Journeys – Freak Show – Dream 18-05-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream which I had difficulty naming. To note – travel tends to interrupt the dreaming, and we are not long back from Jersey. Trains re-present a socially conditioned state of awareness in that you are complied by the tracks.

The dream starts on a very long French train with a modern looking white/grey aerodynamic locomotive. The train is extensive. We are stopped in the middle of the countryside for no apparent reason. There is no station or level crossing. Just to the side of the tracks and underneath it there is a municipal child’s playground, fenced off at the edge of a camping ground. A road leads via a tunnel under the tracks which are on an embankment.

Several children are playing in the park. They are accompanied by a man wearing a Freddy Krueger style hat and striped Denis the Menace red and black jumper. He also has a white formed facial mask. The wife goes down to investigate and play with the children. The man is rude to her in French and leads the children off. I can see that he has a large, near machete style knife dangling from his belt.

The wife comes back to the train mildly upset. I say what did you expect from the look of him with that horror mask. As she does this, looking upset, I take from my pocket a white tissue in which is the point of the blade from the man’s knife. I have broken it off at a distance and it has shattered into my tissue. I have disarmed him. I throw the contents of my tissue into a rubbish bin, and it makes a metallic clatter.

We then proceed towards the baggage handling car. The train is now moving towards Caen – Ouistreham a destination which we did not book, nor do we have a need to be there. In the baggage car there is a conveyor belt, like baggage reclaim in an airport. A couple, a woman and her husband, start to talk with us in English. They are not “all there” and are making no sense. They split up and head to opposite ends of the train.

Next a being walks into the car. It is a tall female with long dark hair roughly our age dressed in a long green dress. Out of her stomach protrudes the head and shoulders of a balding middle-aged man with a partial comb over. His complexion is ruddy. She is looking one way and he the other. She starts talking to us and he gesticulates with arms that are now visible. They look conjoined and not really of this world. We look on and they exit. We can see that there is a large vintage bustle to her dress as she leaves. The wife and I turn to each other and think/know the words “freak show”.

There is now an officious woman belonging to the train company who insists that we must book through her to get the best deal. I say to her that this is exactly what we tried and have ended up being on entirely the wrong train. The next time we will book through an online broker. She is insistent that we MUST book through her. I think to myself that she has no idea and there is no way I will use her again.

The train pulls up and we exit it. Our mobile home / truck is sat at a weighbridge before boarding. A man is heading at speed with a key to try to unlock a locker behind the driver’s cab. I know that he cannot possibly unlock it but that nevertheless I must beat him to the locker because it is extraordinarily dangerous for him to even try to unlock what he does not know, to open something he does not understand. He is in very deep peril especially if he gets there before me. I hasten to the mobile home and taking a key on the end of a chain around the neck, I insert it into the lock just as the man approaches. He looks disheartened. I do not turn the key simply stand there warding off. Under no circumstance should he try.

Next, I am at a country crossroads in which there is a level crossing barrier across railway tracks. The “road” is dusty and without tarmac. Several of us are stood at the barrier. A train is being pulled by a royal blue steam locomotive it approaches and passes. It is pulling high class vintage pullman carriages with people in period costume inside. The steam train is magnificent. I did not know they had such things still. The train passes and people lift the barrier manually. We are clearly in rural India. There are people with large cattle like animals now crossing the tracks.

I pick up a stick on the end of which Dick Wittington style is a piece of cloth containing my belongings and clothes. I am bare-footed and wearing loose blue cotton trousers. My feet are tanned and accustomed to walking bare foot. I start to walk along the tracks standing on the wooden cross boards. Two young Indian men are whispering. They are going to follow me and attempt to rob me. I know this. They are conspiring. They do not know how long or how fast I can walk. I say to them, “If you want to try to rob me, please feel free to try!”

The dream ends.

Wolfgang – Switzerland – Being Slagged Off – Martial Arts Grading – UKE Dream 07-04-2025

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Here is last night’s dream. I was on much reduced medication to see how I coped. Sleep was not deep.

The dream starts in a communal office setting. Wolfgang {flat mate – and subsequent employee} is sat opposite me. He has a thin pencil moustache and something of a mullet, neither of which he was accustomed to have. He is upset with me because he thinks that I have been mean to him and reneged on our friendship. I have done no such thing to my eyes. I know in the dream that because I do not do transactional “friendships” I do not have “friends” in the traditional social sense. I am very poor at “normal” friendships. I do not do mutual praise and ego stroking. People cannot relate to me because they do not get the normal feedback they are expecting. I say to Wolfgang that he may have misjudged.

The scene now coalesces to the shared common room area of our floor in the University of Bern. Sat around the table are many of the people from the research group. Wolfgang says in front of them all, that they have all been slagging me off and bad mouthing me, partially because I did not fit in and suck up. He says that I was always the outsider. I say to him that it is in no way new to me to have people gossip and slag me off behind my back whilst pretending to be nice and friendly to my face. I say that people can be very mercenary when they think that I have something(s) they want. I say to him that he needs to get over it, his misplaced upset. I say that his moustache looks ridiculous.

The scene changes to a large martial arts dojo. I am dressed in a judogi wearing a dark green belt around my middle. I am with the sensei, and he is showing me a list of people who are up for their blue belt grading. In this schema, blue is below green. There are a lot of people due for grading and we, the higher grades, are to be uke to their tori. We know that gradings are about form and not real combat. We will be willingly thrown about by numerous people doing their gradings in order for them to learn.

I am up first with four people one from each direction. East, North, West and South.  The people are of ill-defined gender and wearing judogi already with a light blue belt, the colour of which they seek to upgrade. One by one they come to me and holding a fighting stance assume their left hand in an upper block, jodan-uke. I place my arm similarly wrist to wrist. We then start to apply force and ki. They are trying to hold their position. I let them match me for a while and continue to ramp up until I start to sense them falter. Knowing that this is not about me winning rather them having an experience, I ease back just before breaking point. I do this with the first three directions. The woman from the South has defined gender and when she comes up for stance there is no need, because we already understand each other.

I know that there are hundreds more to come in the grading session. On the mat practice continues and we know, the sensei and I, that they have never yet experienced full contact combat which is a game changer.

The dream ends.

Air Israel – Kabbala – Golden Orbs – Keter – Dream 08-03-2025

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This dream is from around 6 AM this morning. I have been waking because of pain in my lower spine and sacroiliac joints. I have been taking ~4 AM paracetamol to mitigate this.

The dream starts at an airport. The weather is warm and dry. On the tarmac with two boarding staircases is a jet air craft. In an angular script is written in large blue letters Air Israel. I am queuing with others to board the plane. There are people of all ages but the background is of wealth and the majority of them are Jewish. There are a few Hassidim with beaten up small leather carry-ons. There is a hub-bub of conversation. I climb the stairs and am welcomed by the cabin crew. Because of my appearance and colouring there is implicit an initial understanding that I am Jewish too. I take my seat on the aisle next to a couple with a toddler. The man is older than the woman and they are of American origin.

The flight takes off and I go to the galley to get food. The interior of the plane is now like the ground floor of a hotel with seminar tooms and a plenary. At the galley they are serving a very meat heavy dish with soup and dumplings, it is garlic rich. I move on to the self-service area. There is a selection of salads. I select one with lettuce and green lentils. I sit at a table and am soon joined by several young people who are in high spirits, they are anticipating their holidays, their stay on a kibbutz in the wilderness away from their parents.

Soon everyone moves to the plenary. A middle aged woman is on stage and she is throwing out pieces of puzzles. The idea is to use these pieces to construct a kabbalistic tree of life, Otz Chim. Everyone has flip chart paper, pens, scissors, card, string, glue and blue tac. The exercise is to keep people occupied on the flight. I catch some of the resources which the woman is throwing.

I start to build my tree of life. I start to make a three dimensional model between four vertical pillars. These pillars are about 2 cm in diameter and like Greco-Roman architecture pillars with striations top to bottom. They are gilded in a silver-gold mix. I build my tree of life in a quasi-helical fashion and not plan form. Each of the sephirah in my model is constructed out of a golden orb which I pull out of my pocket. The orbs are table tennis ball size and are decorated with an equatorial golden overlay motif. They are suspended in free space with no path structure. I pull out the last orb, Keter, and place it on top of the tree. Within the columns there is still top room for the veils of unmanifest. Keter is unusual in that it has to it a visor, like on a motorcycle helmet.

The woman on the stage suggests that we all switch tables and compare our handiwork. I join the table of a matriarch and her two late teen sons. I know that they are soon off to university. The woman looks at my tree and says that it in not bad for a goy. I open the visor on Keter and the model is filled with a radiant light, it comes to life. I say to her that the secret is Malkuth. She says don’t you mean Keter. I say yes, I deliberately mixed them up.

One of the sons comes over to me and takes out some tracing paper he is very keen to measure the dimensions of my design. He asks why there are no words on the paths and the sephirah like on everybody else’s designs. He says they could be in English or Hebrew. I say to him that if you need to use words then you have not understood nor attained the sephiroth. Words are by way of spells and are distractions from the path(s). The young man is excited and wants to learn from / with me.

In the dream I wonder if, because of the pain in my lower spine, Malkuth, I am under some form of psychic or occult attack. I make a resolution to look into it and if needed call up a Vajrapāṇi for protection.

The dream ends.

Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson Dreams 03-02-2025

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Here is last night’s sequence of dreams. I made no attempt to rejoin the dreams on waking but this is kind of what happened. I awoke multiple times and can think of no obvious reason, this side of the channel, why BoJo should pop up.

The first part starts on a beach which has sand dunes behind it. There are a number of people on the beach and the weather is clement though not hot and sunny. I hear some vehicles pull up and some shouting. Men darkly clothed and armed with Kalashnikov assault rifles are charging the beach firing. I shout to everyone to get into the sea and swim as far out as they can. Bullets are ripping into the water as we get further out to sea. I can see dead on the beach and blood in the sea.

There is a strong tide forcing us up the length of the beach. I encounter Boris who has been swimming there. We are being forced towards a rocky part at the end of the beach. There is no way around the headland, and we are forced to land one the beach. I say to Boris that he must resist the temptation to say who he is and to try not to give the terrorists a piece of his mind. There is an off chance that they won’t recognise him, and we should save that for later should we need it.

I wake up

The next section starts in an underground cave. We are clearly in a hostage situation. The cave is equipped with computers, cameras and much media kit. The terrorists are partially masked and clearly highly organised. The hostages me included are now dressed. Boris and I are at the back of one cave with two young boys. I have suggested to Boris that he keeps a low profile and minimise the risk of being recognised. The terrorists have installed a huge TV, and we can see that there is a media circus on the dunes. There are multiple religious groups amongst the hostages, and we are international.

Boris starts to chat with the young boys. One of them says that he can see daylight coming into the tunnel. Boris suggests that he quietly investigates. Which he does. There is a gap. Something kicks off in the main terrorist room. Sending the boys first we attempt to leave the tunnel. Boris manages to bash his head and although a little dazed we make it out into the sunlight.

I awake.

I am now walking with Boris towards a semi-ruined church. I know that inside there are Buddhists keeping vigil for those held in the hostage taking. Unusually these Buddhists are wearing grey robes and are mostly Western. I knock on the church door and am welcomed in by a Buddhist “priest”. I explain what has happened and who Boris is. The man sits Boris down and tends to a slight wound on his head with some cotton wool and water. The atmosphere in the church is calm and tranquil.

The priest asks Boris for a number to call for people to come and get him. Boris takes the ‘phone and calls for help.

I awake.

I am now sitting in a room with Boris and Carrie. I explain to Boris that, he is like me, a Wood Dragon by birth and that we are contemporaries. I say that if he really wanted to be world king, he should have stuck with Alexander which is more regal than Boris. I ask him if there are any umlauts in the spelling of his name because I may do his numerology.

I say that he is a lot fitter than me. He says that downstairs in a bottle is some fat which he has had sucked out of his body and that accounts for it. I know he is joking. I explain that although we both can see bigger pictures, he as an ENTP is very different from me as an INFJ.

I awake again and wonder what the bloody hell has Johnson been doing to be in and out of my dreams all night.

Tibet / Nepal / Katmandu – Being Shot – .99 Calibre Dream 02-08-2018

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I am waiting at a train station to get a train up to the top of a mountain in darkness. The idea is to get the train up during the night and then walk down as darkness yields to dawn. The train station has an “Indian-Asian” flavour but is old school. There is a lot of hustle and bustle. The word comes that at last the train is ready. We all board the train and it chugs off, windows open, up the mountain. We are at sea level and the mountain train stop is at 3600m.

When we get there to the top it is like Nepal / Katmandu / Tibet. There are many “hippie” tourists here and what “we” are about to do is a part of THE “trail”. In my mind I wonder if I will be recognised by people at the top.

“We” set off down the hill past a small blue lake where there are Buddhist monks meditating and they bless us as is their custom. We continue on the trail down the hill as darkness continues to fade and dawn comes in. It is a long hike down.

Next, I am with a tall thin blonde woman with curly hair whom I do not recognise. We are in “Katmandu” or a town like it with many tourist “hippie” shops and hawkers. One of these latches on to the woman and I try to dissuade him. He draws a knife as if to attack. I disarm him and he runs off very displeased and very angry with me.

Sometime later the “air-raid” siren goes off and people are sheltering. I find myself a niche in the stone and lay down with my bag over my head. I remove this as there does not seem to be any attack. The man from earlier is now standing over me with a pistol. He shoots me in the left leg which stings a great deal. He says that he might kill me. I start to ask him why and move to get up. He shoots me again lower down my leg. I cry out for help. The police come running and he runs off. The “Indian” policeman says that I have been shot twice with a .99 calibre weapon.

Strangely despite this I am able to walk / limp.

Later the man finds me again and asks me if the blonde woman is my fiancée. I say that we have never met. He intimates that he will get even with me by getting at her. I tell him that before “yesterday” I had never met the woman.

He is doing a drug deal and wants me to skin up with his hashish. I attempt this but fail. The police then come and he runs off. His idea was that I am caught in possession of hashish. I throw this down a street drain. The police are not concerned about me rather the man who set me up.

“Wolfgang” is there and we are discussing how thing are very different at 3600m. He says, as he has done previously, that people are and have been gossiping about me.

Outside of town the lake has now frozen. The idea now is to ski down the mountain. Given my injured leg I am unsure about this. So, I try to ski / skate on the frozen lake which is covered in snow. I can do this easily. I am able to make turns on the ski-skate rink which in the dream I find highly enjoyable shouting, “Yaaaay”….

I wake up and the dream ends.

—————–

* 9 is the jewel of awareness completion

3 + 6 = 9

9 + 9 =18

18 is the jewel of awareness courage.

M15 – Archives – Drones – Almeria Dream – 01-07-2008

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The dream starts in a loading bay of a newish building. There is a cab there that can be accessed by a door. A woman goes through a door and gets into the left hand side of the cab. I go through another door into a white sided room, I had thought that this would take me to the cab. Instead, I find myself in an old fashioned white lift which is a very tight fit for me. The lift is going down into a basement or sub-basement area. I know with certainty that this is the home of the security services MI5.

I exit the lift and am in the archives. It is secret. There are shelf upon shelf of books and records there. I come upon a man who is very familiar to me. He is startled to see me there. He is dressed as an “old school” English man. {Bletchley Park etc.}. He comments that he does not know why but he knows me. I say that I share the feeling. He shows me his hands. At the end of each finger is a tiny tool of some sort, like jeweller’s tools, they are all fanciful and wonderful. The implication is that he works meticulously. Although I recognise him, he is not someone that I currently know.

There is an explosion. We walk towards the window. Two space age helicopter crafts are coming towards us they are dropping bombs. He says that he will protect me but we must leave the building now.

We leave and are walking through a market square. There is debris of various craft stalls there. There are surveillance drones flying around. He points to two headlight like things lying on the floor. I pick them up, they will protect me.

I know that I must find Alveria or Almeria {it sounded like that}. One of the drones is now attacking me. I throw down one of the headlight things. It creates a massive puff of intense blue smoke. The scene changes.

There are now lots of large Arab style tents {Tuareg?} They are draped in cloths of a blue-indigo-blue hue.

I am wandering around the tents looking for something. J is somehow around. I am not concerned. I find a small white dog wrapped up in a blue cloth. I move on searching in a relaxed manner amongst the tents.

As I start to come to the entire dreamscape is filled with a deep royal blue, followed by indigo purple, then back to a blue-indigo-blue.

Dream ends.

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*During the Malaya insurgency my uncle, an officer in The Royal Corps of Signals, was recommended for his MBE by a General who was head of Military Intelligence {MI6?} and about whom little can be found. My uncle went onto to be a Colonel working out of Horse Guards Parade in London.

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Hunted / Assassin Dream 13-05-21

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Here is this morning’s dream.

I am exploring a near derelict building / building site. I have heard and can sense that someone is sending an assassin to hunt me down and kill me. He has been paid for by some people that I once knew, who wish me ill. Because I know that he is coming I can prepare my path.

I find an underground swimming pool that is partially filled. I get in the water and dip below the surface. Because the room is poorly lit, he will not be able to see me there and the water will mask any infrared signature. I can hold my breath for a long time. This is one hiding place, under water.

I get out of the water and go to a derelict men’s toilet. I go into one of the cubicles and lock the door. At the back of the cubicle is a kind of shelf which I climb on. If he enters the room, he will not be able to see my legs under the cubicle doors.

I then go out onto some scaffolding arranged around the building. It is on multiple levels and some kind of maze. I can see thick electrical cables. I adjust some of these so that the bare end of the cable would hit anyone running along the scaffolding. I note that some of these cables are live. There is a gap in the scaffolding flooring. I trail a cable so that it is over the middle of the gap. I have done this so that I can swing by the cable over the gap. The assassin chasing me will not be able to do this because he is carrying a rifle with a telescopic sight.

In the dream I know that I can run between these three scenes when the assassin comes for me. I am unconcerned in the dream because I have made some rudimentary plan. They are hunting me.

Dream ends.

Worked up Cardiff Bus – Fox – London Bus Dream Sequence 15-08-2024

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This dream sequence is unusual because I had a “real” world encounter with a fox in the middle.

The dream starts with me being on a double decker bus {Social Conditioning / awareness thereof}. I am in Cardiff and on the ground {grounded?} floor of the bus. The conductor comes by and asks me where I am going. I say Cardiff Queen Street {Implied Queen Street station – social conditioning}. He suggests that the bus {Social Conditioning} is heading in the wrong direction but I must nevertheless buy a ticket. He, using a very old fashioned ticket machine, rolls of a ~ one inch long old school pinkish paper bus ticket marked with a black ink. I reach into my pocket and get out my wallet. I pay him with an old green one pound note. {Money = crystallised power one = fluidity or the lack thereof not sure if the one is significant. The one pound note was withdrawn in 1988. The feeling is more of old and old fashioned. An old way of giving power away?}

Up ahead we can see Dewi Sant, St David’s Centre. It looks very modern. I know that I must get off the bus. {Social Conditioning} I must change direction away from the old.

–

–

The only real social conditioning I am interacting with aside from our own is social media – LinkedIn. My WordPress and Substack don’t as yet have much social interaction.

I awake and visit the loo. Nearby the loo is one of the doors to the house made of glass. The shutter is always partially down to avert bird strikes. Just the other side of the door is an adolescent fox who I know from trail cam is a regular visitor. He is less than a metre from my feet and he has not yet heard or seen me. Straight from the dream this is an odd sensation. I stand still for several seconds. The fox remains oblivious. I make a slight clicking sound in my mouth the fox hears me and disappears.

Fox is the dreaming symbol for cunning, rationality and or logic and denotes the need for these things

I go back to bed and fall asleep.

I am now on a driverless {Going nowhere? chaotic} red double decker {Social Conditioning / awareness thereof} bus in London. I am on the top deck. It is careering through the streets near Leicester Square. I am engaged in combat with a tall Chinese {I often associated Chinese with the old, too many kung fu movies} man who is trying to kill me. He has an accomplice. I fight {need for protection?} with the man and he eventually falls off the bus {Social Conditioning / awareness thereof} and his body folds at the hip such that his legs {Ability to let go or move forward in life} are at an unusual angle. The legs twang back into position. And he shakes his fist at me angrily as the bus drives off.

I climb down the outside of the bus and into the driver’s seat.  {Take control of the state of awareness.}

I know that I must meet some young {new} people at a square outside {a sense of open space, un cluttered}  the centre of London. In my mind’s eye I can see them travelling there. I drive the bus {Social Conditioning / awareness thereof} to a square with many trees and shade.

Dream ends.

——————————

I was born in Cardiff.

I have not been there in well over two decades. I associate St David’s centre with opera concerts and buying last minute Christmas presents.

We did look into moving back to Cardiff or the Cardiff area.

Given the bus theme the dreams segments are probably linked.

Working idea is that the bus is LinkedIn

LinkedIn in not going where I want it to, I need to pay for the ride a little longer and then get off the bus and try a different direction.

Someone is angry at me on the bus and is having trouble letting go. It is a London bus. There is a lot of old for me in London.

In reality someone could be angry.

It is looking like the dreamer is advising that the time to leave LinkedIn is soon.

The old pound note {1981-1988} had a picture of the queen on it and in the example here a Caduceus. The flip side was Issac Newton. This would be the note that I used last.

There are no king Charles one pound notes.

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“The Last Ever £1 Note Issued by the Bank of England

The green Somerset £1 note (known as the Series D) — was the ‘last of its kind’ £1 note to circulate in the UK. Somerset was the Chief Cashier at the Bank of England at that time, and hence the banknote bears his signature. It is one of the Pictorial Series, referred to as such because notes in this series featured pictorial representations of famous British figures. This note bears the image of Sir Isaac Newton on the reverse and is the very banknote ever to do so. The prism on the table beside Newton refers to his work, “The New Theory of Lights and Colours” (1672) and “Optics” (1704). On the obverse of the note is the portrait of Queen Elizabeth II alongside the image of the caduceus and a cornucopia. This imagery beautifully links the obverse design to the theme of science established by the image of Newton.”

“Design features on this banknote include:

  1. An apple blossom tree symbolising Newton’s discovery of gravity.
  2. A reflecting telescope which was one of Newton’s inventions.
  3. A copy of Newton’s famous works ‘Principia’.
  4. Machine-engraved patterns of swirling orbits suggesting the theory of universal gravitation.
  5. A triangular cross-section prism which Newton used to understand optics.
  6. A caduceus which is the staff of Hermes, the Greek god of trade and finance.
  7. A cornucopia which is a symbol of plentiful supply.
  8. A particular feature of this note was that it has only one serial number”

From Wikipedia

Hermes is an Olympian deity in ancient Greek religion and mythology considered the herald of the gods. He is also widely considered the protector of human heralds, travellers, thieves, merchants, and orators. He is able to move quickly and freely between the worlds of the mortal and the divine aided by his winged sandals. Hermes plays the role of the psychopomp or “soul guide”—a conductor of souls into the afterlife.

In myth, Hermes functions as the emissary and messenger of the gods and is often presented as the son of Zeus and Maia, the Pleiad. He is regarded as “the divine trickster” about which the Homeric Hymn to Hermes offers the most well-known account.

Hermes’ attributes and symbols include the herma, the rooster, the tortoise, satchel or pouch, talaria (winged sandals), and winged helmet or simple petasos, as well as the palm tree, goat, the number four, several kinds of fish, and incense. However, his main symbol is the caduceus, a winged staff intertwined with two snakes copulating and carvings of the other gods.

In Roman mythology and religion many of Hermes’ characteristics belong to Mercury, a name derived from the Latin merx, meaning “merchandise,” and the origin of the words “merchant” and “commerce.”

Southerly Dreamers – Human Resources Dream – 08-03-2024

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Here is last night’s dream to add to the sequence kicked off with the human puzzle dream

I am with C who I know is a southerly dreamer. She is now quite old as she would be in real life if still alive. We are in the second-floor administration “barn” of the Sherfield building. We are walking towards an exit onto a main road. I have in my hand an old Motorola ‘phone with a small aerial. It is in a protective jacket. I am filming as we go. On exiting the building security drive up with a yellow JCB. They pick C up with the prongs of the JCB fork and deposit her on the other side of some black painted iron railings. She falls to the ground and although flustered is largely unhurt.

I go back into the building looking for L who is also a southerly dreamer. I go upstairs to the top floor. She is holding some kind of IT class with an open inquiry desk. I ask her how I can get the footage off the ‘phone and onto a personal computer. She says that she thinks there is a drive in the back that she can connect. I suddenly remember that although the ‘phone is old it has rudimentary blue tooth.

I go to a personal computer and via blue tooth I download the file and play it back. It clearly shows someone directing security to use the JCB to threaten us. I save it to a flash drive.

As I am walking downstairs a woman from human resources intercepts me. She says that she knows that I have the file. I say that I am just going to check and then I’ll come show her. She says threateningly that it might be better for me to lose the file. I go back to the PC and check the file is still there. I then go to the human resources office.

The woman is not there. I can see on her computer screen in old fashioned green the command prompt c:\>. I type dir return. The screen shows a whole list of files in bright green with my name incorporated in the filenames. I know these are monitoring files which human resources have been building up so that they can threaten me with exposure should I in any way start to litigate. These files are partially hidden on their computers. I know that this relates to when I theoretically hinted about constructive dismissal way back. I find it bizarre and aggressive that they have kept such files for so long. Petty.

Dream ends.