Category: “Security” Themed

King Charles – Blaise Metreweli – Dream Snippet 17-12-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

This from around 6 AM on a night when I manged to stay in bed until 8AM!! Possibly my best night’s sleep since before the operation.

The dream starts in a palatial dressing room area. He is sat at what can be described as a dressing table. In front of him is an ornate “triptych” of mirrors. He is looking into the mirrors. The reflection in the mirror is of a younger Charles. The one sat on a posh stool is one the age he is now. The Charles in the mirror is saying “great, now I get to be king” he is excited and enthusiastic. The older Charles is thinking, “oh shit, bugger, I have actually got to be king!” He adjusts his cufflinks. He is pensive. He turns and stands up.

Later he is met by Camilla and she takes his elbow. Again he fidgets with his cufflink on his left shirtsleeve. Later on he is joined by William and Kate who are dressed up with blue sashes. It is evening and they all have a gig to go to.

The scene changes and it is another day. Charles is walking along a carpeted corridor with a tall woman who is Blaise Metreweli. From their interaction I can tell that they have met before and are increasingly on familiar grounds. She is giving him his weekly update. He jokes that when an M dies and new M is always born. They both find this mildly amusing. Charles likes to walk and talk and she is comfortable with this. The corridor has a tall window at one end and a carpet which is in a wide strip but which does not reach the walls. There is wooden floor between the carpet and the ornate walls. The carpet is of a reddish hue. They are both walking away from the low morning winter light from the window and casting a shadow in front of them. Charles is listening with full attention. You can almost hear him listening. It is a special skill of his. It is clear that the relationship between king and MI6 is not as simple as it might first seem. It is more nuanced and impactful.

The dream ends.

I wonder where did that come from. It has touched upon something other than the face value which I cannot as yet put into words.

Post Anaesthesia – Insomnia – UK Shenanigans – US Security Services Dream 02-12-2025

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Still struggling to get a decent night’s seep. I am on a protocol of Zopiclone and 500/30 paracetamol codeine before bed. I have long been aware that my per kilogram body mass ability to handle alcohol and cannabis was at the higher end of the spectrum. I can still function when others might not. The attempts to sleep might be hindered by a state of “vigilance” and I am building up a psychological conditioning in which I do not want to try to go to bed. This is not healthy. In the “pharmacy” there are a number of synthetic and non-synthetic “narcotics” which I might use. At the moment the dosage is minimal, a maximum of 60mg codeine a night. This sleeping is clearly the thing I want to ameliorate now.

The morning’s dreams are in two segments. The first I would characterise as very boring and very old hat. Yawn.

The scene opens in UK research council offices. People known to me from the late eighties, the nineties and early two thousands. The people are exclusively London and South East based are conspiring amongst themselves about me. They, whilst pretending to be my friends, are undermining me and otherwise plotting and whispering amongst themselves. They have a fear of being found out and exposed. They are stuck and badly so. At the time they thought that the plotting was clever even cunning. They are now less convinced of this and far less amused by it. They are worried. In the dream they imagine they can interact with me in the same way as they once did. They are arrogant and complacent. They have no idea of the extent to which I have changed. In the dream I am bored that the same old shit is again being presented. I know that what they may deem important is ultra petty and trivial to me.

I awake it is around 6 AM. I have a loo break going back to bed assuming that I will not sleep.

The wife and I are walking through an airport. We have already cleared customs and border check. It is a huge airport in America. {Query Denver} There are shops and food concessions on either side. The wife pops into a shop. I continue along the corridor and a tall woman in dark navy cop like uniform stops me. She has immaculately ironed grey trousers and a paramilitary shirt. She is armed and has her long black hair in a tight pony-tail. She addresses me by name, “Dr Taylor can we have a word with you in private?”

“Yes, what about my wife?”

“My colleague will look after her. You are not being detained, we would just like a word.”

She ushers us off through an identity pass on lanyard secure door and into what looks like a high technology operations room. She ushers me down the corridor into a glass walled cubicle / office. All the while she is chatting with me in an accomplished and highly skilled manner. She is a pleasure to be with. She has a mild west coast accent and is very high functioning. I can tell that they are taking multiple images of me and she asks if I would mind giving a blood sample. I have nothing to hide.

I say that she is not what she at first seems to be and is probably secret service. She agrees that she is. I ask her if I can have a look at my file. She says that she cannot think of a reason why not and pulls up a chair her side of the desk. She shows me image after image of me reaching back decades. There are some from Tokyo some from Santa Clara and even some from Brittany France. I comment that they have been busy. She says with some pride that this is what they do. I ask her if there is anything else she wants to know. No. She looks at my passport and identity card, scans them. She gives me another card which is of US origin. It is for me to use, if needed, during our stay. It is high end official. If in doubt just show this card.

She then ushers me back to the main terminal where the wife is waiting. The wife asks and I say that US secret service have just taken a blood sample and have had me under surveillance for a very long time.

The dream ends and I gingerly role over onto my back. It is a little after 7 AM.

Disruptive Technology – Legal Threat – Entrepreneurship Dream – 29-11-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream had between 6.36 and 7.39 AM. I had changed my pain killer regime to co-codamol and managed to have the first half-decent night’s sleep since the hip operation a week ago. This seems totally out of the blue.

The dream opens in a steeply banked auditorium of a high end spa type posh conference centre. The room is filled with people for an open panel discussion quasi “Chatham House”. The participants are multinational and largely men. There is a mix of suits, entrepreneurs and scientists. The average age  is significantly lower than me, 30-40s. The conference centre is perched on a river valley wall some height up from the river. It is European possibly Scottish, mountainous or hilly. I know that the fishing in the river for salmon is good. On the screen at the front of the hall is a projection with the headline “Disruptive Technologies” and the tag line “Threats and Opportunities”.

I am sat to the back of the auditorium high up near the fire exit on the right hand side when viewing the screen. To the bottom left near the from there is a gaggle of people known to each other. One of them is surveying the audience and taking notes of who is attending. He catches my eye and I his. He does not recognise me and he turns to an older colleague. He too looks at me and they have a brief discussion. The older man recognises me.

As the session finishes the audience files out from the bottom left. A dark haired man with well parted hair comes up towards me. He is wearing a very expensive English tailored overcoat in wool or cashmere. It has black lapels. He is carrying a small leather wallet style brief case. He offers me his card in a posh clipped English accent. It is a small high class card with raised embossed name Lamour or Lamor written upon. In much smaller font is “& associates” together with a central London address. He belongs to a high-end high-net worth client legal practice. I am surprised as to why he has approached me. He says that “we noted you in the audience”. He goes on to inquire as to why I am there, what I am doing and what projects I have in the pipeline. I say that I do not know why I am there and that I have nothing whatsoever going on. He goes on to say that “we” will resist anything you try to do and put obstacles in the way. There is a sense of “establishment” possible government behind him. The “We” is English. I ask him if he is threatening me. He says that it is up to me how I view this but I could choose to view this in that way should I choose.

A bit flummoxed by this I decide to try to find out what is going on. I leave the hotel and note a small incubator business office space perched upon a bridge over the river. I arrange a rent free loan of an office and go down under the bridge. I meet As. I say to him that I need to show him something. Under the bridge and among  the renovation is an old public urinal. I say to As that this is where my grandfather (Harry) told me that he had won the lottery. We go back to rental office. News has gotten around the incubator that I have “rented” office space. The incubator is affiliated to a local university. They ask if they can announce my arrival in their weekly magazine / gazette. I say that I would rather not be public and playing along with the context I say that I would prefer to be submarine for the time being. The facilities manager comes in. She says that they may experience some external pressure. I say that I have already noted an alternate supply of energy and water. I take her down to the under bridge toilet and say that I can tap water and electricity from there. I show her the urinal and say that this is where my grandfather told me he had won the lottery. Despite my asking I can see that my arrival has been leaked in the online gazette.

As is keen to get started and I say first we need a “Photonics Buyer’s Guide” and a  rundown of the latest VC photonics deals. We try to source these and place them on the shelves in the office. I decide to do a background search on the legal firm “Lamour” my guess is that there will be little available. It is a word of mouth kind of outfit.

I am back in an hotel room with the facilities manager and As. Our hotel is more like a hiking bunkhouse and we are all in sleeping bags on one “shelf”. The facilities manger comes over for a hug and then goes back to her bag. As does too and we hug bare chest to bare chest. He draws strength and comfort and says that whatever it is I need him to do he will do it. He is glad to have found me again. He goes back to his sleeping bag and the light in the room fades.

I think to myself that was weird. “Why would a bunch of posh suits be interested in what I am doing?”

The dream ends.

Footnote : the geezer in the overcoat has some similarity to Marc Rubio.

Nord Holland – Fürstenberg – Clones – Snatch Team – Dream – 12-11-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream. Like many others it comes out of the blue.

The dream opens with me looking at a map of Noord-Holland, with a bit of Friesland and Zwolle. In the dream I hear Nord Holland but the map has the entire area including the islands of to the north and the large inlet. It is a warm sunny day in a small village or town. I am following discreet tidy signs to the “Bahnhof” or train station. I don’t know why but the word looks out of context for the Dutch environment. I follow the signs into a very small quaint train station and board a tiny local train. I need to get to Fuhrstenberg or Fürstenberg. The train will take me into a much large nodal communication hub.

I am sat on a bench in the train and at the next large stop am joined by Anita and two Japanese men in black salary man suits. They have been to an academic conference nearby. There is a lot of technology and high tech industry in the area. She is pleased to see me and I her. We talk briefly about the conference she has been to and that I am travelling to Fürstenberg. I do not know the way yet but am sure that I can figure it out at the major Haupt-Bahnhof. I alight at the big station and they continue on to the airport.

When I arrive I get off at the train station concours. It is European. It is heaving with commuters at rush hour. I look at various schematic train line maps and am none the wiser. There is an information centre with computer terminals. The signage is in roman script  and Japanese. I stand at a computer terminal next to a Japanese man and show him how to change the language options. I enter Furstenberg in the search engine and it shows a simple two stage train journey to get there. I will have to make one change and wait there a little then I will get to my destination. It will be a few hours.

I go up to the ticket barriers and note just how very crowded they are. I have purchased the on-going tickets for my journey. I look up to the station clock and can see from the hands that I have some time to wait before departure. I decide to go into a cafeteria. I sit at an old-school sixties US diner table with my coffee and a newspaper. It has bum-sticker plastic chairs and a red Formica top. There is a metallic edge protector all around. I am joined by a man in a light blue sixties style “Mormon” suit with thin lapels. He is wearing winkle picker shoes. He also has a newspaper. We look up and catch each other’s gaze. He is like a young George Peppard with very blue piercing eyes. The eyes are startling. He has immaculate blonde hair. On his lapel I can see a pin badge with what looks like a Renault diamond motif and a vertical bar going through the diamond. {Post hoc query masonic?} It is at most one centimetre in size. Having caught eyes we return to our newspapers.

He then speaks. He reaches over and pins a similar badge to my lapel. He says that it is a tracker jammer and that it should buy us a little time. He gestures down to the watch on my right wrist. It is a metallic watch with a metallic strap, the type that I would never buy, very Del-boy. He asks where I got this. I say that it was a gift. He says that they are using it to track me. Now the signal has stopped they will arrive in person. I note an Indian looking woman on a nearby table is working with “George”.

A team of people come in the cafeteria door and head towards us. Among the team are two young men with albino like colouration who are twins. I think them to be clones. There is another one identical in the team. They are a snatch team. The twins come to try to grab hold of me. I grab the head of each in my arms in a headlock. I have one clone under each arm. I lift them up, raising my elbows so that I am holding them by their heads. I have their full weight in the crook  of my arms. I can feel their necks snap. “George” lets off a flash-bang distraction grenade and the Indian woman heads towards a fire door hotly pursued by the other clone. She manages to open the door and is followed through by the clone who she fights off. She jumps onto the back of a hood down old-style Mercedes convertible and is joined by the clone. They wrestle there as the car speeds off.

There is mayhem in the cafeteria. I stand in the open fire door and watch as there is a kerfuffle involving “George” and the snatch team. I take the wristwatch off and throw it into a bin.  

As I come to I think “Oh shit not yet another spy dream. That is what you get for watching the first episode of Killing Eve!”.

The dream ends.

Behind Closed Doors – Nile Perch – Brockwell Park Dream Snippets 29-10-2025

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Here are last night’s dream snippets some of them are at 90 mph…

The first part of the sequence begins in London. There are various meetings going on after hours and behind closed doors in which I am somehow the subject / object of the meeting. I am somehow seen as the “problem”. There is one among male UK academics roughly of my generation. I had acquaintance of these. There is one involving people who could be seen as the generation before me and a current university VC. Of these I had passing acquaintance of one female and longer of another male, they are near end of life. The VC is only a bit older than me. There is one meeting which is part virtual with people in the USA. I have never personally met the protagonists. This has a political / intelligence flavour. There is one meeting which is distinctly Tibetan and not London based. The scenes flash by at “90 mph”. In the dream I want to say that they have done nothing which is strictly speaking illegal nor overly dodgy in the view of current normal practices and behaviour. Therefore from my point of view there is nothing to discuss, nor do they have anything which needs attention. They do not need to do anything at all.

The scene now changes to Africa. We are at a camp site near an inland lake or reservoir. We are packing up to catch the plane home. In my pocket I have a small fishing lure, a spinner, a spinning spoon around a “pole” with a tri-pronged hook. It has a small purple feather. Before we leave I would like to try to catch a “bream” or Nile perch. The man I am with draws off some line from a rod reel combination. The line is very thick and strong. I need to tie the lure on with a leader. I try time and again to attach a leader to the line. Each time I do so and give a good tug the leader comes away from the main line. I think, “clearly I am not supposed to do this”. I give up my efforts and help load the safari Land Rovers to leave.

The scene changes to Brockwell Park in Brixton a place where I frequented a lot. It has a lot of stored memories and previously emotive things for me. It was very much a part of my former London life. I am with the wife and some kind of assistant / facilitator. His job is to look after me and my wants. I show him the ponds and explain that the local schools do biology lessons therefrom. I then show him one of the large old style Brixton converted “mansions”. I say that I want to explore to see if there is any draw. To see if it reminds me of my old flat. We break in through the ground floor back door and head out of the front door. The hallway is spacious and there is no damage we easily unlock the doors. I want to head up hill to show him where I used to live. As we go uphill I see a huge building project. A whole terrace has been demolished for a park side new build. It does not look good. Further up the hill another terrace has been removed by the diggers. They have yet to uproot the very old very large trees. They will need to dig deep to make good foundations. I cannot find the building in which my old flat was. I nip into one of the new build shells and hide from the builders to take a piss in a tiny pink WC. I finish and as I leave one of the builders shouts “oi”. I say that I used to live here and was bursting for a leak. He waves me on.

As I come to I note there is no point searching for the past because it no longer exists. I note that as we were non binary about France or England the future may lie elsewhere. I also note that the reason we love this house is the garden and nature, which I may rekindle after my operation(s). I am not seeing clearly.

The dreaming sequence ends…

Retired General – Subjective – Boris Johnson Dream 24-10-2025

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This dream had between 06:20 and 08:45 this morning. This out of the blue and then again perhaps not.

The dream opens in some kind of exhibition or fayre. It has a new age vibe to it and is in a large hall with high ceilings. It has an orangery feel, light and spacious. It feels close to Westminster central London, Thames. I have a small exhibit table upon which I am laying out some information. One of the posters has a background colour and design which exactly matches the table. The words therefore appear written on the table.

Along the mezzanine gallery, where I am, I spot a man a little older than me. He is wearing a windowpane light brown lined posh country hunting shirt and dark brown corduroy trousers. He is slightly balding and has allowed his hair to grow slightly. He has a mild ruddy complexion and looks completely out of place. On his table he has some maps. I know that he is military or ex-military. I go over to inquire as to why he is at this event.

As I approach it is clear that he has some prior knowledge about me, perhaps has been briefed. I ask him what he is interested in. He says subjective contact. I have a knowing that he is/was a general {perhaps major-general}.  I say that I have had subjective contact and that I am perhaps less flaky than others who might make such a claim. He imagines that I am an accidental receiver. He does not understand. He asks how I got into these things. I explain that Peter had a hand. He says without prompting that he knows Peter from the commandos and that Peter had a hand in his interest too. I ask him if he is fully retired. He says that generals never fully retire and that they continue to help out where they can. I say that he has deniability because he is no longer directly affiliated. He nods. I add that at any time he could be denied and any claimed association disproved. He is not official. He nods. I suggest that he has been sent here specifically to talk with me. He neither nods nor does not. There is a kind of acknowledgment. He is on a loose one from military intelligence (MI).

The scene changes and I am now sat in the audience of a talk at the event with Boris Johnson. We are enjoying each other’s company and he is being his public jocular buffoonery self. As suspected he is fun to talk with. But I can feel a hard driven purposeful edge behind the guise of his clowning. He too can talk freely because he is no longer implicitly associated with government. I tease him that his father paid for his accent and that now he is bored he could always become an evangelical preacher something his has the gift for. He then mimics Ian Paisley in a manner that has us both and Carrie in stitches. He has a gift for comedy.

The whole thing is frightfully, frightfully English.

On waking I think that it is odd that MI is again in my dreams. I am not surprised that there might be an interest.

The dream ends.

The Shit Hits the Fan Dream 17-20-2025

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I could not think of a better title for this. This dream was hectic swirling and as such some of the detail {believe it or not} is scant of recall. Yet the feeling of something breaking through from the dreaming and under some kind of “pressure” so to do is strong. The feeling is of “out of my hands” and “beyond my control”. In the dream I am unconcerned by the “nascent” chaos, I am calm in the storm.

The dream opens on a large rural property in France. It is our property but not the current one. In the corner of the property by the gate and the house I note first a ship container like builders’ office. There are JCBs and assorted land moving machines. A canteen. There are piles of building materials like gravel and hardcore. There are bricks and beams. They do not have my permission to be there.

I go over to the cabin and demand to see the site manager. I ask him what the fuck he is doing there, what the fuck are they doing? He says that we thought you would like it. We are doing it for you.

I explain to him that he could not be more thoroughly mistaken. It is not what I want. It is not what I desire. They do not have my permission and that to try to imagine what I want is sheer fucking idiocy. I say that unless they start packing up soon, I will come back with my shotgun. Under no circumstance is their imagined plan a good idea nor what I want. It is a fucking mess.

I go off to the house and come back with an SLR camera and start taking photos of people and kit, collecting evidence. The site “manager” is on the ‘phone to his boss who subsequently turns up. He says that we thought you would like it and that the plans are too late to stop. I say to him that stop they will, or I will make an inordinate hoo-hah and a scene the likes of which they have never seen before. I am already transmitting images to the press and the mayor’s office. They send JCBs etc. to threaten the mayor’s office but I have forewarned the press and the local community who are waiting for them. The whole situation is escalating beyond their control. I have leaked the financial accounts from the building group and its parent company and searches into their propriety are under way. I say that I warned them not to do things without asking me thinking that it is “what I would want”. Thinking that they know what I would want. Thinking that I would accept it and be pleased. I say to them that they have no fucking idea and that this mess is just the beginning. The mess, the shit has started hitting the fan big time.

{Implicit is again and the language use is as recalled from the dream}.

The scene changes and I am arriving at a Cotswold stone library with stained glass arched church like windows. Outside the library are a several reporters with cameras and microphones. They have heard that I am coming and are waiting to ambush me. I walk through the crowd, and several people push microphones in front of me. I say that I will organise a more civilised conference and not a scrum. I’ll set up in the town hall so please to be patient.

Later in the town market hall there is a press conference. It turns out the reporters have been investigating every aspect of my life from my schooling, where I went to university and which universities I have taught at. They have been doing a deep dive investigation into my life. The implications for the institutions have been big. I don’t care overmuch because I have nothing to hide. The search has also been security service themed. They too have been doing a deep dive look. The institutions are in “trouble” from a PR perspective because they have been trying to clamp down and keep secret / quiet which has only encouraged a wider and deeper interest. “What are they trying to hide?” being a journalistic motivator. British academia in particular is under scrutiny. The journalists start by asking me about mundane aspects of my current life. The whole thing is chaotic and out of control. I am completely unfazed, the snowball effect has started.

The scene changes to a European possibly Swiss university. It becomes clear that this is in fact Bern. My former supervisor is putting on a laser and light festival for the town at Christmas. I warn him via his secretary about the ongoing investigation. He is unperturbed and asks if I would like to help him with the light show. I say it is a good idea; I would like to but probably best for the event if I stay away.

As I am coming to, I am slightly tired because of the hectic nature of the dream and unsurprised at the theme of other people thinking that they know what is best for me and what it is that I want. When as is always they case they have no fucking idea. The feeling is that something has now been started which must simply unfold. Chaos may be on the wind.

I wake up thinking along the lines of same shit different day.