Tag: MI6

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

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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.

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

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

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.

Apnoea – British Academics – Full Moon Dream Snippets – 12-07-2025

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Last night I was wearing the apparatus to measure the sleep-state with a view to investigating sleep apnoea. The wrist based device was held in place with some medical elastic gauze as was a pulse oximeter on my left index finger. I had a nasal cannula and two microphones stuck to my chest. It was a warm night. I consciously avoided doing any meditative practice whilst wearing the gizmo. I sometimes do this meditation if I wake up during the night and am a tad bored.

On and off during the night and whilst asleep I was consciously aware of the gizmo attached to my body, in particular the spring on the oximeter was clamping down on my finger. I had the vision of ET with his illuminated finger from time to time. The thought form, “ ’phone home, ‘phone home” amusingly popped into mind. A bit like a Rick Astley song.

I started to get strong visual images of various members of British Science Academia with whom I have had past interactions. None of these physical plane interactions were more recent than a decade. There were “chemists” from Imperial College London, Oxford University and Durham University. Some of the Oxford people were from way-way back pertaining to the molecular spectroscopy community I once interacted with in the last century. There were some from the van der Waals crowd.

Next, I was at some kind of camp in the woods with undergraduate students in wooden chalets. One of whom was very concerned about a patent she had in Germany. I gathered the students around all of whom had invested in her. I said we will call the European Patent Office in Munich the next morning. In the meantime I would take them out for a fire-pit and shamanic drumming in the woods. I picked up my shaman’s drum and we set off.

The scene returns to British Academia. There are now very senior figures only a few of whom I have ever met. I know of them vaguely. There are those in power, VCs and the like. Some are in the quantum area of expertise and there are some from the generation preceding me who must me in their 80s or thereabouts.

There is a sense of much toing and froing, of discussions behind the scene with some handwringing and indecisiveness. There is a sense of gossip and debate about what if anything to do.

The pace of the dream snippets and their interchange is hectic and breathless. It is far from rest full. I am aware during this sequence of the gizmo in my nose, on my finger and stuck to my chest.

I wake up around 6 AM for a loo break.

Back now in the dream and with the students. They are in the chalets with me and warning me that the academy does not like me doing drumming on courses for students and that my motives are very misinterpreted. My helping of the young woman with the patent is mis-construed as a sexual relationship because we appear too close, friendly and not distant enough. The students say that I am being judged. We gather together and start to call the patent office with the land line phone on speaker. I know that the call and the dream is being monitored by technical experts at MI6. They are highly technical and have methods of surveillance of which I am unaware.

In the dream I wonder how this whole shebang is going to be recorded on the medical device.

I wake up and the dream ends. I am keen to remove the micropore tape  holding the gizmo as quicky as possible.