Dream Vivid

Vivid dream after a night of insomnia.  Got up at at 11:30 and read until quarter to two.  Don't like to admit it for I do believe our thoughts contribute to reality and I don't want to contribute my fear to the fear of the world.  Still, with the aftershocks to the aftershocks in Japan and the deteriorating situation in the Middle East the small traitorous voice of fear in the 2012 End of the World scenario rat scratches  in my skull.  Nostradamous, Red Indian predictions.  Even the astrological slant with the beginning of a new more holistic age breathes anxiety.  What would I do?  Would I be brave, honourable, unselfish?  Because I can't answer that question I will describe this dream:

I am at Wilma's house somewhere in Brisbane.  She shows me the dim mustard walled rooms with kelly green patterned carpet.  See how we've knocked this wall out and moved the bed over there against the opposite wall.  Yes, it's an improvement, I say.  In truth the house is depressing.  It seems cheap and loveless and very dark.  Here is Roy, he is falsely friendly, trying hard although it is not in him and social niceties are a trial.  For me too.  His face is too close to mine and it is lined with age and weight loss.  There are three horsemen, two men and a woman.  One of the men and the woman have had a fight.  She is crying as she wheels away with the men in hot pursuit.  I was supposed to follow them home on my bicycle but they are soon out of sight.  Why Wilma isn't riding isn't explained although we have all met at her house.  I say my good-byes and make my way west.  I hope.  It is a part of Brisbane I am unfamiliar with.  We are near the sea.  It is the middle of the night and I am in the columned walkway of a shopping mall.  The people of the night wander in the fluorescent light.  I don't feel particularly worried.  A young man, crippled with some spinal dysfunction follows me.  He has one arm twisted up and behind his head.  It bends his head forward and to the side.  After he follows me for awhile I confront him.  I smack him with my hand and ask why he follows me?  I am harmless, he says.  But he has nicked my watch.  He's a pickpocket.  I am amazed that he could undo it from my wrist and palm it without me feeling anything.  But I grab it back.  Beneath it is another watch.  Surrounding the dial are pink flowers with green leaves picked out in plastic.  Somehow I end up with that watch.  I am looking for a shop to buy food or cigarettes or information.  I don't know my way home.  I hide my bike in an alley and climb two sets of stairs to a lighted room.  When I return my bike has been stolen.  I'll have to walk now.  (In an addendum to the dream I know that my bike has been found although it almost unrecognisable with new handlebars and paint job.  How they found it is beyond me.  I didn't report it stolen).

I still don't know my way home, what direction I should take.  I can't find a major road leading west.  They all seem to run parallel to the coast.  Or if I see a road I can't get to it because it is on the other side of wide water filled canals.  I wander along and meet a young man with black hair and an elfin manner.  He doesn't speak English but leads me to a tea room manned by Buddhist monks.  He waves me inside and disappears.  An old monk tells me to sit down and shoves me into a seat with his hands on my shoulders.  I realise he means me no harm it is just his way.  Another monk, a waiter monk, brings me tea.  I wait for the young man to join me but he doesn't return.  I leave. 

The dream becomes more disjointed now.  I can't call Richard to pick me up as my phone is in the car.  Part of me doesn't want to call him anyway.  I haven't been on an adventure for a long time and I think I'll walk until I get to the boring highway and then I'll call him to come get me.  In the meantime I am in the city in the middle of the night and it's fun to be alone again with no one knowing where I am or what I'm doing (similar to how I often felt when I was traveling in my twenties).  I am in suburbia but it is a wealthy suburbia.  I make my way through peoples houses.  There is evidence of a party in one, people sleeping just anywhere.  A woman in a bikini slumbers on a chaise lounge.  I walk through the house and come out the other side.  There is a deep lagoon surrounded by docks.   I lower myself into the water and swim to the other side.  I glimpse another road, again travelling parallel to the coast but figure it must eventually lead to another road heading west.  The water is crystal clear and green.  The sky is starting to lighten.  The sun will be up soon and I'm no closer to getting home than before.  No dogs bark.  The world seems unaware of my presence.  I wonder why these people don't secure their houses after dark.  If I can get in anyone can.  I have no wish to harm them or steal their belongings yet I am an intruder.  The nocturnal trek is very vivid.  Houses and wasteland, water and sand dunes, children's toys and damp towels, dim light and silhouettes.