>>470847

We're all wronguns.

Had another dream about my late mum last night. It's not really nice waking up after that. She had dementia at the end, and so my dreams often revolve around her doing another daft thing and me sighing with exasperation, like I often did while I was looking after her.

Be there for your parents. Spend time with them. Make their life a bit more enjoyable. You never know when they will be gone. And then all the remorse will start, because no matter how much you lived by that, you'll still feel like you didn't do enough. And every harsh word you ever said to them comes back to haunt you in retrospect.

A very pretty black lass was apparently my girlfriend, and I was sleeping on the sofa at her nan's house. She came in to check on me during the night and asked if I wanted to go to bed with her but I declined because it's her nan's house. I asked her what time it was, and she said it was 3:15, and I said oh good, I thought it was far later than that. I then realised what was happening and woke up to check the time because it was, indeed, five minutes until my alarm.

Dream harlots trying to make you late for work, lads. Don't believe their lies.

Hang on why have two of us been dreaming about black lasses recently? Are we race fetishists now?

>>470864

Are you two also the fatty chasers?

>>470871

Certainly not.

The one in my dream was petit and slim. I think she was based on an old work colleague's sister (who I worked with... So just a colleague, but I always saw her as "Otherlass's Sister" first, if you know what I mean) who I got along with very well, because out of the four 20 something girls I found myself having to train at one point, she was the only one who wasn't a fucking boring "like ohmygaaawd" type of cunt.

>>470864
Now?

I went into a nightclub in a large dilapidated building in the middle of nowhere. I had to go up metal stairs outside to enter on the first floor. It turned out to be a "rape shop", where you order people to rape and sexually abuse.

I was disgusted by this concept, I ordered a skinny woman and a large butcher's knife to torture her with, and for the man who brought her up to rape her too but to not kill her. He said "no promises there mate". My plan was not to rape, but to kill the rapeman when he was raping the woman, then I free the woman and kill the other workers.

As I was waiting I noticed lots of hen do's and office parties in the nightclub. One woman looked like she worked in HR, and she had a bouquet of flowers and a naked man on a chain leash. In another room, a brown had his feet on a table while three naked leashed white girls kissed his feet.

It was taking a long time for the raped girl I was going to save to arrive, and I was getting anxious from the crowds. My jaw really hurt because I was clenching it so hard. After a while I had an anxiety attack and left.

I had an anxiety nightmare last night where I'd managed accidentally to shave my moustache into a Hitler 'tache, but not even like a big full one, it was all thin and whispy.

>>471209
You drempt you were a visage of Hitler? That's gotta mean something mate what's going on in your mind?

>>471209

>where I'd managed accidentally to shave my moustache into a Hitler 'tache

Maybe it was really a Charlie Chaplin 'tache.

The so-called toothbrush moustache was actually quite fashionable and widespread from about 1900 to the 1930s, without negative connotations. It only really fell out of favour after Hitler adopted it, having worn a Kaiser moustache previously, as evidenced by photos of him from WWI.

>>471221
I'm not a big believer in the idea that dreams have some kind of hidden meaning to them (because it's made up Fraudian nonsense), so I think it's just the oft felt concern I have about slipping up and ruining my moustache. I have some big events coming too up so if I ruin it now, the whole thing's got to go. There simply isn't the time to regrow it.

>>471222
Oh, I'm well aware. I saw pic related just the other day.

>>471223

>Fraudian nonsense

Fraudian slip?

>>471224
Sadly not, I instead spent so long trying to get that photo around the "please only upload one image at a time" bug that I never bothered to proof read my post.

How do you two see precognitive dreams?

I'm asking because something unsettling happened last night, as I had a very vivid dream about a good friend dying in an accident.

A few years ago, I had a similar dream about an ex's brother dying. I remembered very distinctly from my dream the procession from the chapel to the grave with the coffin, and then two or three years later when he did die very unexpectedly and I attended the funeral, it was downright disturbing how much the real thing was like my dream.

I don't expect my friend to die at any point now, but that dream last night was on my mind the whole day.

>>471476

The only thing that's telling of is that you are worried about it. I am definitely part of the "dreams have meaning" camp, because dreams are in effect just the nightly defrag and refresh process of the sophisticated LLM neural network you call consciousness. But unless you have outstanding predictive abilities on a subconscious level, I think it's unlikely for that to overlap significantly with future events.

>>471476
Once you realise you're living what you predicted, you have to change the events. So one time I dreamed about walking down a certain street at a certain time of day with certain weather and ambience, and months later I was in that exact shot, so I punched a wall because I didn't do that in my dream, and then the nuclear bombs didn't drop. Or turn off TV like one dream I was watching Junior Bake Off when the bombs dropped so now I turn over whenever Junior Bake Off is on.

There is a shadow, it wears a hat. Could be Carmen Santiago, Harry Copperfield, or anyone. Except the shadow is the person, who observes. Sometimes it takes the form of a long haired crying thing. It's not there, but I see it.

Those are nightmares. Hat or hair, always, always.

>>471496

You might be ska-badabadabadoo-belidabbelydabbladabbladabblabab-belibabbelibabbelibabbelabbelo-doobelidoo reassured to hear that the hatman is a pretty common hallucination from sleep deprivation and also deliriant abuse.

I've got some theories about sleep paralysis. I have pretty frequent abnormal/semi lucid dream states that I think are quite strongly linked to it. I don't think I can be bothered typing it up unless one of you is particularly interested though.

>>471500
I'll hear what you got to say. Give it a go at breakfast tomorrow.

>>471497
I know. It's a strange one where if you tell people they either nod and also know, or they look at you like a wrongun. "Have you met the hat man?", and most people laugh. The shadow person who does not exist but you can see them.

Between this "hat man" and the suggestion that precognition is real I'm starting to suspect some of you lot are "touched", as they used to say.

There was a time artifact a small pot which when destored would send the destroyer back to the time and place of the last time it had been destroyed and interupted that process, this was intially used by a person who was stealing it from a forbiden artifacts warehose (think the place at the end of raiders of the lost ark) to evade capture, but ended up being used one too many times (as the artifact would send people further back (as it corrected for previous times it had been destroyed) and sent them back to the middle ages where they encoutered someone who was actually from the far future who was stuck there and had built themselves a hidden refuge, they expained not only did the artififact send people back in time it also made them effectively temoprarily immortal as the universe naturally desired to put them back in the orginal place they belonged in the time before they continued advancing as normal, so they were just staying out of histories way and observing.

the protagonist contiued to destroy to use the device untile it sent them back to the brozen age and the orginal creator and it turned out the devices imortality wasn't an accident as the orgianl creator was a sadist who wanted people to be immortal so that they could tourture them indefinately.

I think I was Sonic, or possibly one of the Transformers (it wasn't very consistent). The bad guy was very proud of himself that he had sent some sort of robo-shark baddie after me in a swimming level. But that part was quite promptly forgotten about. He was following after me to gloat and block doorways, but I was apparently not following the script, so instead I grabbed him by the throat and pinned him down to call him a fanny and threaten to punch his teeth in in a voice very similar to Teeside Tintin (that's not at all how I speak but apparently it's how Sonic speaks). I then had to fight a climactic boss battle against a load of evil Transformers.

I had a dream that I was in the bathroom having a poo, and then it just wouldn't stop, I would wipe and flush and then just even more came out of me. And not as diarrhea, but quite solid, to where the sheer combined length was just improbable to fit inside a person's gut. This repeated several times until it seemed I was done.

>>471501

I may remember by the weekend.

Matt Groening was murdered by a Simpsons super fan in France. I was sent to a corner shop in Ireland, which had bars on the doors and windows, to investigate.

Went on the piss with Rosie Jones. We ended up aggressively snogging in McDonalds. It was unnecessarily wet.

>>471792

Probably took a tediously long time to even get to that point.

>>471803

She was delightful company, but I was quite hurt by the fact that she was obviously toying with my feelings. Not hurt enough to stop snogging her, mind.

I had a dream about my old flat again, which I moved out of at the end of 2023.

In my dream, I was in the process of moving out and getting things to my new place, but I had overstayed the agreed upon final move-out day by a few days, and so I came to the building where my flat was located and it turned out the landlord had moved all my remaining stuff out of my flat and onto the pavement in front of the building. And then some neighbourhood children came and started nicking some of my stuff, so I had to shoo them off and told them I'd tell their parents. I then went upstairs to see if there was any of my stuff still left inside the flat, but I could see that somebody else had already moved in, and they looked at me from their bed in consternation and said, "What's going on?"

What's really interesting is that I've had dreams like that one repeatedly recently. And they have largely replaced the dreams I used to have about moving out of student housing.

Went on holiday to the South of France with Roger off of Skill Builder. We fell in love and bought a château together. He was very tender, when he wasn't griping about shoddy pointing.

I was working with disabled kids, and went to go visit a client at a weight loss camp. He was a fat black kid kind of like Harvey Price. I went in the fat camp and went up and gave him a hug because he'd lost so much weight. Then everyone around me (all black people) looked shocked. A voice came from the other side of the room. It was my client who had also lost a lot of weight. I had hugged the wrong guy because I confused two black people with each other. I tried to play it off as facial blindness, I was embarrassed. I woke up.

I was walking through a shitty part of my home town and a bunch of shitty kids started doing what they do when they know they're untouchable because they're kids, then their mum (who looked about 20) joined in.

I had a dream that I was opening my own men's shirt shop, and it was called Shirt Happens. And I thought that was a massively clever idea.

I bought a blue steel revolver and was fucking about with it in my bedroom, then my wife came home so I tried to hide it. She saw me acting suspicious and I said "don't be mad, I won't use it, the safety is on, I removed the cylinder so it's not dangerous, it's just a hobby". She was mad then the door rang and our cat had escaped so we then used lots of 50ft long cable ties to build a make shift cage around the window so the cat can't get out again.

It was my normal daily life but I owned a big old 1970s American car. I don't know exactly what type, some kind of Mustang or Impala type of thing. I was greatly concerned about the tyres gradually going flat.

I had a dream that somebody had murdered a person and encased their body in a slab of concrete in my front garden while I was not at home. When I then got home, they thanked me for letting them use my property to get rid of the body. The rain was then starting to wash away the dirt on top of the concrete, and I was getting worried that some of my neighbours might spot it and think I had murdered someone.

I keep having dreams about people getting murdered. Maybe I should mention it at my therapist next time.

I was somewhere in the countryside doing some kind of work or family do, but I snuck away and slipped through the window of a girl from work and we had sex, it was pretty nice.

I had a dream where all my nose hairs were five centimetres long, and I pulled them out one by one and admired them with great pride.

>>472253
That's like, my actual life.

I was getting ready to check in for my flight home from Crete. First, they complained that I didn't have my flight ticket with me printed out, I told them I had it on my phone, but the lad behind the counter said it was no good, they wanted it on paper. He then said they could also just go by my passport to check me in, so I said, no problem, it's right here in my bag. But then when I opened it, there were a handful of other people's passports in my bag, but not my actual one. I was then frantically looking for mine but couldn't find it. So the guy said, "No passport, no check in". I was then pleading with him and his coworkers that I really needed to catch my flight home, but they were adamant that they couldn't let me through. They then closed the counter and one of them pointed at a plane taking off and said, "Look, there goes your plane now".

I guess always make sure you have your stuff in order when you are checking in.

I was on the train when it slowed down near my parents' house and I saw that the fishing ponds nearby had been turned into a kind of wildlife sanctuary with lots of allotments. The train stopped and I saw a shoebill bite a woman's head off, which was kind of horrific. I was absolutely certain that my dad had something to do with this, and sure enough I found out that he was lying low in Kazakhstan, so I went to visit him. He was living in this really nice futuristic house in the middle of a rolling snow-covered plain under an absolutely gigantic mountain. I decided that it was so nice that I should just stay there and forget about him using a bird to murder a woman. The end.

Some sort of purple alien that was mostly mouth and eyes in an overcoat and trilby, with a retinue of smaller, pug-like pet aliens, was outside my... house? Shop? More like a reception area-cum-airport security check-in type thing. Anyway the rules were, and I told him repeatedly "You can come in, but your pets can't, because we can't guarantee they're a safe lifeform and not some sort of bioweapon". But he ignored me like "What are you going to do about it?" and refused to make his pug-alien thing back up over the threshold. The pug-alien thing may have revealed itself to be a swarm of alien attack hornets or some sort of cloud of dangerous microbes I'm not sure because at the same point the building security system vapourised him and his pets.

I took off my shoes at a house party and I had huge, gnarled, toenails. They looked pretty clean at least.

My left testicle fell off, the surrounding ball sack with it too. All I can really recall is discomfort and trying to explain it on the phone to 999 and arguing with them over whether it warranted an ambulance.

There was a large, hard abscess on my breast which, upon appling preassure to, spat out chunks of yellow matter like an automatic machinegun. I am become Nurgling.

>>472448
You enjoyed tucking, then?

Last night, I dreamt I went to Latvia rejected opening line for Rebecca right there. I have never been to Latvia, and I have no idea what it's like, but in the dream it looked a lot like western continental Europe. It was a beautiful dream; I made lots of friends and we went around doing boring stuff, because my dreams are often very boring. We went in various corner shops, and they sold big salamis called Jack Off. I thought this was a bit funny, but my subconscious really outdid itself on the comedy when I found that you could also buy the offcuts of the meat that didn't make it into the Jack Off company's salamis, and those loose offcuts were called "Jack Offal".

I also managed some lucid dreaming, which I don't think I've ever done before. My dream lady friend and I went to get a train, and at the top of a huge flight of stairs in the station (imagine the steps in Reading station if you've ever been there, but about twice as high, with bluer, more artificial light), I noticed that the train was going somewhere that I knew to be in Western Europe. So I must be dreaming! Imagine believing that the terminus of "Stef Artois shire" wasn't in Belgium! So I thought I'd try my luck, and ask my lady friend if she wanted to fly to the bottom of the steps, as a test. We were holding hands, and with a run and a jump, we floated magically to the bottom. It was still a bit of a painful landing, because we floated either side of a lamppost and crashed and fell.

From a quick look at Google Street View, Latvia does actually look more or less how I dreamt it would. The buildings were taller in my dream, but I have just picked a random street in central Riga so there might be more built-up areas.

>>47247
Latvia is basically one big, dark, interminable pine forest, and Riga looks like a cross between Glasgow and Copenhagen (but with less fancy hipsters and more stag parties) if that makes any sense to you. I like the place very much.

I had another of those dreams that ends with a buildup and erruption of music, this time a cascade of chiming bells as a rogue state enforcer beat me to a pulp, while telling me the specific formula of drug being forcibly produced within and harvested from the remains of my body. This was all after a long drawn out sequence of flight through abandoned houses and trainyards trying to escape a killteam lead by Donald Trump (sent by Joe Biden, god knows).
I also met this woman pictured during my attempt at escape. She was baking homemade jam poptarts and wept as I accidently revealed her location to the persuing authorities.

The rest of the night was unremarkable.