27th Jan 2003:

I am sitting in the backseat of a car that is travelling along George Street in Edinburgh. The cars speed is excessive although no one in the car seems to mind. In the distance I can see a black van reversing out of a drive. The crash is inevitable and I brace for impact. I now find myself standing on the deserted road beside the black van.

I walk across the road and climb the wall on the other side. I find the football I was looking for and decide to take it back to the crash scene. However, when I attempt to get back down the height of the wall has increased and it is now three times as high as before. I dangle my legs over the edge when a man passing comments: “You’re not going to jump are you? – You could hurt yourself.” I jump nevertheless and land safely on the ground (I have already forgotten about the football). However, the impact has split my personality into two. The other ‘me’ looks at the man and asks: “Where is the School?” The man points and I run off into the distance. I however walk toward the school.<!–more–>

As I enter the school Mr Mc is leaving. I speak to him briefly. I notice that he is in fact blind as he continues to speak to the wall for a number of seconds after I have left him. A man that I vaguely recognise puts his arm around me and we walk toward the reception area.

I find I have volunteered to teach digital art and website design to a class of 10 year olds. I sign in at the reception and walk toward my class.

On the way I am distracted by what seems to be the teachers lounge area. There is a pool table in the centre of the room. The game is however not conventional and the pockets are covered by bridge like contraptions that are far too difficult to describe here.

28th Jan 2003:

I am part of a team of interviewers for an unknown magazine that appears to be travel related. One of my colleagues was Mr M and I find myself talking to him in a hotel room. I look out of the window and the hotel appears to be situated in Iraq. I am also aware that President Bush is also a guest at the hotel. I am now in the dining area.

I look out onto the balcony and President Bush is standing taunting the Iraqi people with hand gestures. The Iraqi people are shouting back at him – all of which is reminiscent of a scene from Monty Python’s Life of Brian. Today we have to travel by plane back to the UK although there is a dilemma. If I travel on the plane with President Bush there is a possibility that it will be destroyed in mid-flight. My mother looks at me and suggests we all extend our holiday and travel to Malta instead as this would be a safer option. The dream fades before the decision is made.

Jan 29 2003:

I am helping a woman with an assignment or a job application on a computer when I leave and walk into an underground tunnel. I find a credit card, which I hand to an unknown man. The man is the greatest hide and seek champion of all time. He thanks me and asks me how tall Mr X is. I am unsure but before I answer he strikes a dwarf with a golf club until he is over 6 feet tall. The ex-dwarf thanks him and leaves.

Jan 30 2003 :

I find myself in a hotel room with a girl that I do not know. We are under siege and have therefore barricaded ourselves in the room. Someone is drilling through the keyhole. I walk over to the door and find that it is Mr D. I wait for him to finish and notice I have a gun in my hand. I point the gun in his direction but I do not pull the trigger. I watch him as he picks up a massive machine gun that should be too heavy to carry. I tell the girl to pack her belongings as I tie two white sheets together and throw them out of the window.

31st Jan 2003:

I am walking down Cowdenbeath High Street carrying a green photo album. I walk into a travel agents with my Father and we stand in a massive queue. Although it is clear that it is a travel agents it is more reminiscent of a trading floor. I am now in an art gallery.

I watch as a man smashes sculptures and glass cabinets with a loaf of bread. At the same time someone starts a fight with me and I find myself scrapping on the floor with him. I am unsure if I won the fight or not but my attention is drawn to a cabinet which contains manuscripts or magazines. I smash the cabinet and steal some of the documents. I then leave the gallery.

A while later I feel guilty and return to the gallery with a black suitcase which contains the stolen documents. I walk up to the security guard who is wearing a red lubricated glove and is preparing to give me a cavity search. I quickly open the briefcase and hand him the documents. As he browses the documents I tell him a fabricated story about how they came into my possession. I had been running past the gallery when I discovered them hidden in a bush – I then decided to hand them in. I suddenly become aware that I will be unable to back up my story.

Dreaming Location: Fife