Shaggy & shaggier dog stories

I have started a book that had been standing on a shelf for too long. I mean I finally started it from the beginning, as pages 103-104, 146-147 and 148-149 were the only I had read so far. Now all I miss is Tippler's, Zoe's and Daphne's autograph on those very pages. Mind you, I have two copies, and I expect a different dedication in each Shaggy Blog Stories, am I asking too much?

Although these stories are highly entertaining, the reading made me fall asleep, as usual. Don't ask me what I dreamed about, I simply don't remember any dreams lately. I don't get enough sleep and getting up in the mornings to go to work is rather painful.

But Goth didn't ask about my 'normal' dreams but what my strange dreams are made of. Like in anybody else's, sex, pursuits and very odd things are involved.

Shaggier dog stories

I often had nightmares when I was little. I had this recurrent dream of a man with an axe, in our neighbourhood in Forest, chasing me and my brother and sisters in the streets. When said man would catch one of them, I would stand totally helpless, covering my ears with my hands not to hear the cries and yelling. It was horrible and I was relieved to wake up, seeing them sleeping in the same bedroom, safe and sound.

I once woke up with my arms pointing to the ceiling. I was simply dreaming of the class gathering in the school yard. Discipline was tough in those years, teachers used to make us stand in lines, stretch our arms forward to reach the shoulders of the pupil standing in front of us and then we would march in perfectly formed ranks into the classroom.

The weirdest thing during those schooldays was this recurrent dream where I was seeing myself going to the loo, and thinking I had actually arrived therein, I would simply wet my bed. Totally shameful, needless to say my sisters hated me for waking them up to clean my mess.

After all, that might not have been the weirdest of all in those days. I dreamt about a blonde Spaniard classmate standing on an ice field, wearing a bikini, with a huge colourful butterfly on her nose. I can’t remember what exactly she was telling me but I haven’t forgotten that strange dream and I still can’t explain its meaning. Besides, I don’t think anybody could, if only dreams have a meaning, that is.

Being an adult, I dreamt about merciless Spartan warriors chasing me and other unknown people. I was running and hiding and could feel the fear for my life so much that I woke up in a cold sweat... just like when having intense and unfinished passionate dreams involving sex.

I used to live in my village in Greece and got to attend many funerals. The coffins remain open until they reach the grave. Yes, they do. And no, it doesn’t scare me to touch a cold body. One night, I saw my ex-husband laying in a coffin, wearing his wedding suit, looking pretty dead. As I approached, he started talking to me. That scene was quite a shock and I woke up right after his unexpected move. I couldn’t help telling him about my dream the following morning. Very bad idea actually, yet another fight started... I just can’t live my dreams and shut up, can I?

These strange dreams are engraved in my memory, like the few involving my deceased mother. I’ve only seen her in four or five dreams since 1980. Despite being woken up by the emotion I felt when it happened, being aware I am dreaming of her and that it hardly ever happens, I always managed to make my lovely dream continue. I sure hope I can have that lucid dream again.

"One of the most adventurous things left us is to go to bed. For no one can lay a hand on our dreams." - E. V. Lucas