June 2012

I was at my grandmother's house. We had an ukrainian servant, he was an ilegal immigrant.
...

At some point there was a knock on the door. Me and my grandmother opened. There was a large man wearing a cream raincoat, he looked like Dolph Lundgren. He was a russian agent accompanied by two smaller guys wearing darker raincoats. He was looking for an escaped ukrainian man. I tried to avoid looking in the direction our servant was hiding so to disguise my nervousness. The main agent looked at me with a grim smile as I told him I wasn't aware of any escaped ukrainian man. Obviously he knew I was lying. He was also aware I didn't invite him to enter, so it was a tense situation.
At some point he passed some object to my hand. I didn't dare looking at it, I instinctively knew it was some dreadful object. He then left and I woke up with a feeling of terror.
... .  .   .

I felt relieved it was a dream.
It was funny that Dolph Lundgren was there.

April 17, 2012

I was Ralph Fiennes and was helping Matt Damon pushing two huge car pieces up some hill by the sea. Me and Matt were the protagonists of The Bourne trilogy, although it felt real. Behind us were the Summer sun and the blue sea at Nazaré. It was an extremely hot day and we were both drenched in sweat. While we were climbing, we felt a presence behind us which we thought it would be a car to help us with our load; we looked back and saw only a bunch of male tourists in t-shirt and beach shorts staring at us with a dumb look on their faces.
At some point the hill became quite sloped and one of us was about to give up (I can't remember who), but the other one said it would be a complete waste to quit when we were so close to the top. And in fact we were just at the end. I stopped and looked ahead, resting; the road kept going in front of me, with well kept grass. I saw a tree on my left side and a yellow house on my right side, further ahead.
I started walking, my load wasn't important anymore. I remembered saying to I...  that The Bourne trilogy was one of the best action movie series I knew, although I had not seen any of the movies entirely.
Suddenly it was night. The road was the same, but I was at the other side of Nazaré, now descending. The town was sleeping. All windows were dark, except for one in a building at my right. It was my father's bedroom. I tried to figure out why the room was lit; no one could be seen in the room. I looked to my left, to the other side of the street, at a construction site. It had a wooden cabinet between two parked cars, which served as toilet. It was an exquisite little toilet, red and blue, shaped like a tiny chalet. I approached and noticed someone was sitting there with the door opened. It was my father. He was drunk and trying to get rid of a couple of flies waving his hands randomly. I asked him about him being there when he had a perfectly good toilet inside. He told me, half sleeping, half repelling the flies, half taking a crap, that he enjoyed the fresh air. I argued no more.
... .  .   .

I woke up, thinking I should watch The Bourne trilogy.

April 12, 2012

Me and I... were at some bar with stone walls and cozy ambience. We were having a casual conversation. At some point wanted to go elsewhere. "Where to?", I asked. She paused for a moment to think about it and then told me she wanted to go play pool. I was a bit surprised because it wasn't something I would expect her to want. At first I said "I don't know, I'm not a good player...", but then I reconsidered "What the hell, I can play as badly as any person who doesn't usually play".
...

Somehow we ended up at my parent's handicraft shop. I was taking care of the place while my parents were gone. It was a bit boring to be there when we both wanted to go elsewhere. I... was standing with her hands inside the pockets of her poppy red overcoat. It was about 17:30 so I decided to close. But then a couple of foreigners entered the shop. I tried to welcome them but they realized I was pretending and that I just wanted to leave as soon as possible. So I went into the basement while I... watched over the shop. I had to change trousers, and I also wanted the couple to leave. While I was undressing, I heard the steps of the couple going away, and then I started to rush, but I couldn't find my underwear no matter how hard I looked for it. I considered going without it but decided not to. I was getting more and more upset. I started yelling to myself.
... .  .   .

I woke up. This dream wasn't so bad even though I didn't feel happy in it.

April 10, 2012

I was at home with I... . My brother was there too.
She was constantly criticizing my behavior, and she was also upset about something I had said. She was sitting on a brown cushioned armchair and I was sitting on one of its arms, although I felt as if I were sitting on her lap. Her hair was wet like if she had washed it just a moment ago. While caressing her hair, I kept trying to explain her the reasons why she shouldn't get upset about what I had said. She kept coldly staring at me, becoming more and more impatient about my explanation. I begun lacking words to reason with her.
...

Then we were walking on a big square at Nazaré. I wanted to show her the town. She was criticizing the way I dressed and walked. She told me I would never get a job acting like that. I felt really bad because I didn't know what was wrong with my appearance (she would never speak to me like this in reality). She told me I should use sports clothing and I replied I didn't want to because I had worn sports clothing for about 5 years during my teenage days; she was shocked to hear this and looked at me with disdain and disbelief. Then she suddenly decided to go elsewhere alone and I had no reaction. I stood there watching her go some other part of town.
It was getting dark and I couldn't find her. There was a lot of people in the streets, and all restaurants and bars had greenish yellow lights, and it was as if my eyes were blurry from steam. While I looked for her, wandering around the square, I frequently found friends and acquainted persons from a long time ago. They all mocked me for not being able to find her. They all jested about the fact the she didn't care the least bit about me.
It was night. One of them told me she was near the beach watching the fishmonger women playing a traditional Easter game consisting in trowing a tennis ball against a wooden box. I advanced in the direction they pointed and saw her from afar, gaily observing the women having fun. Or maybe I just imagined her.
... .  .   .

I woke up, sweating, anxious. I grow weary of these dreams...

April 10, 2012

I was with my mother inside our Nissan Micra from 1993. We were going home. While going up a hill I some why decided to let the steering wheel go. I think I was testing the steering. My mother warned me about the cliff just outside the road, but I was overconfident and was too late taking control over the car.
The fall was like something out of the old Looney Tunes: the car was frozen in the air for maybe a second, the wheels and lower chassis fell, then the rest of the car fell. I was able to jump out but my mother took the weight of the upper chassis on her back.
She was lying on the floor, her back was facing up and I could tell she was seriously injured on her face and chest, even though I couldn't turn her over. She couldn't talk but was breathing. For some reason I decided to call my grandmother and ask her to call the police, instead of calling them myself. My grandmother began asking questions, and she was slow and couldn't understand everything I said. I was getting really annoyed with her, but she kept making me questions in a calm tone.
... .  .   .

I woke up, relieved. I remembered how my grandmother has recently recommenced over explaining simple things.

April 7, 2012

I was at Porto, at a party someone was giving in a small apartment. I was in the kitchen, talking to several persons I have never seen. There was a short haired caucasian guy speaking to me about an hallucinogenic drug. He told me the drug had the power to turn everything better. I told him that no drug could turn sex even better. Then a girl there looked at me asserting on what he was saying. He placed the drug in my hand, wrapped in a transparent plastic lid. I touched the opened surface of the drug with my fingertip and became immediately dizzy. I put the drug away and went in the living room. It looked cozy, with several cushioned red armchairs and a brick fireplace the same color. My brother was there, and some other persons. All of them reading or at least looking at books. It looked like the room for the shy people invited to the party. I sat on one of the armchairs beside the one my brother was sitting. I told him something with no importance just to talk. Then I saw this brazilian girl with a black t-shirt right in front of me. She pressed her chest against my face and talked to my ear: "Do you want a quicky?". It didn't take me long to react: I thought about I... and maybe about my brother for a second and said "yes". Still in intimacy, we decided we were going to my home. We were leaving...
... .  .   .

I woke up. It was a nice dream.

April 6, 2012

I was at the village house in which I lived until I reached 24. S... and her boyfriend were there. My brother too. It was night and the house was badly lit.
...

I had finished using the toilet and I was using a piece of toilet paper to clean my penis, as I heard S... coming in my direction. I tried to rush it so she wouldn't see me like that. She saw me and started laughing about my figure and commented on how small my organ was. She laughed like a dumb college girl. Her boyfriend came along wandering what was happening so she told him. He told her not to be so childish and he actually defended me, still maintaining distance from the awkward situation, as if all he wanted was to get S... away from there. My brother wasn't getting the conversation.
... .  .   .

I woke up and was reminded of I... . It took me some effort to remember I had a dream which gladly wasn't about I... . It also took me a while to recollect the dream from my memory.

April 5, 2012

Once again I was going around the city of Porto with several persons I know. At some point we were going to use this aerial train (instead of the existing subway) to reach some part of the city, possibly an exhibition. I remember both my cousin and I... were present in the dream. As we entered the futuristic train, which carriages opened and then flattened almost completely like a box, I looked nervously around me searching for I... : i wanted to get in the same carriage she would get in. As my carriage was closing I noticed her poppy red overcoat in a carriage nearby which was also closing. It was too late. The train began moving. We arrived very swiftly and I looked around me again to find her, as my group was reuniting to enter the expo. Finally, I looked across a rectangular grass section in front of the building and she was going away on the sidewalk along the road. She looked taller than she actually is. I called her from where I stood, she didn't listen. I got closer and called louder. She turned herself and started coming back; she didn't look pleased, it seemed she was trying to get rid of this visit and go elsewhere the moment I called her. I think she was aware of this so she had a mocking look on her face while coming back.

... .  .   .

I woke up, tired of these dreams.

April 3, 2012

I accompanied my mother in a visit to a friend of hers. I think this friend was a woman. The moment we arrived they told me to go meet the friend's daughter in her bedroom. At this point I noticed I was visiting the house where I lived from when I was seven to about twenty three years old. They took me trough a corridor and showed me the way to the bedroom, which was my own (I'm not sure I noticed this in the dream). Everything was embedded in light blue coming from the small transparent glass tiles in the ceiling. The sun had already set but there was a fair amount of clarity. The daughter didn't speak to me, but received me in my room. She looked very reserved in her expression, but she was wearing, tightly fitting to her body, a black pajamas made of cotton and lycra; it looked almost like jogging clothing. This girl was maybe about eighteen years old, and her skin reflected a lot of blue so she was probably very white. She was a bit skinny, not too much, and she was almost my height. She had a pretty face with an elegant plain nose, a discrete mouth and a small roundy chin, and her cheeks were not too protuberant. Her eyes seemed to be near black, and transmitted some kind of nervous and voluntary absence. She had black straight hair, not very long, some of it caught in the back of the head with an elastic band; this also made her look like a jogger, even though she looked like she hadn't exercise in a long time. When both our mothers left, she turned her back to me and lied down in her (my) bed, and then faced me again, still very quiet, tucked inside the sheets. I instinctively joined her, and hugged her entire body. I felt she was naked (I was too) and extremely tense. I tightened my embrace, and she furled inside of me, pressing her head against my chest and her arms against hers. She was having an orgasm, although very silently. Then she left the bed, jumping over my body, wearing the same clothes as before, and went through the corridor.
...

I was still lying in the bed, facing the end of the glassy blue corridor when I saw her coming in my direction. At first she was very small, wearing a white kimono. She looked like a kokeshi doll. Then she turned into the same form and clothing as before, and jumped over me to get inside the bed again. I kept facing the corridor and she hugged me. I felt her hands around my body, her chest against my back. She then spoke for the first time, and I felt contentment in her voice. She asked me for some sort of object we needed to go further. I was a bit puzzled and asked "the box?", "a condom?...", and then it hit me: I needed a password, but she said it before I could.
... . . .

I woke up. There were memories of I... , but this was not her... Who was this girl?... Maybe it was my will to change.

March 28, 2012

Me, my brother and my mother were at a very small portuguese village in the countryside. The days were hot and dry as they have been recently so most of the landscape had a very faint tone of green close to the ground, turning into a mix of white and light brown as it ascended. It was a fairly ugly little village, with old tar roads, walls made from concrete blocks surrounding the properties and mostly simples houses painted in ugly stained dark green or pink.
...

The three of us were heading to a big barn with walls made also from concrete blocks and a roof made from wavy steel plates. We were going there to see a play, probably performed by amateurs.
...

As we returned from the play thinking it was as bad as we had expected, someone warned us two bulls were going to be set free to run trough the village as it was supposedly normal in this time of the year. As we began running to the car I understood this and the play were parts of the same celebration taking place that day. Then we noticed my brother was at a public toilet cabin, but we still had to run to the car, because we could already see the bulls being released.

We got inside the car and I hit the keys and pedal like crazy. we drove off. A few seconds later my brother called my mother on the cell phone asking us to go get him because he was inside the cabin and there was a bull outside. At this point I could visualize him looking in terror trough the small rectangular windows of the door to the heavy black bull outside. The door was mirrored on the outside, but the bull didn't seem to be noticing anything. I immediately turned around the car in the direction of the barn, even tough I had no idea of how we were going to save my brother. The second I did that we saw the other bull galloping like mad on the side of the road. His rear was bouncing to one side so it has a strange way of running, but very scary nonetheless. I kept going in his direction wondering if he would try to hit the car with his head. My mind was assaulted with that image, of the bull hitting the front of the car, right against me, the metal bending and the glass shattering in front of me.
... .  .   .

I woke up and the image of the crash was repeated inside my mind.
I also recalled my mother saying "I...  needs someone who's a bull."

2011

I was wandering trough badly lit corridors, each of them separated by a wooden or ironed door. These corridors were lined with tiles generally dark green and brown. The sides of the corridors were completely dark, as if I were walking between two rows of dense and tall black bushes, so it was impossible for me to tell how wide they were. There was a white light from above, and maybe also from where the doors were placed, but only when looked at from a long distance; it felt warm, but as sterile as nostalgia. There was also a watery feeling on the air coming from the sides.
The wooden doors were white or brown, and painted almost fresh. The ironed doors had very dark corrosion signs. As I advanced from door to door I felt this ever increasing anxiety inside of me. I felt I was continuously searching for something very important. So I crossed corridor after corridor, door after door, until I reached another white door. Yet this one opened to a corridor which was placed differently from the others. This one was crossing the one I was leaving like a 'T', and it had concrete walls painted in sea green. Also, now the space was lit by a lamp placed upon a small wooden table, above which was a large horizontal painting, possibly of a landscape. There were copper pipes along the wall and close to the floor; very clean and shiny copper tubes. It felt cozy and clean. It was the corridor of a restaurant, I could hear the combined voices of many conversations trough the wall. 
Dwelling this scenario were many young women, all of them skinny and pale, with rigid haircuts, blonde and black, and all of them wore black and gray fashion clothing and heavy red on their lips. They were crossing the corridor and didn't seem to notice me while I desperately tried to get their attention and ask them about that which I was looking for. Tension was rising as I grabbed the women by their arms, by their bags and clothes in hopes of getting an answer, but nothing happened, and the anxiety inside of me kept growing, as well as this overwhelming noise which deafened me until I could hear the crowd no more. The painting in front of me got bigger to the point I was able to enter it and find a small empty room made from old victorian bricks. Any light in that room came from the other side of the painting behind me, and now my senses were so much alert I could hear myself breathe in distress from the pounding of my heart inside my chest. Intuition told me to advance into the dark, I felt something was there, although impossible to identify. Suddenly there was a voice surrounding me, maybe it was my own: "and there it was…", it said, as slowly I advanced a little bit more, sustaining my breath "…my hurt!"
… .  .   .

I woke up immediately sitting down on my bed, still with the voice reverberating inside my head. I felt a profound sadness, and bent over my stomach like a worm. I tried to cry but no real tears came to my eyes. I lied down again and turned to the side to sleep again, wondering about the beauty of such dream.

March 2012

I was walking in the streets of Porto having some sort of conversation with chef Gordon Ramsay. He was wearing his white chef shirt and all his gestures and vocal intonations were exactly like on TV. I don't know what we were talking about, maybe about the city and its food.
...

At some point he saw a woman, a portuguese woman, and immediately turned his attitude into that of  an alpha male, surrounding her and engaging in lewd conversation. So she rapidly started feeling harassed and used her cell phone to call the police, which arrived almost instantly. At this point there were already a few curious people watching the scene, and Ramsay started insulting the woman.
As Gordon was being arrested I asked him repeatedly: "What the fuck?! What are you doing? What the fuck are you thinking?".
Then I moved on visiting the streets and I ended up in a building which interior was very familiar to me from previous dreams, although in the actual dream I recalled it as I would have done with any other memory.
The entrance hall was occupied by a big wooden stair, like a squared spiral upwards, and the wood had a very shiny and fake red tone produced by the use of enormous quantities of lacquer. It also had excessive cheap ornamentation giving it the aspect of a chinese store.
I reached the top by climbing just two stories. There I found a few restaurant tables with white towels which looked equally cheap. In one of those tables a group of old ladies (maybe 3) had had their meals long ago and were chatting and sewing some clothing by hand. They looked at me as if I was someone very familiar and, although I recognized them, I wasn't completely at ease with them.
...

I descended the stairs and left.
 ... .  .   .

I woke up and remembered I had seen that building before in other dreams, but it was a lot taller and I used to wake up by falling down the stairs.
I laughed with the idea of going trough the streets talking to Gordon Ramsay and using his language to protest against him.  

March 26, 2012

There was a robot like Cain, from "Robocop 2" in my village. It was my own creation but it was malfunctioning: it had frequent mood changes. It had already killed some kid who was the brother of a blonde young woman who was staying at my house in the small village where I live.
...

At the point from which I can remember, me and her were at the back of my home garden, and I was trying to make her trust my robot again. In a matter of seconds the robot changed his mood again and hit her in the side of the head and face, drenching her white 90s t-shirt with blood. We began running away from there, passed my green iron gate heading to the hill top (where I usually run to in similar dream situations). The robot was slow, but stopped at nothing. We ran with great dificulty as people usually do in dreams, as if trying to move fast under water. Halfway to the hill we realized it was necessary for each of us to load an enormous black iron bar on our backs; maybe these bars were other parts of the robot. The bars were so heavy we had to crawl with them. The robot was nowhere to be spotted but we felt it was coming without stopping for a second. The bars were so heavy we couldn't manage to look back.
... .  .   .

I woke up with the feeling something was wrong. I remembered of I... .
Then I remembered the blonde girl with her shirt drenched in blood.

march 25, 2012

There was a party at my cousin's house, and I felt like in my teenager days again, although it was happening today.
I went in the red door and climbed the wooden stairs. Among the many invited people, there was the DJ and I... , who was wearing a dark purple sweater I fancied very much.
I remember there were a lot of futile-looking girls, most of them blond with a soft tan, running in a very girl-ish way through the corridors.
I was looking for I... , I wished to tell her how to use the wireless on her black cellphone. I climbed another set of stairs to get to the attic and find her. There was a fairly big crowd up there, or at least it felt so, because I couldn't actually see anyone clearly, except for I...  who was going around with her black cellphone. I approached her still with the intent of helping her, but it was as if she was not listening and her presence in the party was merely that of an assistant, like an event manager. She looked stressed trying to deal with the options on her cellphone.
...

Then I was at the first floor gain, sitting at the top of the stairs, my back facing a window at the end of a Summer afternoon. The party was ending, and still I was a bit anxious to get close to I... .
At that point, the DJ was sitting beside me, very close and licking my face, while someone behind me loudly splattered cement on a wall at each licking. I dared not looking at the DJ, even though he was annoying me.
Some people were still going from the rooms to the corridor and down the stairs. My cousin came near me and asked in a mildly rude way: "who's that beauty over there?". I was surprised, I wasn't seeing her anywhere, I felt she was already gone... I told him it was I...  and that she was very dear to me. He understood he shouldn't treat her the way he did with the other girls.
... .  .   .

I woke up and remembered why I...  was so distant in the dream.
I also remembered there was someone the DJ wished was closer to him.

march 2, 2009

I went home from the call center in the middle of the afternoon,

I was going to have visitants at home. My dog was alive.

When I got home everyone was already eating, but instead of eating the recently cooked food I went to search for any possible leftovers in the fridge. I found something with corn, something with boiled eggs, something with salad, maybe, a deep plate with codfish, potatoes, something dark green and a lot of olive oil, and a white chantilly cream made of condensed milk and chocolate bits. This one, unfortunately, I dropped on the floor. Still it was a lot, but I was able to put it all back over kitchen table next to the wall, and eat with a spoon from the part which hadn't touched the floor.

This wasn't my parents home's kitchen, it was a mixture from the kitchen I have here and some student residency kitchen, and it was pretty unclean.

At that point, I was wearing a pijamas. Someone appeared and asked me why was I eating all that old food, I said the food wasn't so old that couldn't be eaten, and that I wanted not to spoil food, even though when she left I put all back inside the fridge because it was smelling strange, even tough I actually ate from the candy(?).

So I entered the room join the family and, to my surprise, my grandmother was there too (did she make up with my mother?). I was also surprised to see a girl I sometimes talk to at the call center.

My grandmother was at the garden speaking to my father when I was amazed by the fact that she was there.

Then I noticed I had my headset still with me. I put it on my ears and was a bit stunned when I hear a costumer's voice. I tried to rephrase his question, tried to say "excuse me, sir, I didn't get what you were saying, I couldn't hear it...", he said "I don't care, good day to you!", and hung off. Right after I got another call which didn't start so badly, but then I noticed I didn't have the computer to check any information so I could only give answers by memory. I was very shy of answering calls sitting on my sofa with my family and a co-worker sitting around me. My mother even told me that it was no place or time to be answering calls. But I had to make sure I wasn't going to get fired, so I rushed to my old bedroom and logged off my account so that I wouldn't get any more calls. Then a sight of the call center came to me, there were more than 200 clients on the line and I had two warnings on a small remote screen that doesn't really exist. One of them had "mayday, mayday!", and it was from my supervisor, the other one was also from my supervisor and it had a flash animation with a wooden

house being surrounded by war tanks. People were asking for me all over the place and had already noticed I was missing on my seat. I logged off completely and the vision was gone. This would be my first fault to the company and the economic situation wasn't good so I had to be careful not to get fired.

I wen't back to the room and I found the girl from the call center alone. I told her about the situation and she told me "relax... there's no problem  on skipping once. What was your last BUS here? 8 o clock?" "Yes, about 7, 8pm..." "then you can tell you went to visit your family and had no way of going back.". I was a bit relieved with this but not entirely. Still, there was nothing I could do. She started talking about some quilts, "turret quilts". I asked "turret, like those machine guns from video games?" "Yes, I have a quilt with those patterns, wanna see it?" "Yes...". So she went to get the quilts and when she was back I noticed I was wearing only a t-shirt, and felt a bit uncomfortable, but she didn't notice it at all when she got back with the first quilt; we were comfortable with it not in an intimate way but in a dream way where things don't make sense but we don't remember asking about them. I was expecting to see a quilt with machine gun fire patterns, but she showed me the quilt where my dog used to sleep on, and with small pink flowers over dark blue. I was disappointed for I had never seen a machine-gun fire pattern quilt.

... .  .   .

I woke up and thought about war coming from the beach.