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PearlDiver's Dream Journal

Cohesion
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Views: 88

Prisoners of war

Rating
Monday, June 26 2017

1. Night, muddy field illuminated by torches. I work for a charity that helps find ways to release the prisoners of war. I’m putting together little parcels to be sent to the sponsors – these consist of red necklaces, seashells, books and booklets with information. The necklaces are made of garnet, I have to dig these out of the mud and wash them in a basin that stands on a long wide table right on the muddy field. I feel ill, doubled over with stomach ache and wait for someone t

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Cohesion
Comments: 5
Views: 107

Arachnids and apple pie

Rating
Thursday, May 25 2017

  3. The dream starts at the North Market in Hometown, although I have the dream knowledge that I’m currently backpacking through Asia. It’s nigh-time, the streets are empty. I’m just crossing the road when an average-looking guy catches up with me and offers to show me around; I have a distinct thought that he looks like Moby. On the other side of the road there is a steep sandy slope, barely illuminated by the light of the streetlights seeping through the roadside

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Cohesion
Comments: 4
Views: 262

A cult in eerie jungle vault

Rating
Tuesday, April 11 2017

The whole dream had a weird “Dear Diary” sort of voiceover. There is a tribe on the shore of the ocean bay, living in a village that’s built on stilts over the water, surrounded by a dense jungle. A part of the population belongs to a secret cult that is guarding ancient knowledge. I’m determined to become a member of the cult and at the moment the dream begins, I’m on my way to initiation. At the entrance of the bay there is a huge natural gray marble a

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Cohesion
Comments: 0
Views: 121

Airship crash and butchering gig

Rating
Saturday, March 25 2017

1. A sunny day on a shore where a vast desert meets the sea. An airship has been caught in a strong wind and is rapidly losing altitude. The balloon is squashed in a concave semi-circular shape, and the craft is going steeply downwards and is obviously going to crash. Jacques Paganel is the only person aboard; he isn’t panicking, just looking at the approaching ground with grim determination. I observe it as a disembodied presence flying/falling besides the airship.    

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Cohesion
Comments: 0
Views: 146

Knitter/detective and the desert flood orchestra

Rating
Thursday, March 2 2017

  1. I work in a surreal sort of plant as a knitter, one among many. The rest aren’t happy with their work conditions and go on a strike; however, I take pride in my work and sit high atop a tangle of silver steel pipes outside, knitting with green wool while the others are shouting and protesting on the lawn below. The pipes are cold, although the day is sunny and it is summer.     2. An unfamiliar young woman has a bullet hole in her coccyx. I am her friend and

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Cohesion
Comments: 0
Views: 102

Saving the little fish

Rating
Saturday, October 15 2016

I had a goldfish in a water-filled plastic bag and wanted to set it free; however, I was on a planet that had no water on the surface; it was all dark purple sand. There were other people looking for water with me. I started digging a well and at some point the dry, loose sand gave way to hard-packed moist dirt. The other people lowered a rope down that I tied around my waist. I dug through the last layer of the soil and hung in the air above the subterranean ocean, where I could finall

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Cohesion
Comments: 0
Views: 81

Surreal train trip

Rating
Saturday, September 24 2016

Me and Morti were on a train; I kept him company as there was no-one else in the train car and probably the whole train. That particular car had a trapdoor that opened to a spacious basement, also empty. Then from somebody on a bypassing train he learned that a friend of his had died. He was upset, screaming that he does not need me anymore. I got off the train and walked back from where the train had come. The landscape was flat, empty and very light - either snow or white sand. It was sunn

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Cohesion
Comments: 0
Views: 173

Desert

Rating
Monday, August 29 2016

I'm running in a desert having climbed down the side of a canyon. The landscape is burned orange sand strewn with rocks and rusted pylons as far as I can see. I get to a road that's full of abandoned cars and walk for a while. Then I hear a noise and hide in a dusty hole by the wayside that contains a few dried-up corpses. A man comes along the road, banging on a round piece of metal and shouting that "The gunter-boats are coming!".

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