I’ve had a couple of weird dreams this week. Well, one was weird, and the other one was just scary and disturbing.
I’m in Melbourne, at the Crown Casino, and am playing the pokies. Rather than buttons, though, there’s little joysticks on the machines, which you use to spin the numbers or whatever they’re called. Three ‘100’s come up, and I slow the spinning down with the joystick, lining the ‘100’s up. JACKPOT! The other weird thing about these pokies is that you can see the money in them. Basically, they’re a cross between pokies and skill-testers. So, I’ve got the jackpot, and all the money dumps out the top of the machine, into the tray below. I beckon one of the casino girls over, who gives me a whole heap of cups to collect the money in. It’s all in small change – 5c and 10c pieces, so there’s heaps of cash flooding out of the machine.
I gather it all up, and load all the cups of money into a box. I then venture outside, and call someone to get a lift home.
When I get home, my box of cash has turned into a box of freshly picked vegetables.
I’m on North Terrace. There seems to be a carnival going on. But that’s incidental, and has nothing to do with the dream. Someone who I recognise as a friend in the dream, but I’ve actually never seen before, calls me over to a small paved area around the corner (Rundle St, but again, not looking like Rundle St). He pulls out a syringe and grabs me, then pushes the needle into his own stomach. I, however, get the feeling that it’s my stomach that’s been stabbed. My vision starts going blurry, and this guy comes towards me with another needle, which he injects into my arm.
I ‘wake up’ in some sort of train carriage, where I’m told I’m in rehab. Apparently the ‘dream’ was some sort of flashback to years before, and I had been junkie since then.
While I didn’t mind the first dream, I didn’t like the syringe one at all. I really hate having senses in dreams. Especially physical senses. I don’t mind sight, but actually feeling physical pain in a dream sucks.