I like a good dream! I don’t mind the occasional nightmare either, for that matter, just as long as it is an entertainingly spooky nightmare, and not one of those leap-out-of-bed-shaking-and-drenched-in-sweat types, or LOOBSADIS, as this type of dream is regularly called by myself. Well, not that regularly, to be honest, I don’t have that many Loobsadis dreams, but when I do, I really have them. Loobsadis also needs to have it’s own style of lettering, just because it is one of those words.
I don’t want to dwell on any of the dreams that have left me with an awfully bad feeling. That would not do the whole ‘feel good’ thing any favours whatsoever! One Loobsadis dream that I don’t mind writing about is a random little one that I had several years ago. The memory is still with me to this day. And, at times, I shudder when I think of it.
*Shudders*
See… told you! Anyway, read on and you too may find yourself shuddering. Either with fear or uncontrollable laughter (I don’t know which) but the nightmare was very vivid to me. Very frighteningly vivid.
I’d decided to go for a jog. Now, me and exercise do not tend to see eye to eye, but when I need to do it, I do it pretty well indeed, thank you very much. Apart from jogging, that is. I’m not the world’s best jogger, although I have plenty of dreams where I am out jogging.
It was early in the morning. The day had a yellowish glow to it. The sky was yellow, the grass was a yellowy green, the buildings were a yellowy browny terracotta colour, and the clothes I was wearing were a kind of yellowy blacky whitey red. A lot of yellow was featured in this dream. Now yellow is a colour that is associated with celebration, and is a bright, happy and uplifting colour… unless it is a dull yellow, when it is associated with fear.
*Scribble*

So, I was jogging on this brightest of yellow days. It was sooo yellow I had no idea of what was to happen later. I was perfectly happy jogging along, just watching the surroundings pass me by as I was jogging. The Eiffel Tower in Paris, The Taj Mahal in Agra, Mount Olympus in Greece, and Angel Falls in Venezuela all passed me as I was out that morning. Breath-taking scenery, I must admit.
I jogged around a corner, and found myself by the edge of a field. A very square field with a path that ran diagonally across it. A single tree was in the middle of this field, and apart from that there was nothing else around it. I started to run along this path, noticing how empty the place was. I also noticed the shift in the yellowness. It had become dull. At the time I didn’t know what this indicated, and carried on jogging regardless. I was confidently doing those jabbing motions with my fists that you see extremely fit people doing every now and then. Well, there was nobody else around – who would see me?
I heard a noise behind me, but carried on jogging. Jabbing and jogging. I heard the noise again – it was closer this time. I looked around, and saw, in the corner of the field a tiny bull running towards me. This bull was knee height, it was that small. However, it was charging towards me at a great speed. And, I was wearing red. Oh Kay then, I thought. I’ll run to that tree and jump up it so the bull won’t be able to trample me. Yes, I know the bull was small, but it looked strong. And it was grunting. And steaming. It was angry.
The tree, as is usually the case in this type of Loobsadis, was moving further away from me. The faster I ran, the further it moved away. And the faster I ran, the closer the bull got to me. I just had to keep on going. I could hear the grunting right behind me. I could feel the bull’s breath on my ankles. I looked around and saw the bulls head bowed. It was about to strike, and I was nowhere near the tree. I screamed.
I was in the middle of the room. Trembling. Wet through. And breathing heavily. Well, I had just jogged all around the world, without eating so much as a bean. In my dream, I think I leaped to get out of the bull’s way, and in reality I had leaped out of bed. My scream woke me up, and probably my neighbours too, but at the time I didn’t mind. I was glad to be in my dark room, away from that empty field and that charging bull. Harry Houdini himself would have been impressed by that escape! I must remember to ask him when I meet him!
See… Loobsadis are very random. The tiniest thing can change a dream from a pleasurable experience to one of sheer horror. Luckily, I have the experience of seeing those worldly landmarks which provide a nice counter-balance to the terror, and I can laugh at the dream now. I laugh in the face of fear. Well, the face of that tiny bull anyway… I don’t actually laugh at fear itself.
My mind must be telling me something with all of these different dreams I am having, although I’m not getting the message clearly coming through. Running through an open space? Exposed? Nowhere to escape? What can it mean?
Would you like to leave a comment?