Subterranean kingdom

Image converted using ifftoanyMany years ago, I had a dream that was on the scale of an epic movie. I was in the lead role, and there were hundreds of other people involved, including Tony Blair, who was the Prime Minister at the time. I don’t ‘do’ politics, so for me to dream about any politician is saying something, but the fact that it was the PM himself who appeared adds a little more emphasis to the dream.

I was starting work in a new job, although at the time I didn’t know that this was a cover for the task that had been planned for me. I arrived at this office building to find it locked – and empty. A few other people were also milling about, slightly confused, so I presumed they had turned up to start work too.

I was about to set back off home, when a black limousine pulled into the car park, and two men and a woman got out of the car. Very important looking, and imposing in their jet black suits, dark sunglasses and slicked back hair. The woman also had vibrant red lips, and it was she who opened the door at the back of the limousine.

Out stepped Tony Blair – of all people; although I thought he looked a lot shorter than he appeared on the news reports – and he started walking towards me. The woman was by his side, and the two men followed slightly behind. The woman shouted to all of the other people to gather round me, and it took about twenty seconds or so for them to group together.

Tony Blair started to speak by apologising for the way he had gathered us all together. He needed to do it this way because, although we were starting a new job, it wasn’t the one we were expecting. The government had been working on a project to create an underground kingdom, and they needed certain people with certain skills to fill specific roles. The project was classified as ‘completely unlisted’, which was way higher than ‘top secret’, and it couldn’t be mentioned until this day. He went on to say that we were under no obligation to take the job, but we had been specially selected for our skills. (I was confused because I didn’t think I had any skills, but sometimes others see things in us that we don’t see in ourselves. I had Tony Blair telling me that I had these required skills, so I wasn’t going to argue.)

A couple of the others decided not to take the job, because they didn’t want to work for the government, so they were paid a year’s salary there and then, for what they would have earned in the first year if they had started work. They were also told that they should never mention the project under any circumstance; and they agreed.

The rest of us were asked to get onto a bus that had pulled onto the car park, and we would be taken to the correct location.

I don’t remember the bus journey, and the next thing we were standing in a field with nothing around us. In front of us was a small manhole cover, which had been revealed by the turf that was covering being peeled back. We were told to go down the ladder beneath the manhole cover, one at a time – this was very important. I was to go first.

The hole was dark, and I could only see the first few rungs on the ladder. I started down the ladder, which after a few steps became encased in a cage, and the more steps down that I took, the artificial lighting started to brighten my way. I could now see down this ladder, but not to the bottom. I reached a sign that said I had a further two miles to walk before reaching the bottom. No wonder we had to go alone!

I eventually reached the bottom. The cage had changed into a fully enclosed compartment now, and at the bottom I found myself in a small room, with a metal door with a round window. The door creaked as it opened, and I was greeted by a familiar face. Two familiar faces. Tony Blair and a woman who worked in the local Co-op, who I only knew by sight. I have no idea how Tony Blair got down there before me, as it appeared this was the only way in. Obviously, there was another way. Tony Blair introduced me to Anne, the woman from the Co-op, and said that she was my induction clerk and would talk me through what I needed to do, and would also give me a guided tour of the city.

Anne took me into another room, and asked me to complete a form. She recognised me from the Co-op and said that I would know a lot more people down there than I would expect, although nobody can mention it to anybody. And from that moment on, there was to be no mention of the fact that we were in this place – even though we were. Very confusing, but it made sense at the same time.

After finishing the paperwork, Anne took me through another door, and I was outside. The wind was a gentle breeze, birds were flying passed me into the trees that were all around. The sky was the brightest blue imaginable, with a few clouds that appeared to be quite low. A river snaked around the perimeter of this parkland where we were standing, and apart from the stone wall behind, where the door was, everything seemed normal. Anne said the sky wasn’t real, and neither was the wind. They were both artificially generated. The river was flowing, and alive, there were boats on it and a couple of swans. I could now see archways in the trees. In fact, there were archways everywhere. Anne said that not all of the arches were open, as they all led to different areas of the city, some of which were still under construction.

The boats were the method of transport in this subterranean world, and Anne asked me to get on the next one, which was number 41. The driver (captain?) was someone I recognised from the butchers, and I had to smile at the look of secret recognition that came across his face. Just a fleeting glance and then it was business as usual.

Anne was explaining all of the different parts of the city that needed to be worked on, the accommodation area, the retail areas and the commercial areas all needed some work doing, but there were 30,000 people who were employed by the City so there was enough for the work to be done. Anne said that most people only work one day a week in the City as although it looks very pleasant, it is still underground. I thought to myself that they couldn’t work any longer than that because they have to do their regular job above ground too. Which then got me to think about exactly how many people I knew who worked there… and then my thoughts changed to secrets and lies.

Still, I couldn’t mention it to anyone. I had accepted the job, and I had just found out that I was working only one day a week on it. What was I to do with the rest of my time?

My thoughts ended quickly when I saw one of the other ‘newbies’ who had travelled on the bus with me. He was being shown around by his induction clerk, who I recognised from Coronation Street off the TV. But there was no way we could acknowledge each other apart from that familiar glance. We could communicate as we would with someone in the outside world, but we couldn’t acknowledge the fact that we knew that we both worked in this City. I remember thinking what a strange way to exist, before my dream ended and I woke up.

The feelings from the dream were good – there was nothing sinister in it at all, it was quite comfortable and relaxed to be honest, but the lack of acknowledgement gave it a surreal twist.

And for my job – I have absolutely no idea what it was! I don’t even know what the one I had originally accepted was either, but what I had got was completely different to what I was expecting…

Passing the time

no timeToday’s post is a little ‘wait and see’ what happens. I’ve had a very quiet day today. I’ve enjoyed driving thanks to the fact that I have sent Bernard and Fred off on a ‘mission impossible’ type of task… they are searching for a haystack in the millions of rooms in my mind, and then they are going to search for a needle in it! It turns out they just wanted something to do, and were more than willing to take the task on board. So, no negative thoughts today. I think I should find more things to keep my mind occupied.

If I had more things to keep my mind occupied, writing posts for my blog would be a lot easier. Then again, there is nothing more challenging than a challenge; I mean it would be pretty boring if it was easy.

I’ve discovered a new fact about 1642 today. I’m still nowhere near to finding out why I’m drawn to that particular time period, but I had a prompt to look for more information when I looked at the time on my mobile phone this afternoon… 16:42. When these messages come in, they must be listened to. The event I have learned about today is based in North America, but came about with French origins. Montreal in Canada came into existence in 1642, well a part of it called Ville Marie did anyway. Paul de Chomedey, sieur de Maisonneuve founded the settlement, which over time grew and grew and grew!  Hopefully my knowledge of this time period will grow (maybe not as big) and I will find out once and for all why I have this connection. If not, I always have the option to try a past life regression.

I’m intrigued and apprehensive at the same time about being hypnotised. Intrigued at what I may find out and experience, and apprehensive about having information ‘placed’ inside my mind rather than me remembering it (or being made to walk like a chicken!) I’m sure there are some bona fide past life therapists out there, and I am certainly not casting any aspersions that they would partake in parlour tricks. I’ll try to find out what I can for myself first though, and, when the time is right, I just know that I’ll meet one of these therapists entirely by chance. Coincidences do happen – and to me quite a lot!

Back on the subject of keeping my mind busy, I find that the time passes much more quickly when I have something to concentrate on. I will have to have a think tomorrow for something that I can be getting on with in work on Monday, otherwise I’ll have another week as un-productive as last week. Time for thinking of nothing is for the weekends, or evenings, when I want to have a rest, and notice that I am taking things easy. It’s not really the best option for when I’m meant to be working. And saying that, I have had, possibly, one of the longest Saturdays I can remember! Not long and boring, but rather long and very enjoyable. A great restful day, with no negativity. In fact, when I checked the time on my mobile phone, I was expecting it to be much later, so I was pleasantly surprised twice by the time.

Although I want to be doing something to help me to write my posts and pass the time in work, in the same breath, I don’t want to be doing anything in my own time, which is kind of paradoxical in itself as I write my posts in my own time – so I’m doing something anyway! I’m passing the time writing about doing something that has changed how the time passes. I’m doing my usual ‘looking too deeply’ thing here, so I think I’ll leave it right there!

All in all, I’ve had a fabulous Saturday! No complaints! And I feel good. I love to feel good! Just thought I’d mention that…

My Inner Fred

DRIVINGI can not deny things any longer. I have been infected. I have become one of the type of beings everyone secretly dreads becoming. I am no longer in control of my senses. I have unleashed my Inner Fred. Or rather, my Inner Fred has been unleashed.

To be honest, this has absolutely nothing to do with me whatsoever. I am an innocent bystander in this whole sorry affair, while my body – and mind – is taken over in such an uncontrollable fashion, in such an undignified way, in such a shameful example that humanity has to offer. When I’m driving, my Fred bubbles to the surface.

I don’t know where it has all come from. Perhaps it stemmed from this post back in March, when I named this particular aspect of people’s characters ‘Fred’, but it isn’t very nice.

I’ve always felt a little frustrated when driving, particularly at red traffic lights (which I have commented on about a thousand times during the time of this blog), and a little less frustrated in traffic jams. I’m apprehensive when another driver is driving that close behind me, they are practically sitting in my back seat. I’m anxious when a motorist will overtake me on a road with a 30 mile per hour speed limit, at eighty miles an hour (well, that’s how it feels anyway). I’m perplexed when pedestrians walk in the road without a care that they are putting their own lives at risk, and also delaying other road users. And I’m annoyed when thoughtless drivers drive into a box junction when they can see the way ahead is not clear.

Bernard, my nagging inner voice, has always told me to do these annoying things. Drive into that junction and block them in – you know someone will do it to you! He’ll start off with, and then, to make things worse, he’ll say But you won’t do it because you are useless. You are less than useless.

Of course, I don’t listen to Bernard, and drive the way I was taught, almost a century ago (and passed my driving test first time around, I add in a big-headed way!). I stick to the speed limit, carefully observing any hazards that may appear in the road. I’m always waiting at the front of a queue at a set of red traffic lights because I always stop when the lights are on amber. I sit and watch patiently, as all around me other drivers are losing their heads, and their cool, because they are being delayed in the latest traffic jam. I have always been that way.

I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what went wrong. I don’t know when it went wrong. This week, I have been like a man possessed on the road. I’ve jumped a red traffic light (well, it was a second away from changing to red, and where in the past I’d have stopped, I drove on regardless). I pulled out into another lane of traffic because the queue ahead had annoyed me, and I drove on again regardless. The driver in the car that was about three car lengths behind me didn’t like me doing this, and honked their horn at me. Bernard wanted me to gesture something, but I firmly told him to shut up.

I was thinking two things. What had just happened? and what could have happened? If the car was closer, neither of us would have been driving any further along the road. And instead of being stuck in a traffic jam, I’d have probably been the cause of one.

I don’t drive like that. Tiredness is not an excuse. Being late is not an excuse. Wanting to be where I was going is also not an excuse. So why did I do it?

What has changed within me, that has released my Inner Fred, and turned me into this road-raged monster? I can hear Bernard laughing at me as I type this – at least I think it’s Bernard… it may be Fred.

What makes things worse, is that I only have a little car. It’s a fabulous black runabout that zips around the streets with the greatest of ease, but it isn’t a racing car. Which is good, because I’m not your average typical boy racer anyway – I don’t like too much speed.

So, how can a gentle, patient, respectful driver change into a monster with little – or no – provocation?

My nagging inner voice tries to talk me into all sorts of things, which I usually ignore. So that can only mean one thing. I have another nagging inner voice. Only this inner voice is less vocal than Bernard, but also has control of my body… and is, unfortunately, impulsive.

I must learn to keep control of myself from now on when driving. I am disciplined and can do it when I focus, so if I need to concentrate more on my driving style rather than getting from A to B things should improve. I’m asking for help from the universe too, as I feel I need it. I feel as though there is only a small part of me having to fight off two inner demons that want to control me, and take over me. Bernard’s tame. I can handle Bernard most of the time. Fred, however, is devious. Sinister. And secretive.

I have a feeling that if Fred has recruited Bernard to do his bidding, I may be in for a bit of a rocky time whilst driving.

Having said that, though, I am me, as I constantly go on about. My thoughts are part of me, and there are many aspects within me that I can call on to assist me whenever this darkness tries to take over me again. It may appear that I am having an inner dispute with myself, but it is worth it in the long run.

I mean, I’d rather do what is safe and healthy than something impulsive and stupid.

I’m also keeping my eyes open wider for other people who drive in this way (the stupid way), so I can avoid them. If Fred is active, I am open to this sub-conscious suggestion, so I will fall into the same patterns… remember what we think about we bring about.

I want the roads I use to be safe. And that safety must begin with me.

If you are behind me, and I’m holding you up whilst driving at the speed limit, or stopping on an amber traffic light, or not entering a box junction, I’m not doing it to annoy you. I’m hoping that you will realise that I’m driving properly. Safely. Calmly.

Keep Calm and Carry On.

The boredom of having it all

emptinessI want to write about something different today. Something different, and something easy.

I’ve had almost a whole week of having nothing to do at work. Having nothing to do is probably the easiest thing of all to carry out, but, we’re not meant to be in work to have nothing to do. That’s why it’s called work – we are there to do something.

What isn’t easy, is looking as though I’m doing something when I have nothing to do. Making something that takes thirty seconds to do last for two, maybe three hours. I’ve done it, so it can be done, although I had to ‘work’ very slowly indeed. I’ve also perfected my thumb twiddling technique, and I can now twiddle my thumbs forwards, backwards, in an artistic figure-of-eight movement, and in slow motion. The slow motion movement took me a little time to perfect… and I’m a perfectionist… some of the time!

So, although I had nothing allocated to work on, I did find a few things that I could pass the time with; I made sure that no stone was left un-turned, so I was actually working at something. And it looks as though I’ll probably have to find something to do tomorrow as well, but tomorrow is another day. You never know, I could be writing tomorrow about my fabulous lottery win… or my fabulous dream of my lottery win… we’ll have to wait an see what happens there.

…Winning big on the lottery, or the football pools, or the premium bonds – or even being handed a huge cheque by a passing stranger in the street (a huge “hello!” and a nice friendly smile to any nice, passing stranger who happens to be walking passed me, and who would like to hand me a huge cheque…) would allow for plenty of time to have nothing to do, so with the practice that I’ve had this week I’m well on my way to the second part of this little dream scenario.

But, if this phenomenal amount of money landed in my lap, allowing me to say good-bye to work once and for all, I’d probably get bored quite quickly:

  • I mean, there are only so may Caribbean Islands that can be visited on my luxury cruise liner
  • I’d soon start to feel weary of driving around in a brand new car every week
  • What do I need to buy fantastic looking clothes for when my current clothes are more than comfortable?
  • I’d miss my regular supermarkets as I’d be shopping in more expensive places
  • I mean my staff would be shopping in more expensive places
  • I’d have to buy a couple of pets so they can travel around with me – or my staff
  • I’d start to feel tired of constantly decorating Aquatom Mansion
  • Dare I say it, but I may not be able to read after reading all of the books I wanted to, although I could pay my favourite writers to create something just for me
  • Champagne would lose it’s appeal after a couple of months
  • I wouldn’t need to look into the history records to find information about 1642, as my historians would have found all the facts for me
  • I’d soon lose the enjoyment of having a lie in every morning, but wouldn’t need to get up. I could get my staff to have lies in too, but then we’d all become fed up of it

If I had everything that I ever wanted, and there was nothing left for me to want, I’d be bored. I could re-look at the things I have, but feel empty. There would be nowhere further to go. Nothing further to dream about, or to aim for. To save for. To look forward to. I’d have to be handed a heck of a lot of money to get to that stage, but I doubt that I actually would reach that stage. There is always someone else who could do with a little more money too. And I suppose I could help them, given half a chance.

Until my passing stranger hands over these uncountable millions to me, I’m stuck with having to go to work to do nothing. Well, for this week at least. Next week, I may be busy again – and wishing that I had more time to get things done.

At the end of the day, having it all or having nothing, I still have to pass the time with something. I can moan about what I have or haven’t got, or concentrate on my now and enjoy the moment. At least I can daydream about could bes and what ifs. When I have the time, that is!

Dream destination: Just outside of New York City

solI was in my parallel dream universe again last night. No flying this time, and the dream was more focussed on the place rather than the people.

When I dream, I have a feeling of whether I’m at home or in another country. My dream the other night of being by the sea, was ‘set’ in the UK. My dream last night, was ‘set’ just outside of New York City. The New York City of my dreams is slightly different to the New York City of the ‘real’ world.

I’ve dreamt of being in New York many times. I had a recurring nightmare after the 9/11 attacks that I was either in one of the towers during the attack, or I was flying in to the city (by conventional methods – on a plane!) and saw the attacks taking place through the window of my plane. One dream I had, I was leaving the city, by air again, when the attacks took place, and again I could see the horrific events taking place through the window of my plane. These dreams always had the feeling of ‘getting away from it just in time’. They weren’t the most pleasant of dreams I’ve had, but they are among the most vivid.

The dream I had last night took place just outside of New York City. I don’t know the name of the road, but it is one of the main streets in New York. Looking from the Statue of Liberty, you would be travelling towards the right along this main road. Continue along this road for about an hour, as it snakes around the mountain, and you will arrive at the place where I was staying. The mountain blocks out the view of the New York skyline, but you don’t need to travel that far to be able to see it again in the distance. There is also no mobile phone coverage in this area, so be warned if you dream that you go there.

A short walk onwards from this place (I don’t know if it is a town, a house, a hamlet) the path opens out into a very long walkway, with a knee high wall all along the right hand side, and every now and then there are wrought iron gates. Beyond the wall, is Texas, and the only way in is through the gates, which get further and further apart from each other the more you walk along this walkway. You just don’t step over the wall – the temptation to do so isn’t even there.

Along this walkway, the weather is fabulous. Always sunny and warm.

Eventually, the walkway joins up with another road, which you can see along for miles. In the distance, looking left, you can see a white bridge, and just over that bridge there is a road that you need to turn left into to get back onto the road that leads along the front of New York City, and to the point where I described looking at from the Statue of Liberty earlier. Looking right, and the road continues along the perimeter of Texas. The occasional building stands out from the greenery and hills, and every now and then the mountain will pop back into view, but this area is very much open space. I did say that the New York of my dreams is completely different to the real one.

So, I’m in this hamlet-place, and can’t use my mobile phone. I’m in the shade of the mountain, and can’t see New York. And I’m looking for something. It’s something very important, but it’s something that isn’t for me. Only, I don’t know what it is that I’m looking for. I need to find it by a certain time, and I wake up before finding what it is.

It wasn’t a frustrating dream – the openness was breath-taking… refreshing too, in a way. The not knowing and not finding what I was looking for was a feature of the dream, but not the main event – the place had the emphasis.

Could this indicate a need to look at things in a different way? Or a sign that I’m looking at things that just aren’t for me? Or do I need to open up more? And why do I keep re-visiting this same location?

The more I think, the more questions I find I ask.