TH27/2/2003: under a racetrack which is like a huge shed building with the cars far above. i am alone in the building as a car starts up. as it drives over the metals struts of the roof it makes an ominous clunk-clunk noise. i run off to one of the coin-op machines which is like a race game but i don't play it. instead i think about an email which Geoff sent me like "did you take a nasty pill or something?". then i strongly desire to take just one nasty pill as if there is one there, on the work bench. but i don't only just then a nasty woman turns up with a man and starts victimizing me. they are extremely clever and start threatening me with some legal action whilst they are being very patronising. we are eating a giant block of icecream with chunks of chocolate in it. then i come out with a clever legal riposte myself and this shuts her up. she is very impressed. also note that when the car started up a huge procession of kids arrived as part of some national holiday celebration and i wanted to avoid all of that so i sloped off to the side.
Satan turns up and i am arrested. "You cannot do this!" i yell at the end of the dream when i try to turn the tables on what is happening. i have a gun and i am using it on people by this swimming pool which is on the top of a tall building. i am myself avoiding other guns in a mad panic for my life. at one point my arm is shaking heavily as i aim the gun. then in the flat something to do with the X-files, particularly agent Moulder. i realise i am in a very dangerous position. somehow the flat is in a much hotter place like Arizona and i am aware as i watch tv on my own that people might be after me. i am eating while watching tv. earlier Noel sat me down in the living room of the flat. he was very angry because i had been doing the Goetia. he said "maybe Bael's idea of what is a good musical arrangement is not your idea of a good musical arrangement, for example". he was very calmly saying this but i suspect beneath the surface he was angry. then something to do with Quentin Tarantino? also a flat which is different to the Sidcup flat. then i try to keep my cool in the Sidcup flat as a long car pulls up outside with a man with a stetson hat in it. he is very involved with the Goetia and is considering killing me. i can "see" him with my ESP in the dream. but after a while he drives off, still maintaining his calm demeanour. the hot sun is beating down.
then in a town like Arizona state towns where i am left by Noel and Joan in the car as they go off to do some shopping. it is middle of the day and the sun is out. first Joan returns to the car park then we spend some time observing people in the car park for a sign of Noel but Joan says "you can recognise Noel by British Air". i mistake a couple of men for Noel.
then in a cafe where a waitress serves me a cup of coffee but mentions a special phrase which is the American lingo for having extra coffee. she leaves the jug of coffee with me. then she brusquely says "do it yourself" as she turns away. the extra coffee is supposed to be free.
plus when i was asleep i thought "don't bully Satan" then the sinister but friendly voice appeared "Mr. Crocell".
NOTE: the 'Goetia' as it appears in the above dream journal entry is a very dangerous magical text which has surfaced from the middle ages... i would advise you not to check it out as in my involvement with it it has lead to serious mental insanity due to demonic possession. not very nice kids.
SU2/3/2003: (NOTE: what follows is a dream diary entry written after drinking some absinthe, the liquer which contains wormwood (a hallucinogen) and also is linked to the 'Green Faery', quite a lot of fun although it is legal in the UK in many countries it is an illicit substance)
in the car parked in the sunny street with a skull 'n' bones and a sloshing small bottle of white wine. this vision was such a rich and beautiful spectactle that i thought "this is what a true spiritual vision is like" (i had been drinking absinthe for quite a while).
also murderous movement + pink. then i am on acid but i am coming home from a holiday and i am in some kind of park. the thing is i am receiving some very realistic hallucinations like a bus shelter that keeps going back and back and i know this is not "regular".
a black mosquito crawling across the carpet and onto the white plate which is where the bucket is. (the white plate is the one is use for my acrylic/watercolour painting as a palette.)
then i am in a library/bookstore where i am trying to look at the occult books but they are on a higher level. someone advises me to take acid in order to get "second voice". then John Cleese turns up and sits on a mattress while he prepares to ask what methods i have learnt about getting psychic voice.
also snow is a blonde haired woman walking past the front door in brilliant sunshine.
at university and in the library i am researching various psychic books on kundalini and sustaining it. then excitement as it is the beginning of the final year and i am around a group of old professors at the top of a mountain where we are very close to a cliff edge. i am nervous and back away but one of the professors, a short slender bearded guy looks over the edge, much to his own risk and his colleagues start berating him but he talks back about how it is perfectly safe what he is doing and "do you think my muscles would give out?" then Stewart Gandy is around as a class of us heads into a lecture theatre. i am telling him about a method for sustaining the kundalini in the muscle fibres and this is in a book in the library. he is interested but as the professor starts talking it becomes clear that i haven't done the work i should have done. he is reading out names and i hope he doesn't read mine out. he is quite old aswell.
also earlier as i dosed off to sleep i said spookily "i will start floating around the room soon" as i saw a large white hand in a vertical position. also the skull and bones hallucination was accompanied by a spectacular green fume effect.
then i am in a hut which is prepared for a class of us to take a course in English literature but with a difference. it is statistical literature meaning we have to count the occurence of words in the books we read. we have rifles aswell and have to shoot a target bin.
then i am perfroming tests on tripping in a hut by a grassy field. it is going so disasterously wrong that i am laughing very hard. i have a device like a calculator to measure hallucinations. also i have to lock a series of doors. i think it is all very cool, and i am thinking of Geoffrey Potgeiter as an example of someone who is tripping a lot.
