It was going to be the end of the world.
Dark grey brown skies.
People lining up on roofs of their buildings so they can jump one after the other.
I was seeing it all happen with my mom from my flat window.
Then the ground, the streets, the roads started cracking and flaking and fire and magma would rise through the cracks.
An ellipsis.
In the morning the end of the world had not came and there was sun and people were happy and bartenders were offering everyone drinks to celebrate life.
Then I was in a Paris street getting lost and falling through floors into appartments.
End.

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Rêve de la nuit du 7 au 8 mars 2012
Ce rêve se déroule pendant la période où j'étais au lycée Bernard Palissy à Agen. Les infrastructures (celles des établissements que j'ai fréquentés à Agen en particulier, mais pas que) ont eu sur moi un certain impact puisqu'ils sont souvent déformés dans mes rêves, transformés, remixés en mode industriel par l'architecte de mon subconscient (ou hyperconscient?), comme par exemple ce rêve que j'ai fait il y a plusieurs années dans lequel les escaliers des salles de permanence du collège sainte-foy avaient pris des proportions Dignes d'un dessin d'Escher, vertigineux, et non sans rappeller également l'expérience steampunk-gravitationnelle qu'était travailler dans la Tour Eiffel.
Bref dans le rêve de la nuit dernière je cherchais à rejoindre mon ami du lycée Pablo qui était en compagnie d'un autre moi. Ils étaient dans une salle de permanence pour travailler. Cette sallede permanence était dans une tour (jamais vue de l'extérieur) sombre, tout en haut. Pour accéder à cette salle de permanence, il fallait gravir plusieurs éléments du décor, caissons de ciment, grillages épais de fer rouillé, le tout dans une quasi obscurité et surtout, extrêment sale - recouvert de siècles de poussière noire, comme les recoins les plus dégoûtants du métro parisien.
Après cette escalade, au sommet de l'intérieur de cette tour dégueulasse (un endroit interdit aux étudiants, surement, pénétré par effraction?), je rejoignis les deux personnes dans la salle de permanence, en fait matérialisée par des grillages plus ou moins épais dont même le sol semblait fait d'un enchevêtremen de métal et de béton recouvert de crasse industrielle.
La deuxième partie du rêve est plus floue, elle implique une poursuite en course/voiture accompagné d'un personnage de manga féminin aussi présente sous forme de jouet en plastique à son effigie.
#imisshighschoolexploration #ireadtoomuchkdick #industrialdustinmybrainandlungs
#whoistheotherme

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Reve de la nuit du 4 au 5 mars 2012

C'est un endroit où j'ai l'impressiom d'être déja allé dans d'autres rêves, à défaut d'exister dans la réalité (mais même ça, j'en suis pas sûr).
Il se trouve dans le sud ouest de la france, entre Castillonnès et Agen.
Lorsqu'on arrive, on doit garer la voiture et marcher car la végétation est sauvage. On est accueillis par d'énormes racines marron et gris qui jonchent le sol et se mêlent aux constructions des hommes, chemins, petits ponts. Et puis on arrive au bas de la colline (qui est plutot une mini montagne). Certaines personnes montent verticalement, via un escalier tombant un peu en ruines (les marches, de gros blocs de bois, ne tiennent que par de longues vis rouillées et s'y balancent un peu. Mais c'est mieux de monter sur le chemin qui fait le tour de la colline, moins ardu. On monte et, arrivés à un certain niveau, les branches et racines font place à des tuyaux rouillés sérrés les uns contre les autres, qui gouttent et vous grattent la tête. Un peu dégueu. On doit pour progresser entrer dans une sorte de cabine en béton assez délabrée, où officient deux soldats de l'onu ou une organisation dans le genre. Des gens tres pauvres, couverts parfois de bandages, sont au sol et se tiennent plus ou moins debout, grattant leurs blessures. En passant à travers eux pour avancer, on se frotte à eux involontairement et avec un peu de souffrance partagée. On monte. Un peu plus haut, nous traversons une chambre un peu plus luxueuse, que partagent deux jeunes filles aux cheveux longs. On devine qu'elles se chamaillent souvent. On continue et on arrive finalement au sommet : unne ancienne église majestueuse devant laquelle une allée bordée de deux rangées d'arbres nous propose d'y entrer. Son architecture massive mais également partiellement démolie sont impressionants, ainsi que la maniere dont la végétation s'y est incrustée depuis des siècles. En fait, l'église est presque au bord de précipices de chaque coté excepté pour le chemin qui y mène. C'est de ce sommet que j'ai deja revé.
Nous n'y entrons pas.
Mon reveil sonne, je me reveille, je me rendors. La deuxieme partie du reve, tres courte, se passe chez ma maman, nous sommes a table dans ma chambre (?) avec ma tante B et ses enfants. Je demande à ma mère le nom de ce lieu (celui qui est récurrent, le haut de la colline avec l'eglise), elle me l'ecritsur un papier et me montre une photo en noir et blanc de moi la bas avec des gens donc un petit enfant tenant dans sa main ma camera super 8 eumig mini, j'essaye de prendre en photo avec mon iphone cette photo et le moi de la photo cligne des yeux au moment ou je prends la photo.
A mon reveil (mince encore en retard pour aller bosser), la photo n'est pas dans mon iphone, évidemment.
#recurring #floatingworlds #vegeation #despair #alteredstates #jamestownroots

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Dream of the night of the 21st to 22nd feb 2012

Dreams are a very selfish thing. When you dream, the dream worlds always begins and ends based on what you see or hear or feel or experience, making the external world outside the dream non-existent. It is as if you are a god, making the whole dream universe come to life and revolve around you, creating a world, creating objects that are going to be interacted with by you only.
In the first part of my last dream, i was in Grenoble and found all my friends from when i was in school in the suburbs of paris right before we moved to the countryside in 1990. These guys were my good friends but moving away from them made me lose them. So in my dream I found out that they had all started this course in a school in Grenoble (don't ask me why but i've always gad a spiritual connecion with this town) and they were all gathered together plus some people i didn't know, and i was looking at all of them and reconizing their traits, attitudes, voices, everything i remember about them had just grown to a different age in the normal way people evolve and grow older. I did not interact with them, they were just here and i was with them - 22 years after I last saw them.

The second part of the dream was me in a school or library, maybe a school i attended or a high school or such, maybe even a workplace where i used to work. This place had a bookshelf with numerous books on it, and on the side of the shelves were tiny labels I had hand-written. They had been handwritten by me quite a long time ago, the ink had faded and seeped in the veins of the paper with the humidity, but i could instantly recognize my handwriting. It was me going back to this bookshelf after a long time, and recognizing a mark i had left there a long time ago. A literary mark, linked to the knowledge of the books inside the shelf. The remains of some of the self-made road signs that help us evolve in a given environment.
Maybe I dreamt about that because i spilled some tea on my working papers at work last week, and it made the ink kind f fade and age at the same time. Maybe because i wonder if i will be remembered for my handwriting or the doodles or notes i take on object or walls.

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Dans ce reve je rendais visite a ma soeur mais elle n'était pas chez elle. Je trouvais donc ses enfants en train de manger dans la salle a manger, mais il y a un nouvel enfant que je ne connais pas, qui a une tête énorme et a qui il manque l'œil gauche et le nez, dans une espèce de cicatrice ou de malformation. Les enfants m'expliquent que c'est leur nouveau frère et qu'il recevra bientot une transplantation du visage. Je remarque que la fille de ma soeur, agée de dix ans, a une cicatrice autour de l'oeil gauche et autour du nez au même endroit, qui la défigure. Les enfants me montrent la greffe qui sera posée sur leur frère, car cette greffe est posée sur le rebord de la fenetre. Il s'agit d'un morceau de visage, mou. Puis ma soeur et son mari arrivent et me disent bonjour. Je donne à ma sœur de la salade mais elle fait tomber un morceau de broccoli.

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Current Location: France, Île-de-France, Paris

Now.
In the first dream, I was in the house of the parents of someone I used to be friends with, but this house never actually existed.
Set in the suburbs of Paris, this house was old - probably built in the mid-1900s, and with warm colors on the inside, dark green paint on the walls, brownish rugs.
So this ex-friend of mine and other friends were there hanging out there, when these two social services people rang at the door. They said they needed to inspect the house. They were both dressed in blue, with a blue baseball hat, probably american-inspired (like FedEx people kind of).
They inspected the house with us coming with them, and led us to a dark hallway with wooden planks on the walls and neon lights. They knocked on one of the wooden planks and pulled it out, revealing a secret staircase no one ever knew was there.
The staircase was going downstairs, so we all went downstairs, and discovered a very big apartment there. A hallway was covered in gold paint with dark gold flower-ornaments motifs on it. A bathroom had been painted in shiny blue paint and all the plumbine was from the 1950s. It was as bright and clean and functional as if someone had lived there just weeks ago.
This place was wonderful.
End of the first dream.
In the second dream I was coming back to my father's house where I used to live and where my brother and his wife and kids now live. I was being careful to go there when they are not in the house, on holidays or something. I had my old key that still worked. I went downstairs as soon as I was in the house. The house had been renewed during several months when my brother moved there, so all that remained of my father, grandmother, mother, and basically anything old and vintage disappeared then. But when I went down the staircase to the garage, some old orange wallpaper from the sixties that I loved was still there. I went to the second garage and then to the second basement in which sometimes wine was kept. It was much bigger than in reality there, like a huge empty basement full of junk - rusty metal poles, piles of dirty ash, dirt, sawdust. There was light coming from above. I noticed some old broken things from the past on the floor, and on my left, three broken pianos of different sizes piled up on top of each other. They were all different, one had very small keys and another one had keys of unusual colors, but they were all three in a really bad condition. I wondered if I was going to take them with me, or break them into little bits to turn them into sculptures and give them a form of post-death dignity to make up for not having been able to save them from destruction.
But I didn't do any of that, instead i moved the top one aside a little bit, sat in front of it in the darkness, and started playing like I never played before. Music was coming out of my fingers naturally. It was an intense moment when the past and the present were merged into music.
End of the dream.
Third dream takes place in the building I live in in Chatelet, first district of Paris. I came home and someone had put a lot of stuff in the trash that I thought was interesting to recycle. Until I realized that it was my belongings that my girlfriend had thrown out of the flat and into the trash because she was angly for some reason (now, she's really sweet in real life, she would never do that). I was a bit shocked. She said she was sorry and I called a couple friends to help me put things back in order and watch that nobody stole my things while we were doing that.
End of the third and lamest dream I had last night.

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Current Location: France, Île-de-France, Paris

I was in one of the French islands, Reunion for example.
It was beautiful. There was just this one house-building thing made of wood. In the first room I got in, and I saw that american actor Kevin Bacon was there, so I said "wow, you're Kevin Bacon", I took a picture with him, he was like "yeah" - he was so much taller than me, then he left (I have no idea what he was doing there, or what the connections betwen this house and the world of cinema are).
Then I set out for a walk and it was beautiful outside, I remember taking pictures of the gleaming sun as it was setting. I was walking on a trail of earth that had been tilled recently or made bare somehow. It was very easy and frequent to have your leg or oot swallowed by the soft earth.
I saw something that was shining on the floor and it was golden coins of the local imaginary currency. There were several of them in a pile that i picked up and pocketed. They were very thick (probably the same thickness/width ratio that UK pound coins have).
As i walked back to this wooden house, everything turned black and white and there were planks under my feet, kind of like the ones you find on certain pedestrian bridges. I walked past Bette Davis and Joan Crawford, who was dressed in red. Bette Davis was talking to me and I was ignoring her. Joan Crawford was smoking while looking at the sea under the night sky and ignoring everything else.
Then everything went back to normal so to speak. In the wooden house, I started looking at the coins I had picked up. The first one had a beautiful octopus carved on oit. The second one had a caricature of a black person, which made me sad and think about colonialism still echoing now. I was going to review the other coins, but then someone in the room asked me "when was the last time you checked your emails?" And pointed at a piece of paper on the wall. I got closer to look at it and saw that they had printed out my last email. It looked like a spam "we will come give you what we owe you within 24 hours" and I thought it was really a hoax. I thought normal or not alarming that people were printing my emails, though. But then i noticed this very small man in a corner of the room. He walked to me and asked me if I was who I was, I said yes, I am. He was also a hunchback. He told me that I should have read my emails as he walked to his tiny car that was outside (now the outside kind of looked like a street). He told me that the screenplay I had written had been sold, and that he came here on the behalf of a friend of mine who is also a screenwriter. He would agree to be my agent, and get the money to me, and avoid legal problems for me, and was also ready to help me leave now.
I went back into the wooden bungalow to pick up my things and leave. My belongings included little toys, like a wrapper full of little plastic humans. I was taking everything in my arms and spilling it in his car.
End of the dream.

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Current Location: France, Île-de-France, Paris

Today I ran into Marie-Chantal.
I used to work with her.
I hadn't seen her in at least 6 years but she hadn't changed a bit.
It's hard to tell how old she is. She's probably somewhere between 50 and 65, but with a lot of wrinkles.
It's hard to tell how old she is also because of her style. Long fake blond hair that look like plastic. Fake fur coats that look like plastic. Lots of pinkish makeup. Very skinny.
Marie-Chantal is not your average grandmother.
We exchanged a few words and she said she was in good health, which, although I couldn't see it beyond the makeup, I believed to be the truth.
Speaking with her always felt like speaking to a 20 year old trapped in an older body. Not just the style, but the voice, the way she speaks, everything. A bad case of Neverland.

In other news, she's moving to California in December to pursue her career as a rap singer.

Current Location: France, Paris

In the tech lab of a school. People on computers, neon lights.
Outside, darker and darker evening lights. Then a sky made of black low clouds, touching the highest buildings out the window.
Then towers of dark-yellow bricks and of ancient architecturs flew slowly above the ground, to then land on the ground. Life forms run out of them in swarms.
Neon lights flickering.

 (The entirety of which is not recalled)
There was an old bar under repair which was located on the right of Notre Dame. The name of the bar was Vedeer (i think it's the name of a musician but I'm not sure). The typo for the front of the bar was yellow slanted handwritten type capitals.
On the inside all was really broken, paint peeling off the walls, dangling neon lights. I only remember this one dark hallway as if it was night when I was outside and day when I looked at it from the outside.
My cousin Raphaelle was there with her boyfriend (no name or face recalled). They said we'll show you some tricks and I watched : he started running really fast and went so fast he could climb along the walls and ceiling and run in loops like that. Then she said she could do something cool too and pulled out a motorbike and did the same thing, drove so fast she could drive up the walls and ceilings in loops.

Then I walked outside and it was broad daylight again. I ran into this group of girls from high-school, Pauline, Marie, Flore with who I'm still friends but that i haven't seen hang out with each other since then. Flore's leg was deceased kind-of, chunks of her leg were missing as if a flesh-eating virus had had its way. But it wasn't bloody the holes were dry and light-colored. When I saw this I walked away from them.

In the third part of my dream there was this middle-age-type staircase that people were climbing up but I stayed downstairs and looked at te signs advertising whatever touristic sight was up there. Maybe it was Notre Dame.

This is all I can recall.

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