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I love my subconscious.
Jun. 5th, 2004 01:37 amIt produces marvellous entertainment for me every night. And I even remember a lot of it, most of the time!
Today (or rather, tonight) I was in a hotel that seemed to go on forever. It had a late 19th/early 20th century feel - sort of art nouveau, with lots of statues of graceful women in flowing robes. Everything in it was huge, beautiful, and very exclusive. It could have been a palace, but I knew it was a hotel. It had ballrooms, one on top of the other, I don't know how many. You started at the bottom and progressed upwards, through holes in the ceiling/floor. In some rooms there were stairs. In some, there was no gravity and you could just float upwards. In the last room, there was a high, narrow waterfall on one wall, flanked by statues, that opened as you floated towards it through the air.
There was a room that was one wide set of white marble stairs from wall to wall. There was a room that was crossed by long, narrow, cast iron bridges under the ceiling.
Outside the hotel there was a bustling, chaotic city of north-west European feel - half London, half Paris, perhaps. I walked long winding roads with vaguely English terraced houses and little gardens up hills. I looked down at the city from the top of a hill - from a sloping rock on top of a hill, next to a big, dilapidated house. There were people there who were vaguely sad, vaguely threatening, but then seemed to adopt me and showed me around the city. They couldn't understand why I was staying at the expensive hotel; they were living in a cheap hostel at the foot of the hill and wanted me to join them. I tried to explain about the zero-gravity ballrooms, but they didn't understand the attraction.
Then we rode the subway a lot. Sometimes it wasn't the subway, but simply a train. Sometimes it rode on elevated rails high above the city. Sometimes you had to climb down endlessly winding wide staircases with green tiles on the walls to get to the trains. Sometimes random people would stop me in the street or on the stairs, hand me parcels with books I had never heard of, which had been sent to them in my name. They complained about getting mail in my name, and about having to carry these parcels around to hand them to me in the streets.
I began to worry that someone had hacked my amazon account.
Uhm.
It made sense when I dreamed it.
***
In a less surreal sphere, I met Dan and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elliejane today and had a really nice evening with them. I'm getting better at understanding Dan, as well - and when I don't understand him, it's reassuring to see that neither does elliejane, who's a native speaker, after all. We've decided that Dan speaks his own dialect of English - you could call it 'Danish', I guess.
Today (or rather, tonight) I was in a hotel that seemed to go on forever. It had a late 19th/early 20th century feel - sort of art nouveau, with lots of statues of graceful women in flowing robes. Everything in it was huge, beautiful, and very exclusive. It could have been a palace, but I knew it was a hotel. It had ballrooms, one on top of the other, I don't know how many. You started at the bottom and progressed upwards, through holes in the ceiling/floor. In some rooms there were stairs. In some, there was no gravity and you could just float upwards. In the last room, there was a high, narrow waterfall on one wall, flanked by statues, that opened as you floated towards it through the air.
There was a room that was one wide set of white marble stairs from wall to wall. There was a room that was crossed by long, narrow, cast iron bridges under the ceiling.
Outside the hotel there was a bustling, chaotic city of north-west European feel - half London, half Paris, perhaps. I walked long winding roads with vaguely English terraced houses and little gardens up hills. I looked down at the city from the top of a hill - from a sloping rock on top of a hill, next to a big, dilapidated house. There were people there who were vaguely sad, vaguely threatening, but then seemed to adopt me and showed me around the city. They couldn't understand why I was staying at the expensive hotel; they were living in a cheap hostel at the foot of the hill and wanted me to join them. I tried to explain about the zero-gravity ballrooms, but they didn't understand the attraction.
Then we rode the subway a lot. Sometimes it wasn't the subway, but simply a train. Sometimes it rode on elevated rails high above the city. Sometimes you had to climb down endlessly winding wide staircases with green tiles on the walls to get to the trains. Sometimes random people would stop me in the street or on the stairs, hand me parcels with books I had never heard of, which had been sent to them in my name. They complained about getting mail in my name, and about having to carry these parcels around to hand them to me in the streets.
I began to worry that someone had hacked my amazon account.
Uhm.
It made sense when I dreamed it.
***
In a less surreal sphere, I met Dan and
elliejane today and had a really nice evening with them. I'm getting better at understanding Dan, as well - and when I don't understand him, it's reassuring to see that neither does elliejane, who's a native speaker, after all. We've decided that Dan speaks his own dialect of English - you could call it 'Danish', I guess.
