Mystic Europe’s Dream Machine #1
Our minds are pretty strange things when you come to think of it. All that we think, feel, want, fancy, get annoyed at, love, hate and all the rest basically is the result of some electrochemical goings on in the 3 pounds of porridge that is encased inside our skulls. From contemplating the universe to the feeling of hatred mingled with guilt-drenched joy when watching reruns of Kilroy, somehow this all is the result of physical processes in the gelatinous goop that is the human brain. We can all be very proud of the fact that each one of us is actually the most complicated thing we know of that exists in the universe. Well done everyone. It only took 3.5 billion years of evolution but you’re special.
One of the most perplexing facets of the brain is our nightly capacity to dream and no one quite knows why we do this. From dreaming that you’re sitting in an Amsterdam weed café getting blunted with your mum to vividly imagining that you’re embarking upon a career as a beauty technician only to wake up in the spare room with a pounding head after falling down the stairs and you’re wife has had to put a bucket next to the bed to catch the vomit. These nocturnal excursions can range from the ecstatic to the down right disturbing and there seems to be no rhyme nor reason to be found.
Come on mum let's get fucking blunted
UNTIL NOW!!! Recently I was slinking back to my house with the mother of all hangovers and noticed that one of our neighbors was throwing out a load of junk. In this pile of useless but endlessly intriguing items was a little, innocuous looking purple book. I took a closer look and it was entitled “Your Dreams Interpreted” published by Liiv Avon. Not only do these plucky consumer heroes produce an exhaustive array of make up, skin products, fragrances, jewelry and lingerie (pronounced linger-ey) but they also publish a range of books including what must be one of the most seminal and illuminating volumes that the human race has produced to date. Forget Ronny Decartes, Johnny P Sartre, Adolf Huxley and Leroy Tolstoy. Liiv Avon have uncovered some of the deepest truths about the human condition and here they were sitting, discarded, on my street.
I’m not one to keep such wisdom to myself. Knowledge is power and with great power comes great responsibility. So I resolved to use this book to help people understand the confusing and sometimes sexy activities of their nocturnal brains. Starting with the Ransom Note writers and their chums I asked for people to send me their dreams. I donned my technicolored dream coat (Kappa) and reached for the hallowed book. (If you'd like to have the same happen to you send all your nocturnal meanderings here.)
George Whewell – 9 years old, Class 3B, Shifnal Primary School, Shropshire.
My dream was that all my organs fell out. Once I'd put them all back in I found I'd forgotten the spleen. I had to take all of the organs out again so I could put the spleen in first.
Wow George – it’s quite clear to me that your subconscious has a lot to tell you. While it doesn’t specifically deal with all of your organs falling out (you fucking freak) my book tells me that “The body in dreams signifies the individual and all that he (or she) is. In dreams the body often represents the Ego”. It also goes on to say “When a dream concentrates on the abdomen, there is a need to focus on emotions and repressed feelings.” So your mind is desperately trying to get you to focus on your feelings and to tell you that you need to deal with that deeply hidden emotional scar that you can’t speak of to anyone. You know it’s there though don’t you George? Have you still not come to terms with PJ getting blinded in a freak paintballing accident in Byker Grove? Did you find John Craven secretly attractive on News Round but couldn’t tell anyone? Now is the time to face this inner hurt that you’ve been carrying with you all these years.
The only other explanation is that you smoke too much skunk and play too much Operation. If that’s the case you might need to socialize a bit more with other adult humans and knock the biftas on the head for a bit. There’s a good lad.
George needs to get out of the house more and lay off the Mary Jayne
Tonka – Writer for the Ransom Note and WRDM, 13, Yam Yam land (Birmingham)
Last night I dreamt that a hamburger was eating ME!!!!!
Where the fuck do I start with this!? Sorry that was a little unprofessional of me. My book says “being eaten in a dream suggests being attacked by your own – or possibly other people’s – emotions or fears”. It goes on to say “Physical or worldly satisfaction or needs are often shown in dreams as meat”. So it would seem that you feel that you’re being eaten up inside by the sheer weight of your unsatisfied emotional or sensual desires. Don’t let your fears eat you up Tonka, you’re a beautiful butterfly and just need to spread your wings.
I would suggest starting a regular column packed with harsh sexual imagery and dodgy hard house references where you grind out your personal daemons in front of a readership of literally dozens whilst also peppering it with a smattering of genuinely amazing commentary on music and life and industrial techno. Oh and if you run out of material just bung a load of stuff about East Enders in there.
All of Tonka's emotional fears between two pieces of bread
William Wasteman – Writer for the Ransom Note 67, Anglesey North Wales
i (sic) use (sic) to have this recurring nightmare when i (sic) was younger where i (sic) was floating through the air towards this massive black wall of tires that were churning and churning and then i (sic) would get sucked into them and the other side of the tire wall was just an infinite black void that would somehow be the scariest thing in the world and when i (sic) was faced with that void i (sic) usually woke up screaming and covered in sweat.
Well, William, the book tells me that Freud related floating with sexuality but goes on to say that Freud was a sex-obsessed maniac and puts little credence in his opinions. It says that floating indicates your inherent need for freedom. Further to that it says that you are opening yourself to a power beyond your conscious self. The wall of tires clearly denotes that your subconscious childhood ambition was to be a Kwik Fit fitter because no one fits quicker than a Kwik Fit fitter but that you then went on to fritter your calling as a Kwik Fit fitter and now just pick litter and simply feel bitter. The void of blackness shows that in later life you will be drawn towards holes, and the letter K.
Things could have worked out so much better for William.
Want Mystic Europe to analyse your dreams? Send them to him here.
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