Illucid Dreaming

I seldom dream. When I do, it is either because I am unwell or because I have an unusual load passing through the system. Last night, I had a triptych of rather peculiar linked dreams.

In the first part, I was hunting down a little colony of exiled teachers buried deep in a part of Atlantis long bypassed by modern development. When I found them, they were all deeply involved in theological studies and reluctant to return to civilisation. They had nice little two-room apartments with a large shared common space. One moaned that she only had two beds in her apartment. Another was out, but had left cheerful flowers and a collage of Teachers' Day cards mounted on the wall. One, a Chinese-speaking math teacher of rugged mien, was engaged in deep (well, baritone) discussions with a certain geographical doctor.

In the second part, I was with Gnomus after a particularly gruelling week. He had suggested we take the local transit to the east coast for food. I countered that that was way too distant and suggested the swamplands in the west. On the way there, we admired a lot of Moorish architecture and found ourselves chasing after elusive ex-students who were playing truant from the Eighth Circle of Hall. Yes, 'Hall'. It was very much a 'two guys decide to bum around' movie.

The third part was truly odd. I dreamt we were all at a campfire where jolly Filipino songleaders were teaching us to sing a song about a German bumboat which went up the river looking for lost exiles and never came back. They kept teaching us the refrain, and I woke up with it cycling through my brain. It went, "Bumboat Sadtler, went up river, never came back again; bumboat Sadtler, went up river, never came back again." I have no idea what that refers to or where it came from. It was that kind of dream.

I suppose I really must have more things on my mind than I consciously think I think about.