Dream dictionary: phantastic dreams amp dream meanings

Most writers and artists live in dreamland. In their hours of wakefulness, Phantasmagoria comes to them; in their hours of sleep they go to Phantasmagoria. Pursued and pursuing, in bed, at work or at play, they are never free from fantasies. In my novels my imagination runs riot, I make no attempt to suppress it. I write of the fantastic the weird, the occult; for at night I move, I breathe, I think in phantom land. So often have I visited this same phantom land that I have made a map of it, naming its isles, seas, mountains, lakes, forests, rivers, and plains. With many of the smaller landmarks, too, I am familiar, and I know what each turn and twist of certain roads have in store for me. Everything is portrayed to me so vividly that I believe my spiritual body, separating itself from my material body,…

Soon after getting into bed one night (in January, 1908), I fell into a deep, blank sleep, from which I was abruptly torn to find myself at the entrance to a forest, a forest I knew, by sight, only too well. It was the forest of Trouble, and, willy-nilly, I had to enter it. On all sides, leviathan trees of the blackest ebony shot up hundreds of feet heavenwards, permitting only the feeblest rays of light to penetrate through their forked branches. What species of trees they were I do not know, for nothing I had seen outside my dreams resembled them. Their trunks were smooth, and in their mirror-like surfaces I could see reflected the workings of their innermost organs, whilst the rising and falling of their hollow voices was wafted down to me from on high, like the murmuring of wind from some mountain top. Nimble…

I dreamed one night I left my material body, which I saw lying stretched before me on the bed, and that after patting it affectionately on the head; I mounted the window-sill and dived head first into the blackness of the night. Down, down, down I went, the cold air whistling and humming about my ears till I thought the drums would burst.Down, down, eternally down, till all became hushed and silent as the grave, and I perceived to my amazement that the earth was fast disappearing in the distance, and that I was rapidly approaching one of the other planets. Dropping gently, I alighted on a tiny hillock, and discovered I was on an islet that lay in the midst of a sparkling, amethyst ocean. All around me were flowers; pink and white roses, pansies, forget-me-nots, carnations, and many others known only in Dreamland. A breeze, laden…

I often dream of the same town. Sometimes all the inhabitants appear wearing costumes of one colour, sometimes all appear wearing costumes of another colour, sometimes they all appear clad in black. Having dreamed one of these dreams quite recently, I append the following description:I found myself approaching the town from the direction of a desert. It was a glorious evening, and the walls and windows of the houses shone like burnished gold in the ruddy glow of the slanting sunbeams. But what impressed me on this occasion, over and above all, was the silence; it seemed assumed for a purpose and to be part of a plot, in which everyone and everything participated, and I had the uncomfortable feeling that I was to be the victim of some unpleasant hoax. I cast my eyes in all directions — there was not a soul to be seen —…

…fears are groundless, when, with an unexpectedness that makes my heart almost leap out of my body, every door opens simultaneously and scores of long, yellow feet appear, which, after striking the ground three times in unison, are hurriedly withdrawn. An interval of some seconds follows, after which the doors are once more opened and the most curious, long, thin, yellow faces, half human and half animal, are thrust through with a mechanical and mirthless ” Ha, ha, ha!”These also disappear from view, the doors shutting simultaneously as before. A vast number of footsteps are now heard ascending the staircase, and, almost before I have time to move aside, dozens of tall figures clad in the most fantastic of tight-fitting yellow garments come racing up, and, ranging themselves in two opposite rows right along the corridor, all stamp their feet to the tune of a deep intonated ” Hock, hock,…

Some time ago I dreamed I left my body, and, after travelling at a great rate through the still night air, arrived at the sphere I designate phantomania. The spot where I settled down was a lonely railway cutting, and I at once remarked on the loud moaning and sighing of the wind through the telegraph wires, and the curious jar, jar, jar of the iron railroad; and the metals which grew less and less like ordinary metals the longer I looked at them, suddenly became imbued with life, and, rising on end, rushed blindly hither and thither and then lay down again. Presently I heard whistle of an approaching train. Nearer, nearer, and nearer it came, and as it whizzed past me all the passengers put their heads out of the windows simultaneously, and burst into peal upon peal of mad, hilarious laughter. There was then a…

I have, over and over again in my dreams, visited a certain district when the weather has been fine; but the other night I was there during a storm, and the experience, though interesting, was not too agreeable. I was in a hut on a wide, vast desert traversed by a broad river, and bounded by a long chain of mountains on the one side, and on the other by a forest of pines. On my arrival all was hushed and still; the air soft and sweet; the sky clear and blue; typical in every respect of an ideal summer day. The change was brought about in a totally unprecedented manner. The blue of the heavens was suddenly metamorphosed into a vivid violet, and the wind from the mountain tops, shrieking and roaring like ten million devils across the plain, converted the hitherto placid waters of the rivers…

Huntsmen not infrequently figure in my dreams. On July 1st, 1909, I dreamed I was standing on the veranda of a house, overlooking a neatly kept lawn and a broad white carriage drive, beyond which was a spinney. It was a beautiful evening, and every object stood out with startling perspicuity in the powerful moonlight. Whilst I was gazing admiringly at the transcendental loveliness of the landscape, I felt a soft hand laid caressingly on my arm, and, on looking round, saw a lady clad in the costume of the middle ages. As she often figures in my dreams, I was in no degree astonished at her appearance. ”How romantic we are!” she said, with a smile; “I was quite under the impression that lingering so long in a great city had spoilt you for the pleasures of the country. With me it is too much country, I…

One night, as far back as 1894, 1 dreamed I was in a desert in Phantomnia, and that bounding towards me from a distance, came a white kangaroo decorated with large, brown spots that looked as if they had been recently painted, and which imparted to it a wooden appearance. It came right up to me, and eyeing me in the friendliest manner possible, said, “Have you seen my mother?” “No!” I replied, “I have not seen anyone here for the last two years, because it is fully that time since I visited these parts. What is she like?” The kangaroo was greatly perplexed. “Why,” he said, “To tell you the truth I haven’t the slightest idea. I thought, perhaps, you might know; but, of course; since you have been absent for so long, it is very obvious you are the last person I should have asked. Good-bye.”…