tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90647954532941266342024-02-07T13:54:53.586-08:00The Dream Keeper.The Dream Keeper.Hayley Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06693078950619186079noreply@blogger.comBlogger15125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064795453294126634.post-8114377669181903082011-08-02T07:06:00.000-07:002011-08-02T07:06:43.628-07:00The beach.Note: This dream has haunted me for sometime.<br />
<br />
<br />
It is dark. I look out to the ocean which reflects the midnight skies; speckled with the light of the distant stars against dark velvet. I step onto the beach and feel the cool dampness of the sand between my toes. In the distance I see him waiting for me again. This feels real but I know it's a nightmare. He looks over to me and a sense of loss fills me with dread. I walk towards him and he looks frightened.<br />
"I want to come home," he whispers to me, "Why can't I come home?"<br />
These words escape me: "You're dead."<br />
"Why won't you take me home?" He's shaking.<br />
"I want you to come home." I begin to sob, "We miss you."<br />
"I can never come home. I'm sorry for what I did." He turns his face to the darkness and vanishes.Hayley Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06693078950619186079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064795453294126634.post-73296409815156001272011-07-14T07:03:00.001-07:002011-07-14T07:04:07.119-07:00<div class="MsoNormal">I gazed down into the glassy abyss. The water was thick with green algae which made the water shine like an emerald diamond. My toes pierced the calm surface but I withdrew quickly as I saw something stir in the deep. A voice whispered, enticing me into the pond that looked as deep as a lake. </div>Hayley Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06693078950619186079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064795453294126634.post-58491546883613229472011-05-05T10:46:00.000-07:002011-05-07T04:22:03.002-07:00I am sorry I have not posted any dreams for a few months! I have been away and very distracted. I promise to post the next interesting dream I have. Hope you are all well. xxHayley Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06693078950619186079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064795453294126634.post-78926484757815750922011-01-12T04:52:00.000-08:002011-01-12T04:56:44.725-08:00A great opportunity:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw7jDTkMkUrr9M9oIsWqhmACQNl56ld33TxESJMQz5QwfFcaaWiIjPkcf3DQAZhyoIsOCyHEGV7W2TN_d_r0vjofXF6Qc437pEbVrl2e8PhdEt8hI1KdV7l6mk3o33hu1klfX_PUbaGGM/s1600/5262910727_c0f0defef9_z.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw7jDTkMkUrr9M9oIsWqhmACQNl56ld33TxESJMQz5QwfFcaaWiIjPkcf3DQAZhyoIsOCyHEGV7W2TN_d_r0vjofXF6Qc437pEbVrl2e8PhdEt8hI1KdV7l6mk3o33hu1klfX_PUbaGGM/s320/5262910727_c0f0defef9_z.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561282515151695394" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" >There's a giveaway on this lovely fashion blog <a href="http://ahashakeheartbreaker.blogspot.com/2010/12/five-hundred-followers-giveaway.html">Aha Shake Heartbreaker</a>. The items are really beautiful and you really should check out her blog anyway for her outfit posts. Check it out, friends! </span>Hayley Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06693078950619186079noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064795453294126634.post-42009258802381233732011-01-09T13:46:00.000-08:002011-02-14T05:57:04.762-08:00Ghost house<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0fBlwmzyYuCbBiuNEYtjfhYqXq60Y5fDRxdkpLn2FAr2n-ut_dUhai6zNCh_l6kGIhBLxFFwQ4cGTsm56vZ4zzfvVNtxNc5U3Zp18cs86odW6FaSwNFNYH-Bz7czBv8plp9g2FyjCB0k/s1600/2535593144_2905657809_z.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560309298849064690" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0fBlwmzyYuCbBiuNEYtjfhYqXq60Y5fDRxdkpLn2FAr2n-ut_dUhai6zNCh_l6kGIhBLxFFwQ4cGTsm56vZ4zzfvVNtxNc5U3Zp18cs86odW6FaSwNFNYH-Bz7czBv8plp9g2FyjCB0k/s320/2535593144_2905657809_z.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 320px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 262px;" /></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span">I stood outside of a house with white walls. This was my new home. I walked inside and I was immediately frightened of the darkness that was within. I didn’t have anything with me so I just wondered amongst the old furniture. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Then, I could hear a scratching coming from a closed door. I approached the door (but my mind was screaming for me to leave) and opened it. There was a corridor and I could not see the end of it for the darkness. I became aware that something lurked beyond the threshold so I walked down the corridor into the dark. I could not see anything but I could hear something awful- like a deep, rasping intake of breath. I found a box of matches in my pocket and struck a match. There, in the flickering light was a huge black dog. An omen. It’s deep brown-red eyes stared into me. I reached out to touch the dog but it faded into smoke. The fire from the match went out and I was left in the darkness.</span></div>Hayley Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06693078950619186079noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064795453294126634.post-73403672996518306522010-11-16T05:00:00.000-08:002011-01-09T13:46:04.637-08:00Fawn in the woods.<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" >It is snowing and I'm walking through the woods. It's light all around, and I'm walking bear-foot but I can't feel anything. The leaves are a shock of red and gold, but the Evergreens stay forever green. I come to an opening in the woods, a small field where there are a group of little fawns. I slowly approach the fawns but they are not afraid of me. They surround me and nudge me with their noses. I sit with them, stoking them.</span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJCDKukzPRkXoliyff40WeysKVQIao-2ZFzqPkQuXA_E5MYjuVTGwlCQ8KvcyiWsD4ipoLPa5uopYFCgAFdVAGtB4xoNVRCQNp0hTI7QK4E20nDYBfN9ucWn6ntS4Q2x83oWoRR8_Wzoc/s1600/3605228701_e508bd058f.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJCDKukzPRkXoliyff40WeysKVQIao-2ZFzqPkQuXA_E5MYjuVTGwlCQ8KvcyiWsD4ipoLPa5uopYFCgAFdVAGtB4xoNVRCQNp0hTI7QK4E20nDYBfN9ucWn6ntS4Q2x83oWoRR8_Wzoc/s320/3605228701_e508bd058f.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540134199586680834" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGBF3rmtTtFRBmzeRfN7nBqIvZZrG9GaiKe5Lj-eIlgd69juAZSJcVN7Y17JJJp12lqSNuyMPgYK_Qmy7AmctKyWxHYM_TQH2znUGa1-pNjw8U8hP_ueshu7b9ZL3ZDQrPivBPKp8TwzA/s1600/polaroid%252Canimal%252Canimals%252Cbabyart%252Cbambi%252Cdeer-25302cdc60340d962ce6dc5c2b46609e_h.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGBF3rmtTtFRBmzeRfN7nBqIvZZrG9GaiKe5Lj-eIlgd69juAZSJcVN7Y17JJJp12lqSNuyMPgYK_Qmy7AmctKyWxHYM_TQH2znUGa1-pNjw8U8hP_ueshu7b9ZL3ZDQrPivBPKp8TwzA/s320/polaroid%252Canimal%252Canimals%252Cbabyart%252Cbambi%252Cdeer-25302cdc60340d962ce6dc5c2b46609e_h.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540134191630752530" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>Hayley Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06693078950619186079noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064795453294126634.post-23051260217563298632010-11-05T06:51:00.000-07:002010-11-05T07:00:22.621-07:00Stigmata.It is grey and cold. I am standing on a train track, unable to movie. My feet and hands are bleeding.<br /><br />Then warmth illuminates down on me through a sheer light. Michael is the light's name. The light feels old.<br /><br />"Everything will be okay." The light told me.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0s4bwUYgasLWi_cI7gFUGtp-AoSjPLuCmBJWtjjVWKvGL22n6KTKNF87bqlg7Fqy0C03-6j2KOMeHVfXCLOe2KdVSBG2Q2syhLLAvlHNugatuIb__mkBoyZQsBmd2eTMn1ffRnC_kgPs/s1600/nature-landscape-sun-sunset-sushant.jpeg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536065009505872946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0s4bwUYgasLWi_cI7gFUGtp-AoSjPLuCmBJWtjjVWKvGL22n6KTKNF87bqlg7Fqy0C03-6j2KOMeHVfXCLOe2KdVSBG2Q2syhLLAvlHNugatuIb__mkBoyZQsBmd2eTMn1ffRnC_kgPs/s320/nature-landscape-sun-sunset-sushant.jpeg" /></a>Hayley Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06693078950619186079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064795453294126634.post-90020010864494546592010-09-29T03:59:00.000-07:002010-09-29T04:15:10.579-07:00The puppy in the street<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXzf4WQHLa_rAcqmPiFDa58lik5GnkHq_eT6iv2uF4koCBaIdAOgVtGXLiYnh-hzZB8cHNAKCcL9CAMOxEFaJRQ0b0HRVXVTg1rErv4TBwFWvDQjOUXIznF_plb1tRbQ4r8zz5BnUEZV4/s1600/Untitled111.png"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 221px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXzf4WQHLa_rAcqmPiFDa58lik5GnkHq_eT6iv2uF4koCBaIdAOgVtGXLiYnh-hzZB8cHNAKCcL9CAMOxEFaJRQ0b0HRVXVTg1rErv4TBwFWvDQjOUXIznF_plb1tRbQ4r8zz5BnUEZV4/s320/Untitled111.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522292441806074242" /></a><br />I dreamt I was walking down cobbled streets with only glow from street lights leading my way. I wasn't sure where I was going or what I was doing, but then I heard a small whimper. In the distant I could see a small lump shivering under a lamp post. I walked apprehensively towards the thing until I noticed it was a injured puppy. I took off my cardigan and wrapped the animal in it. I began to carry the dog with me, but I could feel it getting heavier and heavier until I wasn't certain I'd be able to carry it anymore.Hayley Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06693078950619186079noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064795453294126634.post-60667293941786095742010-05-16T09:26:00.000-07:002010-05-16T09:35:23.325-07:00Cats.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Z5fxPm1w3mwceiMP_M3VakUYnWF8b12lUlkNSF9i1fE1buPlpW1bSpRUuVl7JsJDo6Z2Cmv7SWAGD6fHSg5AD8cUHeVamhswAtB0QCzVRMK6YLGAfuSEhXgDgtosloLkoyMZSmbk-Pg/s1600/andy-warhol-blue-cat-from-twenty-five-cats.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Z5fxPm1w3mwceiMP_M3VakUYnWF8b12lUlkNSF9i1fE1buPlpW1bSpRUuVl7JsJDo6Z2Cmv7SWAGD6fHSg5AD8cUHeVamhswAtB0QCzVRMK6YLGAfuSEhXgDgtosloLkoyMZSmbk-Pg/s320/andy-warhol-blue-cat-from-twenty-five-cats.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471907304007985906" /></a><br />I dreamt I was wondering through the darkness of York's cobbled streets. It was cold, misty and dark. I eventually came to a back alley that looked familiar; it was my own. I crept to the back gate and let myself into the yard. There were at least 50 cats, of all colours and species, slinking around amongst a mound of rubbish. Ruth my housemate was there.<br />"Maybe," she said "Maybe, we could take care of them all. I'm sure Ron wouldn't mind."<br />I agreed. I love cats. I began to help her carry them into our house. I was already thinking about the mound of cat litter and cat food we'd need to get.Hayley Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06693078950619186079noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064795453294126634.post-82800679927077246272010-05-08T13:39:00.000-07:002010-05-08T14:03:45.782-07:00Time Travel.I dreamt I was a time traveler. I had decided to visit my primary school back in 1995. I saw my old friends out in the yard playing with skipping ropes in their summer blue dresses. I couldn't see myself yet. I wondered into the school, into the infants hall. My shoes squeak and slipped on the polished oak floor. I walked back into the corridor where children ran up and down, to the toilets, laughing and pushing each other. I followed the corridor back out into the yard where I saw myself standing and crying with a boy. I looked a little closer. That boy, with his white blonde hair, his tallness and his frustrating determination was my brother. This memory I was watching was one of many; he was taking his place as my older brother and comforting me. I watched my younger self point out to a child (who must have pushed me or taunted me) and my brother glare and frown. <br />I stood back watching despairingly at this situation realising that I couldn't change anything that would happen in the future. <br />I woke up crying.Hayley Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06693078950619186079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064795453294126634.post-87293353116968997552010-05-02T18:01:00.000-07:002010-05-02T18:26:42.545-07:00Cowboy.I was at the Conservative club near by where I grew up. There was a DJ but no one else was around. After a while of waiting a man walked through the door. He was wearing an expensive suit and his hair was neatly slicked back. He was lean, tanned and handsome. It dawned on me that this guy was Patrick Bateman. I needed to get out, so I climbed out of a window.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiekZzVhtdCdXQqkiWCV2EQREabX0TvG9F8qNPCmtEtN_SMmlaDuKFHL-Myz8AOw96qZlbnoQxHcukL3_zKbtb1teMb8pfu1mzqq7RlixjSGXsrEtEOmzLkQwB-frSH7QxXExudZPSBOaQ/s1600/john-loengard-wooden-picket-fence-surrounding-a-building-built-in-1850-in-a-shaker-community.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiekZzVhtdCdXQqkiWCV2EQREabX0TvG9F8qNPCmtEtN_SMmlaDuKFHL-Myz8AOw96qZlbnoQxHcukL3_zKbtb1teMb8pfu1mzqq7RlixjSGXsrEtEOmzLkQwB-frSH7QxXExudZPSBOaQ/s320/john-loengard-wooden-picket-fence-surrounding-a-building-built-in-1850-in-a-shaker-community.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466848174025311058" /></a>I was facing a beautiful, white American suburban house with a white picket fence. This house was grand, perfect and sinister. I walked into the empty house to look around. I knew that was a bad idea. I crept into the living area where to my utter horror (ironically) a dead boy was hanging from the light. I had to get out, escape. I ran for the front door but it was locked. As I struggled with the handle I heard a thud. The rope had snapped. I stood, locked to the spot in terror. Thud. He was after me. <br />I ran up the stairs. I needed to get to safety. Thud. All the rooms were either locked or empty. Thud. He was getting closer. Finally I broke into one of the rooms. This room was a boy's room, completely decorated in a western themed wallpaper and toys. I ran to the window to get out. Thud. I couldn't open the window. Thud. He's in the room. Thud. A horrible rattling, rasping breathing noise filled the room. Thud. I turned around. The child stood before me white and dead. I was terrified he'd take my soul.Hayley Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06693078950619186079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064795453294126634.post-20096052974822335612010-05-01T01:43:00.000-07:002010-09-29T04:17:44.624-07:00Gathering darkness.I felt intoxicated. I was stumbling down a hallway. I was conscious of a darkness that was gathering around me and I was afraid of it. I began to run, but it felt like I was running from a storm. As I ran through the hallway I vaguely noticed that the walls were covered in doors and clocks of all sizes. I wanted to get out badly. I became dimly aware that maybe, just maybe this was a dream. <br />Finally, I broke out of a door at the end of the corridor and out into the open air. Outside it was nearing dawn. I was at a river bend. The water looked like liquid silver. I began running by the river, feeling free.Hayley Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06693078950619186079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064795453294126634.post-12266867365304969912010-04-25T14:54:00.000-07:002010-04-26T02:00:43.830-07:00Baby.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKEGhNS5nj3OiHMD5mrUleEthKQrE7YwjdQjdCSXCXvRyZ6yf9ESMAJDpAAHGfjOd9ooFdduZ22Ca1JlaC0SqbDhXI5xJ3Aaz5PlC5LHgxe7he_GsW5Yx_Z1QNlIjRI7suPkvC0_cyREo/s1600/peter_with_fairies.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 251px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKEGhNS5nj3OiHMD5mrUleEthKQrE7YwjdQjdCSXCXvRyZ6yf9ESMAJDpAAHGfjOd9ooFdduZ22Ca1JlaC0SqbDhXI5xJ3Aaz5PlC5LHgxe7he_GsW5Yx_Z1QNlIjRI7suPkvC0_cyREo/s320/peter_with_fairies.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464200193529031762" /></a><br />I was wondering through the woods close to where I live. It was a clear spring day, crisp and fresh. I came to the skeleton of the abandoned cottage, and in the green lying in the moss was a baby. The baby was white like snow, and for one awful moment I thought the baby was dead, but it opened it's eyes and smiled at me. I picked up the baby and carried it with me to the beach.<br />It was empty and quiet at the beach, I sat with the baby for a while until I was aware that my brother was there. He smiled and told me the baby was a gift. I asked him what I should call it.Hayley Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06693078950619186079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064795453294126634.post-54116663383596859502010-04-24T05:11:00.000-07:002010-04-24T05:19:47.896-07:00Trains.There was a sheer white sky out and all I was thinking about was snow. My father was ahead of me on the train track we were following.<br />"Mark said that the trains don't run along here anymore." My father shouted. For some reason it was difficult to hear him. There was a noise like waves crashing against pebbles.<br />"Where are we going?" I called to my father.<br />"To see Mark."<br />I was filled with dread. I hate graveyards. We continued to walk along the track when suddenly a siren began to screech out of speakers. A train is coming and I was screaming out to my father to get off the track. I was running down hill towards a forest thinking about my father. Somehow I knew he was fine.<br />I walking deep into the woods, bare foot and thinking I must get to university on time.Hayley Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06693078950619186079noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9064795453294126634.post-49792089567492113332010-04-24T05:05:00.001-07:002010-04-24T05:06:17.243-07:00A record of dreams.I'm a vivid dreamer. I can have up to three dreams a night. I reckon it's time to keep a record of these dreams.Hayley Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06693078950619186079noreply@blogger.com0