The week has been subdued, but also quite unnerving. Each
night now we’ve had the same dream – The Manor as a God given sanctuary
appearing over a hill. In the morning I wake up feeling safe, as if the walls
are protecting me and nothing can harm me here, but then the realisation comes
of what that means to the rest of the world if we’re the last bolthole. Nothing
has happened yet, when I saw it Saturday the TV was still talking about Barclays,
Libor and Andy Murray – while we sat together and talked about the end of the
world. But surely there’s a way we can still warn people what’s about to
happen. Surely there’s some chance we can make a difference.
For now Dexter Phillips doesn’t feel the same and is cutting
off our internet access and removing our televison and radio to keep the world out – to “allow us to get used to
what’s about to happen’. Everyone is going along with it for now, but there is
a dark mood amongst us.
I will blog again when I get chance.
Terror Dreams by F.R. Jameson
A year in the life in 2012
Monday, 9 July 2012
Monday, 9th of July
Labels:
apocalypse,
doomsayers,
dream guru,
dreams,
Hell's Secrets,
horror,
novel,
The Manor,
Wales
Saturday, 7 July 2012
Friday, 6th of July
Despite Dexter Phillips’ calm demeanour, in spite
of the casualness with which he delivered the news, the room fell silent at
that point. We had come here to help after all, to put ourselves in a position
where we could alert the rest of the world what is about to happen. The reason
we came here was to be the warning beacon, the recue guard. Instead Dexter
Phillips was making it clear to us that his vision saw this commune as the life-raft,
we are the few chosen ones who will escape and set up a new world beyond the
one we have now. Everything we have ever known will be gone, everyone we have
ever loved will be dead (or now a slavering maniac, unrecognisable from the
people they were before) and we would be asked to stride forward into this
brave new world – as what? A group of Adams and Eves? Colonists from the past
trying to carve out the future?
I think Dexter Phillips was surprised that when he delivered his talk with an almost breezy demeanour, some people began to cry.
I think Dexter Phillips was surprised that when he delivered his talk with an almost breezy demeanour, some people began to cry.
Thursday, 5 July 2012
Thursday, 5th of July
We will have everything we need at The Manor,
Dexter Phillips told us. The house has its own generator, and there is a well
in the garden and livestock on the grounds. There is the of course the slight chance
of them being stolen or sabotaged in some way, but we’ve seen those in the
world after the incident (that is the phrase he used – ‘the incident’) and such
acts of calculated terror are clearly beyond them. We would be safe in The
Manor, we could thrive in The Manor, and we could greet the world beyond on our
terms.
All we have to do is get our heads around the fact that everyone we’ve ever known, and everything we’ve ever known, is gone.
All we have to do is get our heads around the fact that everyone we’ve ever known, and everything we’ve ever known, is gone.
Labels:
apocalypse,
dream guru,
dreams,
horror,
The Manor,
Wales
Wednesday, 4 July 2012
Wednesday, 4th of July
Dexter Phillips’ message was stark, but
delivered with a calm which seemed to me later almost eerie. He was the one
person standing in the room – the rest of us sit on the floor – and he moved
among us like a hip, young university lecturer addressing an informal study
group. His tone had that quality too, conversational, casual, as if what we
were discussing was not that big a deal at all. Or maybe that’s unfair, perhaps
there was a slight sharpness to his tone – but no more than a weatherman letting
the great British public know there was a nasty storm on the way.
The end of the world is coming, he told us, and we are the ones best prepared.
The end of the world is coming, he told us, and we are the ones best prepared.
Labels:
apocalypse,
commune,
dream guru,
dreams,
horror,
Wales,
weatherman
Tuesday, 3 July 2012
Tuesday, 3rd of July
The world won’t listen to what it doesn’t want to hear, Dexter Phillips tells us. Ask any environmentalist, ask any doomsayer about the economy – people do not want to listen to anything that affects the status quo, to anything which might disrupt their comfort.
But what we have to tell them is huge, the news we have to announce to the world is immense – and for that reason alone it won’t be listened to. The powers that be will just see this strange little community, a commune, a strange cult. You can see the words which will be thrown about already, we’ll just be another band of cranks. Even those out there who are similarly having these dreams will be encouraged to laugh at us. Nothing will happen if we tell the world, nothing all.
As such we have to accept that what we’re dreaming is going to happen and there’s nothing we can do to stop it. And with that in mind we have to be in the right place when it happens.
But what we have to tell them is huge, the news we have to announce to the world is immense – and for that reason alone it won’t be listened to. The powers that be will just see this strange little community, a commune, a strange cult. You can see the words which will be thrown about already, we’ll just be another band of cranks. Even those out there who are similarly having these dreams will be encouraged to laugh at us. Nothing will happen if we tell the world, nothing all.
As such we have to accept that what we’re dreaming is going to happen and there’s nothing we can do to stop it. And with that in mind we have to be in the right place when it happens.
Labels:
apocalypse,
doomsayers,
dream guru,
dreams,
economic crisis,
end of the world,
environment,
horror,
London,
premonition,
Wales
Monday, 2 July 2012
Monday, 2nd of July
The same
dream two nights in a row for all of us. Again we all woke up having seen
visions of The Manor appearing over the hill as a haven, a sanctuary. Once more
this caused a buzz of excitement around the dining room in the morning. As
having spent the last few weeks discussing the same dreams we’ve all endured
for months on end, this is something exciting.
Only Dexter Phillips was unperturbed, only he retained his calm. Finally Elvina/Denise asked why – and his reply was astonishing.
Apparently he’s been having this very dream for months, seeing this house as a sanctuary – and that was one of the reasons why he brought us here to Wales. He has determined that London is not safe (indeed no cities are), that it’s tainted. As he explained this to us, he even pointed to me and said that the same thing is in my book, a sense of London as a place filled with danger and fear. That’s why he wanted us to leave. Not that we could all be together in the country necessarily, but so we could all be safe from London.
We are the chosen ones he told us, and so we have to be together and protected away from those in the towns and cities.
Only Dexter Phillips was unperturbed, only he retained his calm. Finally Elvina/Denise asked why – and his reply was astonishing.
Apparently he’s been having this very dream for months, seeing this house as a sanctuary – and that was one of the reasons why he brought us here to Wales. He has determined that London is not safe (indeed no cities are), that it’s tainted. As he explained this to us, he even pointed to me and said that the same thing is in my book, a sense of London as a place filled with danger and fear. That’s why he wanted us to leave. Not that we could all be together in the country necessarily, but so we could all be safe from London.
We are the chosen ones he told us, and so we have to be together and protected away from those in the towns and cities.
Labels:
apocalypse,
commune,
dream guru,
dreams,
Hell's Secrets,
horror,
London,
novel,
The Manor,
Wales
Sunday, 1 July 2012
Sunday, 1st of July
A new dream!
It is afterwards. After the object has fallen from the sky, after the virus has infected the majority of the human race. I am staggering in the darkness through the countryside. My legs ache and my feet are blistered, as if I’ve been running for days. In the distance I wonder if I can hear these ‘new’ people, the infected ones, but in my rational mind I know that they mainly stay in the towns and cities – better pickings there. They are not going to pursue me over fields and hillocks, and yet still I run.
It’s incredibly dark. Of course it’s been dark for a long time now, but the countryside is like stumbling through sheer blackness. I have fallen and tumbled so many times, I even think my shoulder might be fractured. But still I go on, even though I know there’s only a small chance I’m being chased, it’s still enough to spur me forwards.
Suddenly I find myself at a ridge. Hearing (or imagining) some nearby sound, I desperately try to scrabble up at it, kicking away with my feet and aching arm. Finally I pull myself to the top and beyond is like heaven.
There’s a house, a grand old house, but one that is actually lit and so looks protected. The light from it shines into the sky so ethereal. With a gasp of joy I start pelting towards it.
I dreamt this in my room within The Manor, a large house in West Wales. The house in my dream – and we all had the same dream last night – is clearly The Manor.
It is afterwards. After the object has fallen from the sky, after the virus has infected the majority of the human race. I am staggering in the darkness through the countryside. My legs ache and my feet are blistered, as if I’ve been running for days. In the distance I wonder if I can hear these ‘new’ people, the infected ones, but in my rational mind I know that they mainly stay in the towns and cities – better pickings there. They are not going to pursue me over fields and hillocks, and yet still I run.
It’s incredibly dark. Of course it’s been dark for a long time now, but the countryside is like stumbling through sheer blackness. I have fallen and tumbled so many times, I even think my shoulder might be fractured. But still I go on, even though I know there’s only a small chance I’m being chased, it’s still enough to spur me forwards.
Suddenly I find myself at a ridge. Hearing (or imagining) some nearby sound, I desperately try to scrabble up at it, kicking away with my feet and aching arm. Finally I pull myself to the top and beyond is like heaven.
There’s a house, a grand old house, but one that is actually lit and so looks protected. The light from it shines into the sky so ethereal. With a gasp of joy I start pelting towards it.
I dreamt this in my room within The Manor, a large house in West Wales. The house in my dream – and we all had the same dream last night – is clearly The Manor.
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