Plane Crashes, missing shoes, gut wrenching stuff

Ok so I know I have been quiet for about 2 months, an then all of a sudden I have posted twice in the same day, but I imagine this is the last you will hear of me until April.

Earlier this morning, I posted because I just had that feeling where I wanted to get stuff off my chest, although as you can probably tell if you read the last post (I'm not very good at this) I did that somewhat "half-assedly" as a certain influential Mr. Steven Page might say.

Also I do not claim to be a writer. I am literate. I can read write and speak english et en peu de français. (Notice the correctly placed cédille! [Notice the correctly placed accent aigu!]). The fact is after last night's mental dump I went to bed, and went straight to sleep (a novelty in itself). I then had the most vivid dream, and I woke up feeling rather strange. (read: "I wake up scared, I wake up strange, and I wake up wondering if anything in my life is ever going to change, I wake up scared! I wake up strange, and everything around me stays the same!") It's funny how some bands have a song for every aspect of your life (Barenaked Ladies - What a good boy).

Anyway by now you can see why I am not a writer, it's a Billy Connelly-esqe style of randomly hopping from one subject to the next, although always managing to find my way back to finish a train of thought. On that note, I will try and describe this dream (and hopefully stay on topic until the end).

It's mid-afternoon, it's overcast and I am sitting in the airport lounge at Glasgow airport. It's the downstairs EasyJet Lounge, with walls such a bright orange it almost makes up for the consistently overcast weather. I am waiting with some colleagues for work as we are heading to London for training on influencing skills. We are sitting around talking about how bad this course is likely to be, American corporate and flowery soft skills to the worst degree. I am sipping on a bottle of Kronenburg, much like the other drinkers in the room, although a few were enjoying vodka and coke. Just then the final flight boarding call is made, which as strange as we seem to have missed any previous calls.

So we went through the gate and got on board a Boeing 737. We took our seats but as we were the last to get on and the flight was busy we sat seperately. The plane took off swiftly and we were at cruising altitude in no time. There was some turbulence, and then one of the passengers was in a panic, she was telling everyone that she was smelling smoke. I couldn't smell anything but the next thing I know we are in the midst of an emergency landing in a field. The landing was rough and loud. "The worst part was hitting the ground, not the feeling so much as the sound."

The plane came to rest under an overpass that looked scarily like the 410 extension. Some of the passengers scurried to the exits and made their way outside the plane. I left the plane by the foremost left exit, noticing smoke billowing from the front of the left engine. Some of my collegues were standing outside of the plane, far too close. I ran over and urged them to move away from the wreckage. As we were walking away I stood on a thistle with my right foot, and I realised I have lost a shoe in the fracus.

Just then through the smoke you could see violent flames that were heating the underside of the wing so much it appeared to be glowing red hot. There were still people on board the aircraft, and I was shouting "Get out! Get out! it's gonna go up any second!" Standing there frozen, I suddenly got this overwhelming feeling that despite the vividness of everything, this was just a dream and I was not in danger. I ran towards the fuselage to and was trying to help people get out of the way. Then I heard a crackling noise, sort of like the fuse of a firework, I lost the feeling that it was a dream and ran and threw myself on the ground. The jet fuel caused a massive explosion and despite feeling the heat of it all I escaped relatively unscathed.

The next thing I am in my hotel talking over the days events. Still, strangely with one shoe, and bits of thistle stuck in my foot. Then the days events are forgotten, as if it never happened and we were talking about life in general. I won't go into too much detail about who I was talking to, or what we were talking about (due to my policy of blog half-assed honesty) but it was great, I felt really good. It was so real, then I woke up. What a come down that was.

Now it's 10.25am, I am cold, hungry, and looking forward to a day of nothing.

Well I hope you enjoyed that. I am not really one to believe in dream analysis of any sort but a few things are troubling me about this.

1. Why was the passenger who raised the alarm a girl by the name of Ashley Oakley whom I attended Elementary School with. Probably haven't seen her in at least 10 years, weird
2. If I was flying from Glasgow to London why did the crash site look like the 410 Extension?
3. The crash site obviously wasn't the 410 Extension as I stepped on a thistle, so was probably still in Scotland
4. Why was there a plane crash?
5. What happened between the crash and the hotel?
6. And what the f*** was all that stuff about at the end, I mean seriously, my mind is just f**king with me now

In any event if I have a dream it's ususally a series of nonsense events, although this one was scarily vivid. Although I am sure I am reading too much into it. I should just stop drinking.


"Do you know everyone you ever swore you'd love for life? I don't know them anymore. I know their names, I'd recognize them on the street but I don't love them" - Barenaked Ladies (Maybe Katie)