Time to say goodbye

The paramount thought of this dream was the conviction that I will be dead soon. The exact reason was unknown, however. Thus I was saying goodbye to everyone, giving some last words, wishes, deciding who will get my money - I even gave to my sisters some loose change. I also gave Asia, my oldest little sister, password to gmail so she could answer to incoming emails that I'm dead.

I felt almost nothing throughout the entire dream, apart from a few moments, when I was crying that I had been judging my father so badly lately, even though he is a good man after all... Other people also seemed devoid of any emotions.

In the last scene I'm rushing to the church, or rather a funeral parlour for my own funeral. I have my suit in the backpack so I ask someone inside where could I dress up. Then I asked myself why should I die? I felt really good, not as a person who is on the edge. Then I woke up.

Run for a shelter!

Me and my friend were on the snowy peak of a mountain. The weather was going worse, so I tied us with a rope to the rock.

Then, after some time, we somehow slided down to the green, prolific valleys. The landscape was fairytale, yet I could sense in the air something looming. Nevertheless I felt no dread, just a need to hide. We started to look for a shelter. I had a strange feeling of being omnipotent, for I was picturing all follow-ups of my actions. While trying to hide somewhere I already known that I would be spotted there.

So, when I was entering a manor I instantly known the arrangement of the rooms. On the second floor, on the back of the building, I found several children playing. They were holding their hands and dancing in the circle. I felt that this is the best shelter - to join this fun.

The Museum of the Apostles

I had sleep paralysis in the middle of the nigh, lying on the right side, which was sort of novelty. I was turned toward the wall and I saw black blurred sphere between my belly and the wall. It was maybe a bit smaller than a human head.

In parallel I was dreaming.

I was entering a building; the inscription over the doors was saying that it is a Museum of the Apostles. I wasn't alone, there were some people around visiting it with me. In the maze of the corridors of the Museum, small photos (sometimes only scraps of the photos) were showing a silhouette of a man, probably Jesus Christ. All photos were blurry, thus it was hard to guess whose figure was it actually.
Then the screening of the black-white documentary movie begun. It was saying the story of Pope elections through centuries, claiming that the face features of those personages decided about their selection. The atmosphere of the movie was indicating some kind of conspiracy theory. Time after time, Popes' faces close-ups were showing that all of them had a peculiar shade over eyes that was supposedly their link to Jesus Christ. I felt that the movie tried to convey that these shades under eye brows meant their kinship.

This dream was interfering with my paralysis and this black sphere. I was afraid that this sphere was actually a Pope's head, so I focused on waking up, which is always cumbersome during paralysis. Eventually I made it.

Jerzy Kukuczka's death

The first thing I remember is me roller-skating down the sloping pavement, passing a long building on the left. I was thinking why had I been called as a witness in the investigation of the Jerzy Kukuczka's death. After a while of riding, I passed the bouilding and turned left after the corner.

The magnificent view of the sea emerged. It was night; the dark, massive waters were waving under the clouds chased by the wuthering winds. All of the sudden I spotted a man on the beach. He was dying and I was quite sure that it was Kukuczka himself. I runned towards him as fast as I could. He was lying on his back, chuckling and I couldn't decide if I can resuscitate him or not. Close to us there was a woman, supposedly his wife. She was totally unable to do anything, even when I wanted her to call the ambulance.

Then the scenery changed. It was still our three, but in the Kukuczka's house, in a dim chamber. All walls were covered by dark curtains. The two front doors (no idea why two) were close to each other, both coated with quilted fabric and armed with several locks. The atmosphere in the room was rather heavy.

Kukuczka stopped chuckling and seemed to be dead, but I found out that he was still breathing, yet unconscious.

The last thing I remember is Kukuczka's wife struggling with her mobile, trying to call the ambulance at last, however unsuccessfully.