Nicotine Dreams: Toilets and Fairgrounds

This post is part of a series of articles that reflect on nicotine induced dreams. During 2012 whilst attempting to quit smoking, I was using patches as part of a Nicotine Replacement Therapy program. I became very aware of heightened recall of dreams I experienced whilst wearing a nicotine patch and began to document them accordingly. This is one such dream.

25mg patch.

I was on a farm that begins with “W” though I cannot recall it’s full name; there is a fairground beside it, and the farm is a sort of resort? I am in a bar area and Dave Mackenzie is there, he offers to get me a drink, but I have to pay for it? I don’t even remember having the drink, or even seeing what it was, though I gave him the money for it?

I go into the toilets and am stood by a urinal but struggling to urinate for some reason? Two girls approach from behind me and start pressing themselves against me, biting my ear and licking my neck, asking why I can’t urinate and if it’s because I’m shy. There is a blonde to my left, and a brunette to my right; I tell them I am not shy. I lean behind me, and myself and the blonde flick tongues together, and then I bite the brunettes bottom lip. I suddenly notice three twenty pence pieces in the urinal beside the standard yellow fragranced block. The girls vanish.

Suddenly I notice Tom Walker staggering about smiling too himself, blatantly hammered. He is stood by a cubicle door but failing to open it, then slips on urine and faceplants in it. He is struggling to get up, slipping about like he is breakdancing, laughing all the while amused at his inability to return to his feet. A small child is stood nearby crying because he needs the toilet but is intimidated by Tom.

I am outside now, walking through a field alongside some trees; I am with another couple of people but I cannot recall who? We walk across a really busy road, and I am nearly hit by a car twice. We reach the otherside and it is like a promenade overlooking the sea. I realise I have left my drink at the bar, so say I’m going back to get it. I cross over and pass through an arcade back out into the fields. I am walking past lots of people, and I tap someone on the arm because I think it’s my friend Gary Hughes; the lad turns around and looks nothing like him, notably because he has ginger hair. His friends are laughing at my case of mistaken identity. 

I walk around some trees and climb over a small metal railing into the fairground. There are rides spinning around very aggressively and I nearly get hit by one, having to press my back to a metal post. I hear a voice shout my name, telling me to look up at the “dolphin”; I look up instinctively to my right at a rollercoaster and can see my Dad, stepmum Ang and my brother Terry at the top of a drop, waving emphatically. I walk alongside the tracks and stop beside my little sister Laura who is the other side of a railing, right beside the track to the ride. I’m alarmed at first but look past her and see a buggy there too which reassures me for some reason? I walk off and into a nearby building with a reception area to my right, into a bedroom, and then I wake up.