dream snapshots
My weird Celexa dreams continue, and I continue to find them vastly entertaining. Also, aside from the general free entertainment, dreams are a fascinating snapshot into the way my brain plays cut-and-paste-and-twist with a deeply random grab-bag of things I've noticed or thought about over the past few days.
Like, a couple nights ago I had a dream that was mostly weird porn (no seriously, whatever you are thinking it was weirder than that; it was kind of like a sociological study of "why the fuck would anyone think this was sexy???") except randomly a bunch of it kept taking place in raw-timber cabins and there was a digression in which two of my friends and I had to build a cabin in order to have a place to set up the projector to watch more weird porn for this sociological study. Which I am pretty sure is because a person I follow on Tumblr sometimes posts pictures of pretty cabins.
And there was a dream in which I kept trying to make a terrible bilingual Spanish pun, which failed miserably because I don't speak Spanish. I think that was because a Spanish class (and a person struggling in it) featured in a fic I'd read a couple days beforehand.
And last night I had a dream in which... well, it was long and full of weird digressions, but the basic plot thread was as follows: after some kind of zombie apocalypse struck, I was with a group of people who'd holed up in a sort of fortress wilderness area (creeks and gorges and stuff, readily defensible). We discovered that people who'd been bitten by the zombies could be kept from degenerating into ravening monsters if -- and only if -- they ate a certain number of printed pages per day. (This varied between literally eating the pages and sort of mystically "drinking" the printed words through vampire fangs, because dreams do not have to be consistent or make sense.)
We were all very worried because of course we had a moral obligation to keep victims from turning into mindless beasts, but we didn't have an infinite supply of books, not to mention the books we did have were mostly practical reference material that we desperately needed since we were not wilderness survival experts. There were some raids into the nearby city library, and I think we were debating the possibility of building a printing press when I woke up.
This is clearly allegorical and stuff, but also might make an interesting variation on a typical zombie apocalypse, because who cares about guns and patriarchy when there are BOOKS at stake. *wry*
Also I have reconfirmed that I cannot do math when I'm asleep -- or rather, I can do math just enough to realize that my sleeping brain is getting wildly wrong answers, at which point I get so frustrated that I force myself awake until I am coherent enough to find the correct answer. Once I reassure myself that I haven't forgotten how to do basic subtraction, I fall back asleep.
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Like, a couple nights ago I had a dream that was mostly weird porn (no seriously, whatever you are thinking it was weirder than that; it was kind of like a sociological study of "why the fuck would anyone think this was sexy???") except randomly a bunch of it kept taking place in raw-timber cabins and there was a digression in which two of my friends and I had to build a cabin in order to have a place to set up the projector to watch more weird porn for this sociological study. Which I am pretty sure is because a person I follow on Tumblr sometimes posts pictures of pretty cabins.
And there was a dream in which I kept trying to make a terrible bilingual Spanish pun, which failed miserably because I don't speak Spanish. I think that was because a Spanish class (and a person struggling in it) featured in a fic I'd read a couple days beforehand.
And last night I had a dream in which... well, it was long and full of weird digressions, but the basic plot thread was as follows: after some kind of zombie apocalypse struck, I was with a group of people who'd holed up in a sort of fortress wilderness area (creeks and gorges and stuff, readily defensible). We discovered that people who'd been bitten by the zombies could be kept from degenerating into ravening monsters if -- and only if -- they ate a certain number of printed pages per day. (This varied between literally eating the pages and sort of mystically "drinking" the printed words through vampire fangs, because dreams do not have to be consistent or make sense.)
We were all very worried because of course we had a moral obligation to keep victims from turning into mindless beasts, but we didn't have an infinite supply of books, not to mention the books we did have were mostly practical reference material that we desperately needed since we were not wilderness survival experts. There were some raids into the nearby city library, and I think we were debating the possibility of building a printing press when I woke up.
This is clearly allegorical and stuff, but also might make an interesting variation on a typical zombie apocalypse, because who cares about guns and patriarchy when there are BOOKS at stake. *wry*
Also I have reconfirmed that I cannot do math when I'm asleep -- or rather, I can do math just enough to realize that my sleeping brain is getting wildly wrong answers, at which point I get so frustrated that I force myself awake until I am coherent enough to find the correct answer. Once I reassure myself that I haven't forgotten how to do basic subtraction, I fall back asleep.
If you want to comment on this post, you can do so over here on Dreamwidth, where there are currently (
comments)