(no subject)
I go through phases of a week or so of intense dreams and then nothing but dead air for a couple months. Usually my dreams are pretty lucid and vivid, and I can understand why they're occurring the way they do but lately I've had problems figuring them out cause of how hyper realistic they are at the time. I'm waking up at 6am in a frenzy of panic or excitement and then am completely shocked at how I got into bed from whatever adventure I was on.
And then I get pissed off cause I still can't sleep in past 7 on a weekday.
What is even weirder is that I can completely recall my dreams now a couple hours after they happened when before I'd roll over and then complete forget everything that happened cause I have to drag myself out of bed.
This morning's was a doozy: I was sitting in a big armchair when this girl I am obsessed with right now straddled me and started making out with me intensely. I was totally like "alright! sex dream!" but she then got up and pulled me outside where I found I was on a ranch like set up with a delorian under a tarp in a grove of trees, a volkswagen bug in the front lawn with this fat guy watching a mini closed circuit tv, some hicks walking around who didn't want to beat me up, and a half finished boat made from trees, canvas and rope.
Somehow for some reason, I gave the fat guy prescription drugs - from a Korean convenience store - to stay awake and he o.d.'d and died and so the town bully who looks like Craig Kilbourne challenged me and my friend - some guy who looked like Matt Stone from South Park - to race using my half finished boat around town after a flood had occurred. Apparently in my brain, this is a local tradition and it was normal. If he won, he'd get the girl I love, my car and I'd have to leave town. If I won, I'd leave town with girl and the car and for some reason, the ranch would be burned down.
Obviously my brain totally shuts off on logic early in the morning but I do have all these vivid memories of whipping around flooded streets in this canoe boat with Matt Stone, trying to win the race, the girl and the car. I'm pretty sure the set up of the course was the same areas I like to walk around in the town I grew up in. No stretch of the imagination there except they were under three feet or more of water. Towns people standing on garbage cans, rafts and picnic tables were cheering and jeering us on. Its weird but most people that don't feature prominently in my dreams are the parents of people I went to high school with but didn't really bother to get to know. Amazing how we recycle, eh?
Right when I was in the last stretch of the race, my boat starts sinking. Matt Stone tells me that I should just be honest with everyone about what I want and I tell him, both in the dream and in my head, that I have no idea what he's talking about and to shut up and paddle.
When all is just about lost, that moment in a cliché 80s movie where the hero gets a slow motion montage of his stagger and then return to victory to bad 80s teenpopsynth crap that I still secretly love, I woke up.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Now I'll never know if I win the race, get the girl of my dreams (literally) and drive off into a sunset as the home ranch burns down symbolically.
Ug, its been bugging me all morning.
And then I get pissed off cause I still can't sleep in past 7 on a weekday.
What is even weirder is that I can completely recall my dreams now a couple hours after they happened when before I'd roll over and then complete forget everything that happened cause I have to drag myself out of bed.
This morning's was a doozy: I was sitting in a big armchair when this girl I am obsessed with right now straddled me and started making out with me intensely. I was totally like "alright! sex dream!" but she then got up and pulled me outside where I found I was on a ranch like set up with a delorian under a tarp in a grove of trees, a volkswagen bug in the front lawn with this fat guy watching a mini closed circuit tv, some hicks walking around who didn't want to beat me up, and a half finished boat made from trees, canvas and rope.
Somehow for some reason, I gave the fat guy prescription drugs - from a Korean convenience store - to stay awake and he o.d.'d and died and so the town bully who looks like Craig Kilbourne challenged me and my friend - some guy who looked like Matt Stone from South Park - to race using my half finished boat around town after a flood had occurred. Apparently in my brain, this is a local tradition and it was normal. If he won, he'd get the girl I love, my car and I'd have to leave town. If I won, I'd leave town with girl and the car and for some reason, the ranch would be burned down.
Obviously my brain totally shuts off on logic early in the morning but I do have all these vivid memories of whipping around flooded streets in this canoe boat with Matt Stone, trying to win the race, the girl and the car. I'm pretty sure the set up of the course was the same areas I like to walk around in the town I grew up in. No stretch of the imagination there except they were under three feet or more of water. Towns people standing on garbage cans, rafts and picnic tables were cheering and jeering us on. Its weird but most people that don't feature prominently in my dreams are the parents of people I went to high school with but didn't really bother to get to know. Amazing how we recycle, eh?
Right when I was in the last stretch of the race, my boat starts sinking. Matt Stone tells me that I should just be honest with everyone about what I want and I tell him, both in the dream and in my head, that I have no idea what he's talking about and to shut up and paddle.
When all is just about lost, that moment in a cliché 80s movie where the hero gets a slow motion montage of his stagger and then return to victory to bad 80s teenpopsynth crap that I still secretly love, I woke up.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Now I'll never know if I win the race, get the girl of my dreams (literally) and drive off into a sunset as the home ranch burns down symbolically.
Ug, its been bugging me all morning.