A Dream Is A Squish Your Heart Makes
Because we interpret dreams as visual story telling, I wonder sometimes how much our saturation in film and television affects the way we dream (or, at least, the way we remember dreams).
I once had a dream in which I was swimming and breathing along a brightly lit ocean floor, trying to escape from two obviously CGI killer whales.
I was afraid of them,
even though they weren't very good CGI,
since I had the dream in 1997.
This occurs to me because I only just realized that sometimes, when I'm alone at night and I get that sense that someone might be standing behind me, it's just a middle-aged guy in a cheap black robe holding a plastic scythe and looking uncomfortable in white face-paint. Like, maybe if your Jr. High was putting on a production of A Christmas Carol and everybody thought it would be funny to get the girls volleyball coach to play the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come.
Yeah, that's the pretty much the guy that stands outside my bedroom door at night.
I once had a dream in which I was swimming and breathing along a brightly lit ocean floor, trying to escape from two obviously CGI killer whales.
I was afraid of them,
even though they weren't very good CGI,
since I had the dream in 1997.
This occurs to me because I only just realized that sometimes, when I'm alone at night and I get that sense that someone might be standing behind me, it's just a middle-aged guy in a cheap black robe holding a plastic scythe and looking uncomfortable in white face-paint. Like, maybe if your Jr. High was putting on a production of A Christmas Carol and everybody thought it would be funny to get the girls volleyball coach to play the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come.
Yeah, that's the pretty much the guy that stands outside my bedroom door at night.