Dreams
I am told that my dreams just aren’t normal. I have always chucked it up to being a lucid dreamer. But Cal says, "no, this is strange." The "this" in question is that my subconscious has conversations with both my waking brain and the “me” in the dreams. All in my voice, all distinct narrators.
Case in point: a dream the other day.
“I” was a person named “Jay” in the dream. Jay had a girlfriend. Girlfriend had 2 uncles that were throwing her a birthday party because she was turning twenty five. Big old house. As things unfolded in the dream, the uncles were really ghosts, and all the people who were invited were actually supposed to be assumed by the house to be part of the cadre of ghosts that would forever live in the house, haunt it and so on. “Jay” was in on it, supposed to betray the girlfriend in exchange for not being eaten by the house.
Then my voice interrupts some scene that is all horrible and tense and bloody and gross. “This? Really? This is no better than EVERY Stephen King made-for-TV movie. This is the best I got in here?” ("Here" is always meaning "my brain.")
Scene changes to a ball room where the bodies of clowns are mounted on carousel poles. The clowns look like Calavera dolls.
My voice: Now this looks like Beetlejuice. Tim Burton lives here now? This is what I dream? That’s it, I’m leaving.
And then I wake up, laughing, in reality, cause the Calavera clowns did look like Nightmare Before Christmas toys.
And more times than not (in dreams I remember) the “me” in my dreams has conversations with other parts of my brain.
Dream Me: “Well what do I do now?” (standing in a void)
Subconscious Me: “I don’t know. I haven’t had a flying dream in a while.”
Waking Me: “No don’t do that. I have to pee. I should be getting up.”
Dream Me: “Yeah. I’m in a bathroom setting now, looking for a place to go.”
Subconscious Me: “Let me fix that. Now I’m outside.”
Dream Me: That won’t work, I can go on a tree. Should wake up. Why am I laughing?
Waking Me: Bob and Brian (radio DJ's alarm is set to play radio) are funny. You should hear this.
Dream me: You know I’m deaf in here. I can’t read or hear. Of if I can hear, I can’t taste. What’re they saying?
Waking me: I forget. I’m waking up. Plus, Beano wants fed she’s got her nose in my ear.
Anyone else do this?
Case in point: a dream the other day.
“I” was a person named “Jay” in the dream. Jay had a girlfriend. Girlfriend had 2 uncles that were throwing her a birthday party because she was turning twenty five. Big old house. As things unfolded in the dream, the uncles were really ghosts, and all the people who were invited were actually supposed to be assumed by the house to be part of the cadre of ghosts that would forever live in the house, haunt it and so on. “Jay” was in on it, supposed to betray the girlfriend in exchange for not being eaten by the house.
Then my voice interrupts some scene that is all horrible and tense and bloody and gross. “This? Really? This is no better than EVERY Stephen King made-for-TV movie. This is the best I got in here?” ("Here" is always meaning "my brain.")
Scene changes to a ball room where the bodies of clowns are mounted on carousel poles. The clowns look like Calavera dolls.
My voice: Now this looks like Beetlejuice. Tim Burton lives here now? This is what I dream? That’s it, I’m leaving.
And then I wake up, laughing, in reality, cause the Calavera clowns did look like Nightmare Before Christmas toys.
And more times than not (in dreams I remember) the “me” in my dreams has conversations with other parts of my brain.
Dream Me: “Well what do I do now?” (standing in a void)
Subconscious Me: “I don’t know. I haven’t had a flying dream in a while.”
Waking Me: “No don’t do that. I have to pee. I should be getting up.”
Dream Me: “Yeah. I’m in a bathroom setting now, looking for a place to go.”
Subconscious Me: “Let me fix that. Now I’m outside.”
Dream Me: That won’t work, I can go on a tree. Should wake up. Why am I laughing?
Waking Me: Bob and Brian (radio DJ's alarm is set to play radio) are funny. You should hear this.
Dream me: You know I’m deaf in here. I can’t read or hear. Of if I can hear, I can’t taste. What’re they saying?
Waking me: I forget. I’m waking up. Plus, Beano wants fed she’s got her nose in my ear.
Anyone else do this?