The Yellow Dream is my favorite nightmare. My dreams tend towards the cinematic, high-adrenaline blockbusters full of action and narrative and geography. Yellow Dream is abstract, a little art piece, three minutes and ten seconds on youtube.

When I was small, we had four bowls. They were made of plastic, lightweight and thin and so smooth that when ( Read more... )

So, the dream starts with flaking lips. And then the skin peels off, until I have a thumb-sized hole in my cheek. I can see the muscles and ligaments inside, and they look rather like this. All separated and preserved-looking. And I'm trying to reconnect a tendon with q-tips, because it burns so bad when I use my fingers. In the old bathroom, the ( Read more... )

I dreamed about being trapped inside a pipe, long and impossibly narrow, serpentine and dark. And wet. Water rushed through it as I crawled along, up to my thighs, my belly, my chin. Very cold ( Read more... )

Have you ever had the dream where parts of your body stretch and morph? Like chicken pox gone mad, every lesion swelling out, stretching until it's longer than my hand, a tentacle as thick as my wrist made of soft white skin, hollow, with teeth in the round, inert mouth ( Read more... )

Sometimes, the stress dream starts when I'm wide awake. I can feel it as a pressure behind the corners of my jaw, against the outside of my eyes. The texture of yellow plastic bowls against my lips and the first knuckles of my fingers. The urge to pluck my hairs and sort them by length.

I don't dare fall asleep now.

I've been having a number of rich, vivid dreams, lately. I'm not sure what to think of them; my left brain wants to read detail and symbolism into them, but they're just dreams. Right ( Read more... )

Burrows, again. I have no memory of how I got there, but I was undeniably on Burrows, a much more mountainous version of the same eerie little island. I came to myself on a high trail, just above the boarded-up Coast Guard boathouse. From there, I could see Dad in his boat, circling with no way to come pick me up. There's a little beach on that ( Read more... )

I slept absolutely forever today, and dreamed many things ( Read more... )

I was sailing with my dad, but it was myself at the helm. The bay looked like his bay on Decatur, but there was wreckage all through it, vast jagged iron remnants of some past calamity. We were moving very quickly, under a very small mizzen (which is a sail my dad's boat doesn't have), and I was having trouble navigating this obstacle course. ( Read more... )

I had two distinct dreams one night, both unsettling enough to make me want to wake when I had the choice.

The first one had an odd note of foretelling. The storyline of it was narrated in a rich voice, reminiscent of Unsolved Mysteries, and what it foretold filled me with a chill. I was babysitting Cammy, the daughter of Katy, a friend, and the ( Read more... )