Couple weeks ago
I open my eyes. I am laying on my stomach on the floor. Offwhite carpet. The front door is behind my feet. I am facing a room on the right. The door is open. A man is sitting at a desk facing away from me, using a computer. He's wearing a white t-shirt and jeans. I silently lift my head to look around. Oh right. I was stolen. I really need to leave. I push myself up and get my feet under me and make a dash for the bathroom. As soon as I move the guy spins around and leaps out of his chair. Only a few steps to the bathroom, I can make it. I slam the door just before he can reach me. It won't lock. There is no lock!! It's a bathroom, why is there no lock?! He's slamming into the door and trying to open it. My hands can't keep the knob from turning. He stops for a moment. Now or never. I jump into the tub to open the window above. It slides open and I hear the man slam into the door. I pull myself up and barely squeeze out through the gap. The door slams open as I kick and wiggle out. I fall to the ground but quickly get my feet under me again. He will try to find me. I need to start running.
I had been in an apartment apparently. Buildings everywhere. I saw a way out of the maze. I ran down the sidewalk as fast as I could and I just kept running towards the city. There were skyscrapers with windows lit up and shops turning their lights on as the sun lowered. I found the ocean. The city was built around the three sides of an artificial cove. Three sides surrounded by buildings, a giant city, the fourth side water gently rippled in from the ocean where the sun was setting. I turned and kept running and trying to find someone. But there were no people. I needed someone, anyone!
My lungs are burning. My legs are numb. I can't breathe anymore. I can't keep running. There! A shadow in the window, a silhouette behind the blinds in another apartment complex. I knock on the door. It opens and two men are standing there, one at the door, the other just behind him. The one at the door is tall. His hair is dark, his eyes are dark, he has a goatee. He smiles. Not a happy smile. A smile that tells me he's one of the bad guys. Fuck. He swings at me and I black out.
I wake up on the floor again. Another apartment. The one I just knocked on the door of? Maybe. Probably. I don't know. But this time there are several men there. They are silent. A few are watching me. I am sore. There is blood on my hands and arm. I lift it and sit up slightly. Blood everywhere. My own blood. On my face, my arms, my shirt, my pants. My shoes are gone. My head is pounding. I am so sore and tired. I'm exhausted. I can't stop though or they will kill me. They watch me, laughing, as I army crawl to the nearest room. Another bathroom. I kick the wood door shut. This one locks. The tile floor is cold. I can't catch my breath. I'm breathing so hard. My body starts shaking. My head is pounding. I start crying. I want to give up. If they rape me and kill me it will be over. No reason to fight anymore. Just let it happen. Be done. Give up. Then the pain will stop. The fear goes away. No more suffering. No more bleeding. No more. I'm done.
No. I have to fight! I cry out and force myself to stand up. The men start trying to break the door down. It's cracking and splintering. The window is higher up and smaller than in the first bathroom. And it's stuck. I can't get a good grip on it. Too much blood on my hands. My panic level increases. I need to open the fucking window. It's my only way out. I'm crying, screaming. Bloody handprints are smeared across the window. I push with all I have left in me. It budges. I move my fingers over and pull. Sharp pulls, each one opening the window just a little more. The door is failing. A heavy boot smashes through. I need to get out NOW. I punch the screen out and try to climb up. I don't think I can fit. I get my arms up and my feet climb the wall to push my upper body out. Arms wrap around the outside. I turn sideways and force myself through. The window pane scrapes on my stomach. I somehow wiggle out. I can't run anymore. I need to. I'm on the other side of the cove from where I started. I will swim. Maybe they won't follow me into the water.
This is where the dream gets dumb and *really* random.
There are sharks here. I know there are. The sun has just gone down. The waves are bigger than earlier but still small though they aren't coming from the ocean, but from the direction of the city. Backwards. A large wave is coming. It crashes and fizzles into sizzling foam. A line of people with surfboards is standing there. I can touch the bottom? I can. I stand up. They are walking towards me. I notice that their boards are chewed up. Bites taken out. These are dead surfers. They are soggy, missing limbs, pale. I'm not afraid of them. One hands me a body board and we all start paddling toward the city, against the waves.
The waves switch direction suddenly and we are pushed in. I stand up again. The sun is rising. Light glowing through the skyscrapers. The waves are getting bigger. There are people surfing. The dead ones just watch. Then a big wave breaks and slams down one of the alive surfers. He was too close to shore. His head broke. His arm came off. He was on his stomach, dead man float. Nobody alive noticed. The dead surfers started wading over to him.
Then the bad guys found me again. I got out of the water and started climbing a rectangular pillar of a building. It was a tower. There were several and I jumped from one to the next towards the building itself. The dead surfers stood and watched. One bad guy is chasing me. Gaining on me. I make it to the building and jump down onto a curved ledge. There are several shallow U-shaped ledges. I jump down, down, down. I finally can't go down any more and the bad guy is still moving in. I jump for the water from about 50 feet up. I land gently and gracefully in the water and move away. The bad guy jumps. He hits hard and screams in pain. The dead surfers attack him and rip him apart. His screams turn to gurgles. I don't know where the other bad guys went. I'm still scared.
When I woke up I was confused and really grossed out by the final scene. Then I remembered the entire first part and couldn't stop crying. I wanted to die, to be raped, just so it would end.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
Animal
Late spring of 2006
It's night and I'm in a forest. The moon is full. Deep snow covers the ground and clings to the tall pines trees. It is still snowing heavily and I can't see very far ahead. It's completely silent apart from the snow crunching softly under my feet- my paws? I am a mountain lion, my paws sinking into the snow. There are two small cubs. They are so young their eyes are barely open. They are crying for me. They are freezing. I am carrying one gently in my mouth, leaving the other behind for a moment. I walk down a slight hill and place the cub under a shrub. The branches are holding the snow up and the ground underneath is dry. I'll be right back. I go for the other cub now. Up the little hill. It is laying on the snow, too light to sink down. It is barely alive. I pick it up, snow falling off it as I do, and walk to the edge of the hill. It's not going to make it. I know it's not. It is breathing so shallow and is going to die. It is weak. I throw it down harshly. It cries. The snow turns red. My claws dig in, my teeth shred and rip. Done. I go to the other cub, blood still dripping from my face. I bring it out and do the same as I did to the first cub. Done. I stand there panting for a moment. Then I leave them and continue walking through the blizzard on my own.
It's night and I'm in a forest. The moon is full. Deep snow covers the ground and clings to the tall pines trees. It is still snowing heavily and I can't see very far ahead. It's completely silent apart from the snow crunching softly under my feet- my paws? I am a mountain lion, my paws sinking into the snow. There are two small cubs. They are so young their eyes are barely open. They are crying for me. They are freezing. I am carrying one gently in my mouth, leaving the other behind for a moment. I walk down a slight hill and place the cub under a shrub. The branches are holding the snow up and the ground underneath is dry. I'll be right back. I go for the other cub now. Up the little hill. It is laying on the snow, too light to sink down. It is barely alive. I pick it up, snow falling off it as I do, and walk to the edge of the hill. It's not going to make it. I know it's not. It is breathing so shallow and is going to die. It is weak. I throw it down harshly. It cries. The snow turns red. My claws dig in, my teeth shred and rip. Done. I go to the other cub, blood still dripping from my face. I bring it out and do the same as I did to the first cub. Done. I stand there panting for a moment. Then I leave them and continue walking through the blizzard on my own.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Solar Flare
Night of 2/8/11
We are in a house. It’s a big house with lots of windows. I am there with my younger brother, David, and my dog, Denali. The world is ending. It’s like the movie "Knowing" where [spoilers] there is going to be a giant solar flare that will blast away the ozone layer and kill everyone. Just as in the movie, the radiation will reach as deep as a mile below the earth's crust. There is nowhere to go. I don’t know where anyone is. David is laying on the couch, watching tv. The president and those higher up in the government are going to an underground bunker, 2 miles below the surface. I wonder what the point is. I would rather be blasted away than live underground and eventually die of dehydration or starvation or who knows what.
The sky is a weird color. Amber, golden. It looks like sunrise. I go in the basement and sit on a recliner chair. I pull my legs up and hold my knees my chest. What is dying like? It’s getting hot. I can feel my skin burning. Exactly like getting a sunburn. I realize Denali is upstairs. How could I have left her? I run up the stairs. She is lying by the back door, curled up, looking outside. “Nali!” I call to her. She trots up to me and I kneel down to pet her and look in her brown eyes. She doesn’t seem worried. She has no idea. I ask David if he wants to come to the basement. He leans up from the couch, his skin reddening. “No, it doesn’t make a difference. I kinda want to watch it happen.” The television is bars of color, getting more distorted by the second. I pick up Denali. She puts her head against my neck. There is a glow on the horizon. David stands up and moves toward a window. I hold Denali firmly and start to cry. My heart starts pounding and my adrenaline shoots through the roof as the glow gets brighter and brighter, blazing amber colored with streaks of gold and orange in the sky. My skin feels like it is on fire, it’s so red and starting to blister. It’s time. I shut my eyes at the last second.
We are in a house. It’s a big house with lots of windows. I am there with my younger brother, David, and my dog, Denali. The world is ending. It’s like the movie "Knowing" where [spoilers] there is going to be a giant solar flare that will blast away the ozone layer and kill everyone. Just as in the movie, the radiation will reach as deep as a mile below the earth's crust. There is nowhere to go. I don’t know where anyone is. David is laying on the couch, watching tv. The president and those higher up in the government are going to an underground bunker, 2 miles below the surface. I wonder what the point is. I would rather be blasted away than live underground and eventually die of dehydration or starvation or who knows what.
The sky is a weird color. Amber, golden. It looks like sunrise. I go in the basement and sit on a recliner chair. I pull my legs up and hold my knees my chest. What is dying like? It’s getting hot. I can feel my skin burning. Exactly like getting a sunburn. I realize Denali is upstairs. How could I have left her? I run up the stairs. She is lying by the back door, curled up, looking outside. “Nali!” I call to her. She trots up to me and I kneel down to pet her and look in her brown eyes. She doesn’t seem worried. She has no idea. I ask David if he wants to come to the basement. He leans up from the couch, his skin reddening. “No, it doesn’t make a difference. I kinda want to watch it happen.” The television is bars of color, getting more distorted by the second. I pick up Denali. She puts her head against my neck. There is a glow on the horizon. David stands up and moves toward a window. I hold Denali firmly and start to cry. My heart starts pounding and my adrenaline shoots through the roof as the glow gets brighter and brighter, blazing amber colored with streaks of gold and orange in the sky. My skin feels like it is on fire, it’s so red and starting to blister. It’s time. I shut my eyes at the last second.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Train
I don't remember when this dream occurred, sometime in the last year or two.
The city was futuristic. Skyscrapers that reached high into the atmosphere through the clouds, smooth and flowing architecture, and a train that ran vertically. It was like a monorail. I was on the train, headed up. People remained standing or sitting horizontally, their hair hanging down. Those who stood had their feet firmly planted on the floor, hands clutching one of the cold metal poles. Briefcases and belongings were held tight. I was watching the city slide by out the window from my seat.
It was raining heavily outside. The sky was dark and cloudy, lightning flashing here and there and the sound of thunder easily heard through the constant rumbling of the train.
The train was still ascending, higher and higher, when without warning it lost power, the rumbling stopped, all was silent for a fraction of a second, and then it plummeted back down towards the earth. Whatever way that people had been able to remain horizontal failed as well. Everyone went crashing to the back of the cars, some trying desperately to cling to the metal poles or their seats. The train was screeching, dimly lit by emergency lights. Sparks flew by the windows. And people were screaming. Screaming and screaming. I sat silently, watching others, watching the blur of the lights from the skyscrapers, and waiting for the end.
I was sitting only a few seats away from the back of the car, now the end that would hit first. There was a pole in front of me. I somehow managed to stand up and gripped it tightly as I stepped onto my seat, crouching, wondering if there was any way to survive the impact. There were a few cars that would hit the ground first. There was a glimpse of leafy trees, and then the train hit the ground. The bottom cars hit hard and the force shot through the train. People were flung around the car and I somehow managed to keep hold on the metal pole, still crouching on the seat. The cars below crumpled. People and parts of them flew past the windows with chunks of metal, leaving streaks of blood that the rain slowly diluted. Our car was disconnected from the ones below and as it hit against them was positioned to keep its momentum going forward along the ground and still upright.
Our car was the front car now with the others broken away. The glass door at the front of the car was our windshield as we plowed through a park. A bicyclist. A woman pushing stroller. Countless people crushed, blown apart, and smashed by the out of control train. And I had a front row seat. Blood was splattered over every window and I soon could barely see out the front glass. We were finally slowing to a stop. I looked around the car. People were crying. They were screaming not in terror now, but in pain and shock. A few lay limp on the floor in pools of blood. I noticed that parts of the roof were gone, probably stripped away by the metal that had flown by from the other cars. Windows were broken too. The rain was slowly washing the blood away.
The city was futuristic. Skyscrapers that reached high into the atmosphere through the clouds, smooth and flowing architecture, and a train that ran vertically. It was like a monorail. I was on the train, headed up. People remained standing or sitting horizontally, their hair hanging down. Those who stood had their feet firmly planted on the floor, hands clutching one of the cold metal poles. Briefcases and belongings were held tight. I was watching the city slide by out the window from my seat.
It was raining heavily outside. The sky was dark and cloudy, lightning flashing here and there and the sound of thunder easily heard through the constant rumbling of the train.
The train was still ascending, higher and higher, when without warning it lost power, the rumbling stopped, all was silent for a fraction of a second, and then it plummeted back down towards the earth. Whatever way that people had been able to remain horizontal failed as well. Everyone went crashing to the back of the cars, some trying desperately to cling to the metal poles or their seats. The train was screeching, dimly lit by emergency lights. Sparks flew by the windows. And people were screaming. Screaming and screaming. I sat silently, watching others, watching the blur of the lights from the skyscrapers, and waiting for the end.
I was sitting only a few seats away from the back of the car, now the end that would hit first. There was a pole in front of me. I somehow managed to stand up and gripped it tightly as I stepped onto my seat, crouching, wondering if there was any way to survive the impact. There were a few cars that would hit the ground first. There was a glimpse of leafy trees, and then the train hit the ground. The bottom cars hit hard and the force shot through the train. People were flung around the car and I somehow managed to keep hold on the metal pole, still crouching on the seat. The cars below crumpled. People and parts of them flew past the windows with chunks of metal, leaving streaks of blood that the rain slowly diluted. Our car was disconnected from the ones below and as it hit against them was positioned to keep its momentum going forward along the ground and still upright.
Our car was the front car now with the others broken away. The glass door at the front of the car was our windshield as we plowed through a park. A bicyclist. A woman pushing stroller. Countless people crushed, blown apart, and smashed by the out of control train. And I had a front row seat. Blood was splattered over every window and I soon could barely see out the front glass. We were finally slowing to a stop. I looked around the car. People were crying. They were screaming not in terror now, but in pain and shock. A few lay limp on the floor in pools of blood. I noticed that parts of the roof were gone, probably stripped away by the metal that had flown by from the other cars. Windows were broken too. The rain was slowly washing the blood away.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
The Intrigue, part 2
I got in an empty car, an SUV, that was still running and floored it towards home. It wasn't far. I called my mom on the way. She answered and said if I didn’t have a reason to be there, I should go away. Why was she mad at me? I didn’t know. I saw Intrigue in the front yard and so I ran the car through the neighbor’s fence. I slammed the brakes to a stop right next to the fence of our backyard, jumped out, and hopped over just before my leg would have been grabbed. I fumbled with my keys, trying to unlock the back door. I got in just in time, slammed the door, and heard my mother in the garage. [Not my real mother, a woman made up in the dream.] I turned the corner, and she looked to be 110 years old, dead eyes staring at me in dark eye circles, pale, wide grin, little hair, and holding an axe. She wasn’t wearing the black hooded cape that the others were. She didn’t say anything and didn't move. She was just smiling. I ran upstairs and she tilted her head, watching me, without changing her expression. I locked myself in a bedroom.
The bed was next to the window. The closet on the left. A dresser on the right. I realized that I could be seen through the window. The blinds were up. And the car headlights were shining in. An Intrigue was wandering towards the car. He was very tall and skinny, bald, long fingers, wearing loose jeans and a shirt that was white with red sleeves, under his cape. His hood was off. I slowly crawled across the bed to reach the blinds. As I reached for the strings, the Intrigue snapped his head my direction. He had seen me. He bounded towards the house as I slammed the blinds shut, trying to think of my next move. Would he lose interest if he couldn’t see me? I saw his shadow through the blinds. He climbed up the roof and snarled as he leaped. The glass shattered. Doublepane windows. He didn’t get in. He slumped on the roof, shook his head, and crawled off back onto the lawn.
Suddenly the room was different. Instantly. There was a crib with a blanket over it. There were drapes and fabric hung everywhere with stars on them. Dark maroon and black fabric with gold and silver stars. A hooded figure sat near the door, bony hand holding a scythe. He raised his head to me. A skull. Unchangeable grin. Empty eye sockets. Bare bone skull. I didn’t feel threatened at all. But I wanted out of the room. I opened the door and my friend was there [nobody I actually know], a horrified look on his face as he looked down the hall. I looked too. An Intrigue, covered in blood, panting, partly bent over, a crazed expression. My friend looked at me, looked around the changed house, and said “I think we’re dealing with a magician.”
We heard movement in the bedroom and the Intrigue was doing nothing but panting so we looked back into the room. The blanket over the crib was moving. Slowly, up and down. The Intrigue in the hall charged and my friend tackled me into the room, kicking the door shut. The door was being clawed, attacked, and a tiny decaying hand was pushing up the blanket. Still laying on the floor, I glanced at the hooded figure in the room. He nodded to me.
Then I woke up.
The bed was next to the window. The closet on the left. A dresser on the right. I realized that I could be seen through the window. The blinds were up. And the car headlights were shining in. An Intrigue was wandering towards the car. He was very tall and skinny, bald, long fingers, wearing loose jeans and a shirt that was white with red sleeves, under his cape. His hood was off. I slowly crawled across the bed to reach the blinds. As I reached for the strings, the Intrigue snapped his head my direction. He had seen me. He bounded towards the house as I slammed the blinds shut, trying to think of my next move. Would he lose interest if he couldn’t see me? I saw his shadow through the blinds. He climbed up the roof and snarled as he leaped. The glass shattered. Doublepane windows. He didn’t get in. He slumped on the roof, shook his head, and crawled off back onto the lawn.
Suddenly the room was different. Instantly. There was a crib with a blanket over it. There were drapes and fabric hung everywhere with stars on them. Dark maroon and black fabric with gold and silver stars. A hooded figure sat near the door, bony hand holding a scythe. He raised his head to me. A skull. Unchangeable grin. Empty eye sockets. Bare bone skull. I didn’t feel threatened at all. But I wanted out of the room. I opened the door and my friend was there [nobody I actually know], a horrified look on his face as he looked down the hall. I looked too. An Intrigue, covered in blood, panting, partly bent over, a crazed expression. My friend looked at me, looked around the changed house, and said “I think we’re dealing with a magician.”
We heard movement in the bedroom and the Intrigue was doing nothing but panting so we looked back into the room. The blanket over the crib was moving. Slowly, up and down. The Intrigue in the hall charged and my friend tackled me into the room, kicking the door shut. The door was being clawed, attacked, and a tiny decaying hand was pushing up the blanket. Still laying on the floor, I glanced at the hooded figure in the room. He nodded to me.
Then I woke up.
The Intrigue, part 1
Night of January 3rd.
I was at a store in the late afternoon. I was standing between sets of automatic sliding double doors, facing the store. There were polished dark wooden stairs that lead down into the store. There were racks of clothing and a jewelry counter. Typical department store things. The checkout counter was in the back of the store. The walls were the same polished wood as the stairs and floor, high shelves with intricate designs.
It was Black Friday, and the sun was low in the sky. Store capacity was reached and they were only letting in 2 people at a time as 2 people would leave. I finally got in, was looking around, and my little brother was there. He was about 6 years old. He put his leftover breakfast on a shelf and I yelled at him. He told me the food was cold and hard and he didn't want it. I walked over and poked the cheesy eggs. Definitely not cold and hard, but rather gooey. "David..." my voice trailed off as I saw him reaching for a button in the corner of a store. He pressed it, which made the wall above the checkout counter move out into shelves, extending over the counter. Again, I yelled at him, and mid yell the store started shaking. At first I thought it was from the shelves being extended, but no. I looked around and realized it was an earthquake just as a store employee yelled “Everybody out!!!!” Things were falling over. People screaming. Dust in the air. The building was collapsing. Walls crumbling. I was moments from getting out when a chunk of the ceiling fell on me.
I screamed. “Help!! Help me!!!” But everyone kept running out and away. I would have too. I summoned all my strength in a state of panicked adrenaline rush, and managed to roll out from under it and into the street. The ground was still shaking hard. I started running home, which was not far away. This town was not built for an earthquake. Everything was falling. People on the road driving were looking around, confused. It’s difficult to feel an earthquake when you’re driving. The quake stopped. I was entering the main street of a neighborhood. A man was just getting out of his car in the driveway and asked “What happened?” and I told him between heavy breaths that there was a 13.2 earthquake before running off again toward home.
The sun had just gone below the horizon. I was almost home. I saw an old lady in a car with the headlights on, and she looked confused. The car had the steering wheel on the right side, and I stopped and asked through the open window if she was ok. She looked at me and stated “My heart won’t start! I’m a hundred and ten years old!” I looked at her more closely, horrified as I realized she was partly decayed. It was as if she would have died at the age she was meant to, and the years until she would have been 110 were applied to the decaying process. I looked around. In the yards next to houses were ‘people’ standing up. They were wearing a black cape with a hood, mumbling “Intrigue. We are intrigue.” The woman in the car screamed sharply. They saw me and started to sprint towards me.
I was at a store in the late afternoon. I was standing between sets of automatic sliding double doors, facing the store. There were polished dark wooden stairs that lead down into the store. There were racks of clothing and a jewelry counter. Typical department store things. The checkout counter was in the back of the store. The walls were the same polished wood as the stairs and floor, high shelves with intricate designs.
It was Black Friday, and the sun was low in the sky. Store capacity was reached and they were only letting in 2 people at a time as 2 people would leave. I finally got in, was looking around, and my little brother was there. He was about 6 years old. He put his leftover breakfast on a shelf and I yelled at him. He told me the food was cold and hard and he didn't want it. I walked over and poked the cheesy eggs. Definitely not cold and hard, but rather gooey. "David..." my voice trailed off as I saw him reaching for a button in the corner of a store. He pressed it, which made the wall above the checkout counter move out into shelves, extending over the counter. Again, I yelled at him, and mid yell the store started shaking. At first I thought it was from the shelves being extended, but no. I looked around and realized it was an earthquake just as a store employee yelled “Everybody out!!!!” Things were falling over. People screaming. Dust in the air. The building was collapsing. Walls crumbling. I was moments from getting out when a chunk of the ceiling fell on me.
I screamed. “Help!! Help me!!!” But everyone kept running out and away. I would have too. I summoned all my strength in a state of panicked adrenaline rush, and managed to roll out from under it and into the street. The ground was still shaking hard. I started running home, which was not far away. This town was not built for an earthquake. Everything was falling. People on the road driving were looking around, confused. It’s difficult to feel an earthquake when you’re driving. The quake stopped. I was entering the main street of a neighborhood. A man was just getting out of his car in the driveway and asked “What happened?” and I told him between heavy breaths that there was a 13.2 earthquake before running off again toward home.
The sun had just gone below the horizon. I was almost home. I saw an old lady in a car with the headlights on, and she looked confused. The car had the steering wheel on the right side, and I stopped and asked through the open window if she was ok. She looked at me and stated “My heart won’t start! I’m a hundred and ten years old!” I looked at her more closely, horrified as I realized she was partly decayed. It was as if she would have died at the age she was meant to, and the years until she would have been 110 were applied to the decaying process. I looked around. In the yards next to houses were ‘people’ standing up. They were wearing a black cape with a hood, mumbling “Intrigue. We are intrigue.” The woman in the car screamed sharply. They saw me and started to sprint towards me.
It's All In My Head
Many family members and friends have repeatedly recommended that I start a dream blog because of the crazy dreams I frequently have. First, a word of caution. My dreams are often very unpleasant, graphic, and violent. I won't be sparing you the details.
Many of my dreams have similar themes, such as being chased. There is an entire world that is slowly being brought together as well as a time line in effect.
I write my dreams as I remember them. There are often gaps in what I remember, backtracking, and parts that are unclear. Sometimes I only remember certain images or a brief moment and not a sequence of events. Sometimes my dreams are so long and complex and detailed I feel they would make great movies. I try to write them out as soon as I can after waking up so the images are still clear, but this also leads to many grammar and spelling errors which I will hopefully go back and edit after my brain is fully awake. My dreams are not like stories in that they have a clear beginning, middle, and end. They usually start in the middle of something and fade out without resolution. The feeling it may create of being an unfinished story is annoying, but these are my dreams which don't translate perfectly into story format.
I dream in color. Usually muted colors, but sometimes bright and vivid.
My dad also has eerie dreams and I will likely post a few of them.
Here goes!
Many of my dreams have similar themes, such as being chased. There is an entire world that is slowly being brought together as well as a time line in effect.
I write my dreams as I remember them. There are often gaps in what I remember, backtracking, and parts that are unclear. Sometimes I only remember certain images or a brief moment and not a sequence of events. Sometimes my dreams are so long and complex and detailed I feel they would make great movies. I try to write them out as soon as I can after waking up so the images are still clear, but this also leads to many grammar and spelling errors which I will hopefully go back and edit after my brain is fully awake. My dreams are not like stories in that they have a clear beginning, middle, and end. They usually start in the middle of something and fade out without resolution. The feeling it may create of being an unfinished story is annoying, but these are my dreams which don't translate perfectly into story format.
I dream in color. Usually muted colors, but sometimes bright and vivid.
My dad also has eerie dreams and I will likely post a few of them.
Here goes!
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