Dream Screen

April 18th, 2009

I have friends who take classes to learn how analyze their dreams, but I have no interest in listening to others’ dreams or telling my own.  I usually remember only scraps of a dream anyway, enough to make me feel like I’d been out all night doing something vaguely disreputable. Granted, I do have the occasional pleasant dream in which I have sex with a stranger, and it’s good. Or I run into someone dead who I loved deeply, and that’s good, too. And a couple of times, I’ve even written a short story/film with a real plot in my dream (I swear!) that makes me laugh when I wake up. But mostly my brain during sleep is like a toddler coming home from school and babbling on and on and on, getting facts and names and events all mixed up and making stuff up as it goes along until none of it makes the least bit of sense. And when that’s not happening, my dreamtime is spent running from tsunami, falling off the same damn bridge I always fall off, being late for exams I finished decades ago, breaking up with a man I haven’t seen since 1985, walking around naked in public and being hopelessly lost in my creepy old elementary school basement, which still makes walk-on appearances in my sleep despite having been torn down ages ago. After one of those nights, I wake up wondering why sleep can’t just be a nice white sheet of unknowing instead of the equivalent of going on a bender in the alien-filled Star Wars Cantina. Sometimes I have to wake up and give my soul time to find its way back to my body after all that nocturnal tomfoolery, and then of course, it wants me to get a pen and paper and write down its exploits. Which might read something like, “A dog was trying to talk to me and then Professor Murphy said lets get married after we find the baby I left in the attic and we crawled up there on a conveyor belt but there was an airplane and Professor Murphy made me get on it and then it was a bus but no one would let me sit down and then we back down the conveyor belt and the dog was sad….” Maybe my shrink can spin some gold out of that straw, but I just hope I can keep a straight face when I read it out loud.

3 Responses to “Dream Screen”

  1. kris says:

    “like a toddler coming home from school and babbling on and on and on, getting facts and names and events all mixed up and making stuff up as it goes along until none of it makes the least bit of sense.”

    is the best description of dreams i think i’ve ever heard. thanks for that…..

  2. V-Grrrl says:

    My dreams are often disjointed, nonsensical events as well. Normally when I remember them, I can see the message my subconscious is sending me, and sometimes gain insights into issues that are beneath the surface of my life.

  3. Kathleen Botsford says:

    You make me laugh my butt off!