Tag Archives: dreams

I Have Had a Dream, Past the Wit of Man to Say What Dream it Was

I just woke up from a dream that I have to write down. Most of my dreams are strange, I never outgrew the imagination phase of childhood. I frequently am a pirate, or I am a witch excavating the ruins of an alien city, or recently a dinosaur farmer. For those who are unfamiliar with dinosaur farming, it’s like owning a ranch, but with gigantic lizard-like beasts instead of cows.

Today’s dream is brought to you by Al Pacino. I’m dreaming I’m in the mafia. My mafia dreams are more like the Jets vs. the Sharks than the Sopranos, by the way. I have to kill these two guys who are going to try to kill me once they realize how important I am in the family. I’m injecting poison into some ravioli to serve them when they come in for dinner at my restaurant.

Now here’s where it gets weird. On my side is a young Ron Howard from Happy Days. He is dressed like the Man in Black from the Princess Bride. Both of these things do not seem abnormal to my sleeping self. Ron tells me he will serve the bad guys the poison ravioli. I tell him no, it’s too dangerous, but courageous Ron does not know the meaning of danger.

Ron Howard in full pirate attire leaves the kitchen with the ravioli and goes to the table where the bad guys are sitting. But no! Something about the situation must have tipped these cunning gangsters off because they pull out their guns! Ron starts to run, but he gets shot in the back. I will avenge you, Ron! I come running out of the kitchen, firing both my guns (which have magically appeared in my hands) and start shooting at the bad guys.

Let it be noted that I am a pacifist, and although I have used magic, my ninja skills, and a shovel to kill bad guys and zombies in my dreams, I NEVER use guns. It is unusual for me to dream about guns, which is I think why after firing all my bullets I didn’t hit anything. The bad guys and myself looked at each other for a second, pondering our next move, and then my alarm went off and I woke up.

Now I need to make myself lunch. When I return with the next installment, I will tell the cyber-verse about my dream where Dave Coulier with green eyeshadow and a faux-hawk is a Terminator sent to destroy me. I don’t know why.

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Radical Thoughts on Dreams and Imagination

I have always had an overactive imagination. Sometimes the people I read about or conversations I rehearse in my head take up more space and time than my actual relationships and responsibilities. I would probably be a very successful person, if I wasn’t so busy daydreaming all the time.

Can't you see I'm terribly busy? In my MIND.

Can’t you see I’m terribly busy? In my MIND.

In my mind I’ve had tea with Elizabeth Bennet, locked eyes with a handsome (yet also witty and down-to-earth) celebrity across a crowded room, and even slipped poison into the chalice of a malicious king, an act which I knew to be treason and would probably be killed for but which would save the kingdom from almost certain peril.

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I have been known to sing along to songs in public, and I once choreographed a modern dance to Pat Benetar barefoot in my living room. This overtly crazy behavior is reenforced by the movies and books I surround myself with.

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Regrettably, being an adult doesn’t always allow for goofing off time, which is so vital to my general sense of well being. The annoying part is that when I am busy being a productive citizen of the world, working hard, paying bills, wearing blazers, I get into a routine that doesn’t encourage flights of fancy, and I will find myself unhappy for no apparent reason at all.

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As I cannot identify the source of my unhappiness I become gradually more and more depressed, until I feel my spiral of depression and anxiety leak out of my ears and into puddles behind me. I’ll tell others that I’m sick or tired because I honestly don’t have a good answer for them.

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Reality is a bummer that constantly tries to drown out my imagination. This is evident in the world of dreams. When as a kid I would dream of magic and mayhem, now as an adult I often dream that I’m late for work, or that I’m unprepared for an assignment or presentation. Even my nightmares turn from monsters with big elbows who lurk in soggy places to a trip to the dentist. These mundane thoughts become more and more abundant as I get older, and I sometimes worry that some day I will not be able to remember the vast landscapes and colorful characters I once dreamt of so often as a child.

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But last night I swear I had a dream I was a ballerina witch who was collecting puzzle pieces that when put together would show me a map to the source of magic. And tonight, who knows? I might be a pirate who kills zombies on a submarine to protect my little sister. I hope so. I hope dreams of this nature will continue to plague me throughout my adult life. Some non-believers could call me flighty, misguided, even high-maitenance. I choose to call myself inspired, a person of faith and passion.

A last word to all the dreamers and believers out there, keep it up, the world is more interesting because of you.

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