Why? Why does my brain do this to me?
Not even me, apparently.
All too often I wake up in the middle of the night and scratch down a few notes to help me remember the dream I was just having. Then I go back to sleep, eager to experience my next nocturnal adventure.
But sometimes when I wake up I look at those notes and they make absolutely no friggin’ sense.
For example, what do you make of this:
Manboobs
Fury over getting my hours cut back
That makes it impossible for us to have kids over
Luck you!
Him: I don’t FEEL LUCKY…
That doesn’t even ring a bell. I have no idea what I could have been thinking as I wrote that.
However, clearly it must have been a nightmare. Manboobs and all…
It kind of makes me understand how people with early onset Alzheimer’s must feel. Yikes.
This dream dates back to when I was in university… It came the night after I’d been having a theological debate with a friend of mine. She’s a devout Anglican–me, a devout Agnostic.
(I definitely believe in a Higher Purpose that we cannot fathom with our tiny human brains. [Yet.] I also believe that we apprehend only the barest sliver of the reality that surrounds us and am perfectly willing to buy into the idea that some incomprehensible engine that is driving this whole machine.)
… But do I believe that eternal engine is an angry old man who says things like, “… for I the LORD thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me?”
Nope.
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Don't y'all have anything better to do?
Do you ever have those nightmares where something really scary is chasing you and you’re finding it almost impossible to run because you’re soooooo tired and your feet feel like they’re encased in cement and each step takes an eternity and you know that scary monster is going to catch up to you and chomp your head off any second now?
… Have you ever wondered what might happen if you turned around and confronted the beast?
That’s what I did in a dream I had some years ago. And the results were NOT what I expected.
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… And let’s not forget the maniac wielding said chainsaw.
Except, in this case — at least at one point — the chainsaw-wielding maniac was ME.
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I woke up the other morning with the following words repeating in my head :
Half-man Jackwell, let me sing through the skies.
Half-man Jackwell, let me sing through the skies.
… Your guess is as good as mine.
You are slave to my nocturnal whims!
Most experienced lucid dreamers will tell you that in order to make your sleeping mind clue into the fact you’re dreaming, you need to do regular “reality checks.”
But what do you do when your sleeping mind uses your reality check to seriously mess with your head?
That’s what happened to me last night…
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I hate it when my insecurities bubble through into my dreams and ruin a good time.
… Not that being a common foot soldier trudging through a muddy field with the rest of the troops should be considered a good time. But it beats being told you’re a jealous, demanding, unlovable shrew who’s unworthy of her boyfriend’s affections…
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Clearly I Have Issues, Dream Journal | lucid dream girl | 
September 1, 2009 5:05 pm | 
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