Kevin's Watch

just this morning i was dreaming that our dog had gotten loose and i was chasing him down the street.

Wyldewode wrote:Umm. . . MM. . . you might want to try your link. It doesn't do what you say it will.

It's a trap! Run!

CovenantJr wrote:

Wyldewode wrote:Umm. . . MM. . . you might want to try your link. It doesn't do what you say it will.

It's a trap! Run!

I had the most fascinating dream last night. I was assigned to do some temporary work at a university some ways from where I lived. The school seemed to be found on some quasireligious principles. By that I mean that the founding philosophy of the school had become in some ways a religion. While in the course of this work, I was in a car accident and lost consciousness. When I awoke I was in huge room with windows, on some sort of couch, and wearing a hospital gown, covered with an inadequate blanket. There was a man standing near, and when I awoke he came over. He was dressed in something that was a cross between a cassock and professor's robes, and had some type of collar piece I've never seen. He initially examined my pupils, and then asked me if I knew where I was. I told him I was in the "Emerson building" and he misheard me. He said, "Yes, that is correct, it is the Ellison building." Then he went on to talk about what had happened, and some mysteries that had been happening on the campus.

The dream went on for some time, and was quite interesting of itself, but the part that stuck with me was the part where I said Emerson and he said Ellison. For a lark, I googled those two names, and came up with the following as the first entry:

Non-Teleological Temporality in Philosophy and Literature: Camus, Achebe, Emerson, Ellison, Hurston, and Nietzsche

I think I may have been watching and talking about Lost too much.

Wyldewode wrote:Umm. . . MM. . . you might want to try your link. It doesn't do what you say it will.

Sorry, here is the proper link:


WHERE ARE THE ACTION FIGURES, T-SHIRTS AND LUNCH BOXES?

I just got up from a dream about tornadoes, then I realize it's raining and hailing outside. Go figure.

i dreamed that julie and i were in a compact car by a sandwich shop in my hometown. it is right down the street from the prison. we were trying to deliver a package sometime after 9pm. i got out of the passenger's side, closed that door and went to the passenger's door on the driver's side. julie was leaning over trying to find the guys number on her cell phone. i opened the door and grabbed a milk crate full of whatever we were delivering. i saw him then, approaching us, he was wearing a panda costume, holding a sword over his head. i started telling julie to start the car. she ignored me. i started screaming at her to start the effin car. still she ignored me. i then pulled out a .38 from a shoulder holster on my right side. turns out i am left handed. and i get a psychic wave from this guy just then. he is a serial killer with bodies buried in his backyard. i empty all 8 shots into his chest, he falls, i wake up.

Two horrible nightmares last night.

One was being trapped in the house I've dreamed of before, and was being chased by some sort of mutant/monster/man creature with a big knife who was killing people and eating them. Each room held different parts that he stored for later. The worst one was the brains one. They had all become mashed down, and I slipped in the pile and fell over. I saw him come around the corner, and I woke up.

Ugh.


The second one was that one of my friends had been kidnapped by some sort of company or group, so my friends and I raided their offices to find him. I held up a secretary for the floor he was on, and took the elevator. Only, the building was an X-dimensional spaec (bigger on the inside than the outside) and there was an entire landscape to be searched. The elevator turned into a tram (I've been in this world before) and we zoomed along above the world. Something shot at the the tram and it fell off. I woke up again.



The worst part is that I've been in these places before, many many times. I feel like I'm supposed to FINISH the damn things, but I keep waking up. *sigh*

I hate nightmares.

i actually enjoy my nightmares. they are better than television.

My faction in Borderlands again.
I hate the processing time between Orders and Reports. It's a necessary evil...
...but my imagination goes into overtime...
Too bad I don't have the words to write what I dream.

Two dreams last night:

1) I was trying to buy the ingredients to make an experimental curry. One of these ingredients was some imaginary thing that looked like a big yoghurt pot full of of blackcurrants. Apparently my dream believed this was some form of bean. I kept spilling these berries/beans all over the floor every time I moved. When I eventually managed to leave the shop, Arnold Schwarznegger chased me and arrested me for being a spy.

2) A friend introduced me to Kirsten Dunst, who promptly fainted because she was extremely ill. I carried her for a bit. She woke up. So did I.

*shrug* No idea.

I have trouble sleeping, and therefore rarely dream.

They gave me Klonopin to take so I would sleep.

BAM! Slept like the dead, but I don't remember any dreams.

Whatever Klonopin is, its good stuff.

www.drugs.com/klonopin.html

i've had it for sleep as well.

Thanks, Sarge! You are right on top of things, aren't you?

sgt.null wrote:i actually enjoy my nightmares. they are better than television.

For the most part, I enjoy mine as well. Sometimes they even give me story ideas.

sgt.null wrote:i actually enjoy my nightmares. they are better than television.

Nightmares are awesome.

Happy dreams are depressing.

I don't know that I've ever had a happy dream.

Auleliel wrote:I don't know that I've ever had a happy dream.

If you wake up crying, you may have had one.

You know. Those dreams where everything is perfect. That special someone never really left you and broke your heart. All those bad things were just a dream -- this is reality. And then you wake up, and you expect that person to be right there, next to you, when you wake up. But they're not. And then you remember. And at first you think you're not going to cry. You got over it a long time ago, you think. You're not going to cry. You won't let yourself cry. And then, it feels like someone's stabbed you in the chest. And you realise that she's gone. And not only that, but that one by one, they're all disappearing. That they're something wrong when you're not even out of your twenties and most of the people who meant something to you are dead, or might as well be. And that the hardest thing is to go on. Because it's getting harder and harder to find reasons. And the tears come. They come like they're never going to end. You cry until it hurts to cry. Until it hurts to breathe. You cry until you run out of tears, and still you are wracked with sobs. And then you start to laugh. A little at first. Strangely. And then it comes again. And again. And soon you're laughing. And you can't stop. And you ask yourself, inside, with that dim, distant part of your self that is aware of what is going on, "Is this the time that I'm not going to come back from this? Is this the time the rubber band of my sanity is finally going to snap? Will I be in a straight jacket in some padded room tomorrow, drooling on myself?"

But eventually it stops.

And as time goes on, it happens less and less.

But every now and then, someone will say something that she used to say. Or you'll be playing a game that you and she used to play. Or you'll sing a song to your godson that your grandfather used to sing to you. Or you'll see someone who can't hold a cup of coffee without their hand jerking this way and that and spilling it, and wonder what it's going to be like to be like that. Or you'll meet someone who hasn't yet had the world shit all over them. Who hasn't yet realised that the world is exactly what it appears to be. That there are no innocents anymore. That there never were. You'll remember what it was like to be like that. Innocent. Happy. Naive. Ignorant. Virginal. Untarnished. Pure. Alive. And you'll remember the hell you went through that made you lose it. And the pain will come again.

We all have to find our own way of coping with the pain of living. It's what we do and who we are, and the thing that makes us human at all, I think. We fashion meaning out of chaos and pain, and like a phoenix, we rise out of the ashes new-made and achingly beautiful.

emotional leper wrote:

Auleliel wrote:I don't know that I've ever had a happy dream.

If you wake up crying, you may have had one.

The only time I ever woke up crying (over 15 years ago), I had just dreamed that my grandmother kidnapped my little sister.
I have yet to have any experiences to lead to the sort of dream you mentioned.
Sounds painful, though.

I had a terrible dream the other night and I can't get it out of my head. I dreamt this little baby, like 10-11 months old was somehow trapped under a car and the driver started backing up. I started screaming to stop and running to the car. I jumped onto the hood and was beating it with my fist yelling, "Stop, stop!" The driver finally stopped and I grabbed the baby. The baby wasn't crying but I couldn't tell if the baby was dead. Then I woke up.