Dreams

I love them, and I remember them as well.

Sometimes they are vivid and require a lot of heroics on my part. Sometimes they are serene, and if I wake up, I regret it and try to hurriedly go back to sleep and recapture “the scene”, which doesn’t ever work.

A couple of nights ago, I was dreaming of a very beautiful lady (who happens to be a co-worker) in a white silk gown lying next to me with her head snuggled against my chest. It was nothing sexual. I was just enjoying her presence and her nearness. Every now and then she would raise her pretty head and give me a kiss, and God what a feeling that was! I just held her and she felt so good being beside me!

It was nice. She, of course, will never know about that dream. :smiley:

“In dreams, I walk with you” - Roy Orbison

Tell me about the dreams you remember and want to get back to…

Quasi

I never seem to remember the good ones…only the terrifying horrid ones where I wake up panting and so shook up I can’t go back to sleep. Lucky me. :wink:

The worst one I ever had was a few years ago. I dreamed me, my oldest son and my father were at this huge waterfall at a state park we have visited several times. My son was leaning close to the edge and I kept saying to move back as I was walking down the rocks to get to him. My father was standing near him and turned to say something to me and my son fell. It is a gigantic dropoff and I watched my son fall in slow motion as my father tried to reach over the edge. I ran down the rocks and leaned over the edge calling out to him as he was falling. He hit the water and went under and I jumped over myself. I could feel the air hitting my face and just as I was about to hit the water I woke up with a gasp.

Even thinking about that dream now makes my heart race.

And now that I think about it…I guess “dream” isn’t what you would call that but “nightmare…”

Your dream sounded nice. Maybe you will have it again soon. :slight_smile:

Last night I dreamed a moose was chasing me. It wasn’t good.

Lissen you! Goddammit! This is twice I have sputtered saliva all over my screen! (The other time was when you posted what you did about cooking the pig’s feet!) :D:D:D

How about a warning next time, Mr. Dry Humor?

JK, Chefguy, but you do make me laugh!

:smiley:

Q

Thank you, Aries! I wish you only good ones from here on out!

Q

My sexual dreams are stupid. I mean, the stuff a 8 year old boy might fantisize about.

I had a doozy this morning, but I can’t remember it. It was something about drinking and my family.

The worst is when I start lucid dreaming and forget what is supposed to come next.

Most of the good dreams I have aren’t good so much because of their content/setting/story so much as I just get a good feeling from them. The emotion is part of the dream, rather than a response to it.

Similarly, I have absolutely terrifying and disturbing dreams that are just funny or amusing in the telling, and don’t sound particulary frightening. For example, I dreamt I was at a lumberjack show, and one of the lumberjacks lifted a huge log upright over his head, and very cartoon-syle, it fell straight down and smooshed him to nothing. Then there was a big explosion-- I remember thinking perhaps he had a lighter in his pocket. Ok, so the dying/explosion parts are understandably a little scary, but a lumberjack show, of all things? It just sounds so silly when I put it down. But in the dream, it was this horrible, pit-of-your-stomach disaster.

Many of my good dreams are similar in the sense that the emotion doesn’t match up to the events of the dream. Some of my best dreams have been very vague content-wise, and have no apparent reason to make me feel good, yet I’ve had such an incredible sense of well-being from them that I was very disappointed to wake up.

Dreams are tricky things. My last vivid dream contained a part where a woman that I occasionally BS with on-line came to tell me not to regret paths I’d taken in the past…that the future would vindicate me. In the dream, she looked & dressed exactly like Liv Tyler in Lord Of The Rings (flowing white dress).

A few days later, a dreams thread popped up on the board we both post to. I told her it was just a dream, but she became severely agitated & pissed at me for having ‘dirty’ (?) dreams about her.

I must be such a perv… (wtf?)

Nuthin’ funny about it, sir. The whole thing (the dream) took place at the house where I grew up. It was winter and the damn thing was trapped in the back yard because we forgot to leave the gate open (hey, I don’t know how it got in there in the first place; it was a dream, okay?). Anyhow, we couldn’t leave the house via the back door, because the durn thing was making aggressive moves every time we cracked the door open.

So I go outside to open the gate, the moose spots me (a big mean bull with a full rack), and the chase is on. I was rounding the third corner of the house, with said ungulate hot on my heels, when I woke up having to take a leak (damned diabetes). Hopped out of bed and nearly fell down, cuz my leg muscles were tight as bow strings from all that dream-running.

Moose, by the way, are nothing to be trifled with. Much more dangerous than bears.

I’ve had dreams like that. One in particular I remember took place on Christmas Eve. I don’t remember anything that happened in the dream, I just remember standing next to a Christmas tree. I woke up thinking of a song, which I must have heard in my dream. When I woke up I felt really happy for some reason.

Most of the time my dreams are horrifying nightmares, from which I barely escape with my life. (Apparently, it’s a side effect from the atenolol I take for high blood pressure.) My doctor offered to change the medication for me, but I declined. I’ve come to kind of like the nightmares. :rolleyes:

I’ve had a few funny dreams too, though. A couple nights ago I dreamed I could open beer bottles by clenching the twist-off caps between the cheeks of my ass. But no one would take a beer from me.

I’ve had a few dreams that have caused me to wake up laughing. One of them was a Star Trek:TOS dream, but I don’t remember the details.

Those are good dreams.

A good dream with vivid imagery:

I was working at a summer camp again. There were a bunch of us riding in the back of an open truck (they used to transport campers in these kinds of vehicles sometimes). It was late afternoon, and the sun was shining down through the trees on the mountain that sloped up on our left. Everything was beautiful, gold sunlight afternoon sunlight shining through the green leaves and lighting them up.

Except for one tree. Up the hill, a little ways back, there was a blue tree. It was electric blue, kinda like blue neon lights, but beautiful. It was especially beautiful in the midst of all the green and gold trees around it.

I only saw it for a minute. Then we rounded a curve and it was out of sight. But the image of it has been stuck in my mind for years and years and years.

And then in my dream, we arrived at a building. I walked up on the porch and saw a gumball machine. Inside the gumball machine was my cat, sitting there looking disgusted at me. I burst out laughing and said “Michaelmouse, how did you get in there???” He just gave me Stupid-Human-I’m-A-Cat look.

So I put a penny in the machine to get him out.

A poignant dream:

The night after my dog Sasha died, I dreamed I could look down into the time stream and see all the animals of the past going by. I saw Sasha as a pup and was able to pick her out and hold her and pet her one more time. But in my dream, Robert couldn’t see her. To him, it looked like I was just miming stroking a puppy.

I was sad he couldn’t see her too. Then I had to let her go…

Most of my dreams are annoyingly mundane. Like if I have a test, the night before I’ll dream that I got the test back and did really badly. Usually I don’t feel any emotion, but occasionally I’m scared.

This April though, I had a really cool one while I was hepped up on cough syrup and Benedryl and stuff. It’s too long to post here, but you can read it here. I was a young man (in reality, I’m a female), and I had to rescue a princess from my evil uncle. Then we went to see a show troupe, only the troupe decided to kill all the aristocrats, only we were in the back of the amitheatre so we could get out in time… it was way better than I’m explaining here, but of course you can read about it. It was like an RPG.

I’ve had one sexual dream, but it wasn’t erotic. I was with some guy (no one in the real world), and we had a list of sexual positions, so we would do one, then cross it off and rest a bit, then do another one. There were no real feelings attached to it.

Truly funny dream last night.

I have a beau I really don’t see enough of. He’s opening a garage and is currently the only mechanic, so he works 14-hour days. I often dream that we are hanging out doing something mundane and simple, but that we are together. These dreams often leave me feeling kinda happy, until I realize they are only dreams. At which point I often use very bad words.

Last night, I had just such a dream. I woke up enough to realize that I had been dreaming about sleeping with him, and sleep-wrestling over the quilt. So, I swore. Loudly.

He woke up!! And he gave me back the quilt!! And laughed his ass off when I told him why I’d shouted out loud.

It was a very good dream!

I’m prone to nightmares when I’m particular exhausted, in pain, or taking cold medicine, but this thread is (theoretically) about good dreams.

Perhaps the best of mine, and one to which I return from time to time, is a vivid flying dream. I dream of flying in the shape of a hawk, with a startling degree of realism. I can feel keel muscles straining against air resistance, and the subtle shifts in the lay of my feathers. I have no sense of smell in the dream (I think I did early on, before I learned that raptors don’t have one), and my vision is incredibly sharp. I fly over a vast, grassy plain dotted with occasional clumps of trees until I come to the edge of an forest of ancient trees along the edge of seaside cliffs. I dive toward the forest edge, and as I flare my wings to land, my legs stretch out before me, changing into human legs, then I walk under the trees in man-shape.

In the depths of the forest is a small temple of an ancient Greek style, and in the center of the temple is a small chime, flanked by two pools of water. The pool on the left reflects a sunny sky, while the pool on the right reflects only stars, even though the roof above them is solid. I sit between them and strike the chime, then let my hands rest in the pools. The sun-pool is warm, and the star-pool is cool, and as the sound of the chime ends and the silence begins, I feel the light surging up my left arm. It washes through me, driving something dark before it, until the last of the darkness has flowed away into the star-pool.

I always wake up from the dream with a calm, peaceful feeling.

I have two that I can think of that are worth mentioning… I had forgotten about them, they occurred so long ago, but this thread suddenly brought them back up to a conscious level.

The first occurred while I was still in high school. My best friend, a good friend, and I were in my best friend’s home. It was very cold - the house had no heat, and we were trying to keep warm with coffee.

A series of murders had occurred in our little town, perpetrated by a mysterious figure in a creepy green mask. Witnesses had said that the face was quite distorted, almost melted, and that a shoulder length mess of gray hair fell from the back. The murderer also wore a tuxedo, and wielded a butcher knife. My friends and I were discussing this.

After a while, my two pals decide to go out back and smoke, as this would warm them up a bit more. I stayed behind and sat, meditatively, in the foyer. A moment passes, and the front door slowly opens. It is, as you might have guessed, the murderer.

The killer lunged at me, slashing his blade. I, being a martial arts enthusiast, moved within the range of the blow, blocked his forearm, and grabbed on tight. But he was so damn strong that I could not affect his balance, or perform any disarming technique at all. It was just his brute strength against my failing muscles, his blade inches from my face, and all the while, through the mask, I saw his maniacal eyes just burning into me.

Knowing that three men could easily take care of this one, I tried to shout for my friends out back, but no noise came out of my mouth. I tried again, and failed once more. Knowing that if I didn’t get help ASAP I would die, I sucked in as much air as I could, and summoned every bit of willpower I had. I shouted, again, and again, and again. My friends did not come.

And I awoke. My father shook me awake. It turns out that I was really screaming in my sleep. This had not happened before, nor has it happened since. This has bothered me greatly.

The second dream occurred the night that my second true love ended our relationship. I was decked out in the armor of a knight- a form fitting chest plate over a chain mail shirt, greaves, boots, and a gray cape secured by a golden clasp. I stood, , standing guard before a single stone tower in the middle of a barren field. The sun was setting, and the sky was so beautiful.

My fair lady approached on a steed. She wore a white gown and a laurel-leaf crown. I helped her off of her mount, and led her into the tower, up to the top floor, where a master bedroom had been prepared for her. She lay down upon the bed, and fell asleep. I stood guard all night, standing at the single window, my hand resting upon the hilt of my sword, the sword tip placed upon the ground. Every now and then I glanced back at her. She seemed so content, so happy.

The sun rose, and I woke her. I led her back down and out of the tower, helped her on to her steed, and watched her ride off over the horizon. Then I wanted to cry, but couldn’t, and wanted to cast off my armor and my sword, but couldn’t. I just sighed instead, and remembered her touch.

For some reason, this dream pleases me, even now.

I usually have abstract dreams about anything that went on, or that I remembered that day. I’ve also had dreams about choices I made in the day, except, instead of doing what I really did, I choose the other option. Its neat to see what happens. Sometimes when that happens I pick the same thing I did in real life, showing me that I would have chosen that option no matter what.
I find that if I read before I go to bed my dreams become more vivid and I remember them better. I had to stop reading Dune at night because I had a dramatic effect on what I dreamt about. Things just got too…real.

Mine are usually weird - which I like - and they have an odd tendency to be episodic. There will be two ‘storylines,’ or alternating bits that repeat with some variation or progression, that usually meet up in the end. The most recent example was two nights ago, when scenes of me attempting to get over the death of a friend [this rarely happens, but I know what inspired this bit: in real life, this friend survived a car crash he had no right to] was paired up with me shooting a scene in a film with Jim Breuer and some other people.

Last night there was some stuff about Osama bin Laden’s injuries. :confused:

Before we were married, I brought the potential Mrs. Fool to meet my widowed mother, who lived across the country.
The first night there I dreamed about my father; He came into the bedroom, woke me up, kissed me and told me I’d made the right choice.
Mrs. Fool and I have been together 20 years.

I love interpreting dreams. I don’t know if you could sell me fully on the idea that all dreams have a deep, shrouded meaning, but when trying to rationalize and explain them to yourself, you often come across one anyway, and more often than not, in itself, the explanation you come up with is something you wouldn’t otherwise have consciously admitted or thought about. Sort of like the deep meaning bubbles to the surface when you’re trying to interpret it, even if the dream itself doesn’t mean anything. Subconscious ink blot cards.