You’re not a fucking retard. I know this, because you are my brain. You and I have a connection. I like to think I do nice things for you. I let you look at nakkid ladies on-line, soothe you with pleasing music, avoid severe cranial traumas, and so on.
So why do you have to be such a dick about my dreams? You made me a dream-girl who was smokin’ hot. Why did you have her hook up with someone else? And why did you have me suddenly living with my parents again? And for god’s sake why did you make me dream about work after that? WORK!?!
I slept through my alarm clock and my workout for this? Fuck you! What else do you have in store for me on this wonderful lucky Friday?
p.s. Also, not impressed with how you forget my password at work yesterday. In front of the IT guy there to help me, who had to wait while I spent 30 minutes on the phone getting it reset.
Dear Jeff,
You need to calm the hell down. If not for all the constant state of near-panic you keep me in, you’d sleep like a baby. Take a yoga class, for Christ’s sake and maybe we’ll both get some rest.
Interesting timing on this thread. When I have nightmares, I usually wake up right before the really bad part. Not last night. My brain happily painted a disturbing, vivid scene for me, and I didn’t wake up until after it was done. Thanks a lot, subconscious.
I had a horrible dream last night/this morning that my best friend was dead. Put me in a depressed mood all morning…what the hell’s with that? Give me some winning-the-lottery dreams wouldya?
I dreamed last night (well, this morning, actually) that I was trimming my junipers, and dozed off while trimming them*. I woke up in my dream and went around to the back of my house, and floating across the sky was a huge, silver deathstar, amongst other satellites. It was freaky and AWESOME!
*Falling asleep in a dream was strange but relaxing.
I think I got someone else’s dream by mistake last night. I was waiting for a bus in an urban area I’ve never seen before (but in my dream I knew where it was). I get on this bus and realize it’s the wrong bus. I get off and feel this pain in the back of my head and pass out. I’m pretty sure I got shot in the head, although people avoided talking about it. There’s a few random scenes of me in the hospital, learning to do basic stuff like walk and feed myself.
Then the scene dissolves to me sitting on a rooftop with a bunch of black guys. I’m pretty sure it was either a school or an abandoned office building. We were passing a huge blunt around, laughing and joking around. I was rolling another blunt, when we heard sirens. Everyone scattered, and I was trying to scoop up this weed but it kept falling through my fingers like sand. I look down and there’s cop cars surrounding the building, officers shouting incomprehensibly through megaphones at me. I took off into the woods (from the rooftop, don’t ask me how that works). They came after me with dogs. I was caught and sent to jail.
Seriously, wtf? I’m a suburban white-bread boy, never smoked a blunt in my entire life. The only possible explanation is my brain received someone else’s dream by mistake.
Yeah, well, the world blew up in my dreams last night, and I helped to do it.
I know why it did, though. I had a meeting today that I was worried about (that went fine), and I can’t fully convince myself that if I fail big (like flunking a class or being fired from a job for cause), my world won’t come crashing down around my ears.
Brain, how many times do I have to have the dream that an emergency has happened and not one of the bank of phones I see will work to call 911? or the one from this morning where I am on the outskirts of NYC and have to walk miles through the city to get to my destination and I don’t have any cash for a cab?