had a dream once that I was in a spaceship with two members of NSync, it was funny in a way. We were trying to make our way to a singing competition and we got lost and ended up on the street where I live. The spaceship was identical to the one from Futurama except it was red and purple. I wasnt an Nsync fan at the time so Ive no idea why I dreamt of them.
Earlier tonight I fell asleep in my clothes and I dreamt I woke up, got changed and closed the window. I then dreamt of theexact same thing except this time I was freaked out because I knew Id already done this. I then woke up and realised I was dreaming - it was a bit of a relief.
I recently dreamed that I was attending an awards dinner for my work, and the awards involved private rooms and women dressed in leather and holding whips.
Damn alarm clock …
This one is a recurring dream for me as well, for the past two decades, very much like you say, except I run around the beach telling people the Tsunami is coming, and then, the Dream pulls up into a aerial view of the approaching wave. Usually wake up before it hits. Heart beating hard.
Speaking of recurring dreams, does anyone else ever have the one where you realize it’s almost noon and you didn’t go to work, and you can’t think of an excuse as to why you haven’t come in or called? I had that one last night, and I have it pretty often.
I dreamed I was looking through the cupboard for inspiration for what to make for dinner. You know how some boxes and packages have recipies on them, suggestions for how to use that food-substance as an ingredient in a dish? So I pick up a box of lasagna, the old-fashioned flat wide noodles with the ruffled edges, and on the back is a recipe for a dish called Sleep, Frankie Murdered. And in concise recipe-like instructions it explains that you kill your husband and make an italian pasta dish with sauce using his body as meat-source.
This is a bit of an aside, not a particular Freaky dream, but one that might apply to the dreamers here, as a good subset, and I’m wonderin’. My dreams most often are fully articulated other worlds, with the beings inhabiting , mostly human, sometimes not. But, they are usually fully real in that dream space, very clear personalities, as real as any as in the regular world. And not echoes of people I know in real life. It’s a whole other world, as real and vivid as the waking one.
When I describe those dreams to my coworkers, a good open-minded bunch, they tell me that’s not their experience with dreams. Anyone care to add on that?
Well ellele, these have slacked off for awhile, but for many years now I’ve dreamed of what I call the “Boremare” universe; a place of total stasis, where nothing ever happens and nothing really matters. You all are describing dead babies and zombie stepmothers and so on and that’s scary I guess, but I think this place is as good a Hell as any. It’s like a shadow version of our world, but “off” in certain indefinable ways; specifically I cannot connect with any people there and invariably wander through it alone. When I’m in it, it is usually unsettling because I can never actually do anything significant or meaningful. Women wander in and then they wander out. Sometimes it involves driving on endless roads to nowhere. The setting however has moderated over the years as I’ve come to accept it, but nonetheless I recognize it instantly whenever I find myself there.
A decade ago I drove From Austin to San Francisco and back to attend a friend’s wedding. I had a rider for the Austin to Las Vegas legs, but I drove alone beyond Vegas. In the San Joaquin Valley on the way back, I woke up and realized that I had fallen asleep at the wheel and an 18-wheeler had run me almost off the road. Not nearly awake, I skidded one way after another as if I was blown by the wind and I couldn’t figure out which way was forward to straighten out.
A second later I woke up and realized that I was still parked where I stopped to take a nap. My car had moved a little when the semi had driven past.
My body had failed and they had given me a brain transplant (in the background). I was now a slightly pudgy young man of apparently Hispanic descent. I remember looking in the mirror in my folks’ bathroom trying to see the scar (which was well-hidden under the mop of black hair). “The tatoo on the arm is kinda cool, and maybe I’ll be able to lose some of this weight.” It was only then that the realization flooded in that I’ll never again be the tall, skinny redhead and I started bawling. That was it. A little on the disturbing side.
I was riding in the back of my van fornicating with a prostitute, missionary style, that was pregnant. I became more and more forceful in my efforts causing the woman to plead and scream for me to stop but I could feel the time was to close to quit. The look on her face of pure horror. When I finally came it caused her to abort on the spot covering me and my interior with blood and fetus. Horrible dream that was. It was so surreal; I can still see the night sky through the sunroof of my van. Light wisps of clouds in front of the moon, a light breeze blowing across my face from the open window. I don’t know who the hell was driving. I frequently have dreams where I am trying to kill someone with a knife but they will not die. I cut them to ribbons, blood and guts everywhere, still they wont die. I always awake before I am able to kill them. Some sick ass shit. I was almost afraid to share it, but what the hell. They’re only dreams.
Last night I had the freakiest dream I have had, ever. Though freaky doesn’t begin to do it justice. Neither does creepy, horrifying, or disturbing.
I was floating down a murky river, with fog on all sides of me. The water was a dingy gray, the fog a charcoal gray. I wasn’t in the water though. Instead, I was floating a few inches above the water, like I was standing on a moving sidewalk.
Scattered throughout the fog were family, friends, and enemies. Every so often the would be a waterfall, dropping me further down, the fog getting darker, the water getting choppier. The deceased kept urging me on, while a voice I couldn’t place in the dream, and still can’t, kept warning me not to go on. Every time a warning came, I would find myself back up one waterfall.
What made it all the creepier is that when I woke, all three of my dogs were howling, something they’ve never done before.
I was dreaming but it didn’t feel like it; I thought it was reality. In my dream, my husband had died (I don’t remember how), and I was trying to drag myself through my life while mourning him. It felt like weeks passed and I was still miserable. Then I woke up, and I was in bed next to what felt like my husband; the size and smell were right, but it was dark so I couldn’t see. I knew I must be dreaming since of course he was dead, so I almost started crying because of how cruel the dream was being to me - and then it slowly dawned on me that no, I was awake. That the part about him dying weeks ago and all the time passed since then was actually a single dream, and that he really was alive and well and in our bed. It took all I could muster to not throw my arms around him right then, waking him up from a sound sleep. He did get extra-good kisses as I left for work that morning, but weeks or months passed before I could bring myself to tell him about that dream. I still felt weird during the day because I actually felt like I had experienced his death and weeks of mourning, and I felt so disoriented.