Many of my best dreams have Marlon Brando in them for some reason. At the begining of the dream he is bored with being overweight and wants to be handsome and slim and make movies more regularly. He works on a film with Val Kilmer and admires him so pays money to occupy his body.
Sounds better than this movie already.
^I gathered that my subconscious had raided my trivia store for that film.
I had the rather unpleasant dream that I was committed after being diagnosed with both schizophrenia and dissociative identity disorder.
The dream began after I saw a haggard man who looked like this guy wandering around my backyard. At first my family thought he was just some snoop, but when I saw him right out back in plain sight but my sister didn’t, it became clear I was hallucinating.
In short order, I was brought to a psychiatric hospital, where they assigned me a doctor and started treating me with drugs. The drugs did very little for me, however, and I soon began experiencing perpetual states of altered consciousness; it was what I imagine a bad acid trip to be like, only without the prospect of the trip ever ending. On top of that, I manifested a split personality – a female personality who was incredibly foul-mouthed and violent. Due to these factors, they had me restrained to my bed, though I found ways to wriggle loose.
My attending psychiatrist appeared with two different shapes. First she looked like Rosie O’Donnell (ugh), then she took on the form of a young, pre-short hair Jamie Lee Curtis (much better).
Last night I had a crazy, convoluted, nonsensical dream where I was back in the late '60s or early '70s. John Lennon and Yoko Ono were there, and so were a crap-ton of Jedi with lightsabers of every possible colour and hue.
I had a dream I was the playable character in an X-rated combination of ActRaiser and Super Mario RPG: Legend of the Seven Stars.
That’s all I’ll say about that.
There’s an interesting rom hack of SMRPG that’s about doing drugs. It’s pretty funny.
[obligatory mushroom joke]
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There’s plenty.
I had a half lucid dream last night but didn’t quite make it out of the “well this is all very weird” stage and into the “oh I’m dreaming” stage.
Also I had a dream where my brother was dead and it took me a bit to convince myself that it wasn’t real once I woke up. That wasn’t great.
Keep Circulating the Tapes.
END OF LINE
(It hasn’t happened yet)
I was having weird lucid dreams this morning where I knew I was dreaming. I even kept thinking “I should probably wake up soon… I wonder what time it is?” Even though I was definitely in a dream. It was bizarre. And I felt very drained when I woke up.
I was having weird lucid dreams this morning where I knew I was dreaming. I even kept thinking “I should probably wake up soon… I wonder what time it is?” Even though I was definitely in a dream. It was bizarre. And I felt very drained when I woke up.
Yeah, that’s usually where I end up. Once in awhile you can will stuff to happen in my experience, which is pretty neat, but super rare.
Keep Circulating the Tapes.
END OF LINE
(It hasn’t happened yet)
I had a dream that basically served as an alternate second season to Stranger Things. Eleven had returned, but the events of the first season finale had left her so traumatized that she mentally regressed to the state of a toddler; she no longer knew how to use her powers and she was forced to wear a diaper all the time. I became her guardian and had to protect her from a nigh-unkillable demoniac who was hunting her; the fucker was so strong that all the damage I dealt to his body only slowed him down. And to make my job all the harder, he had the power of mesmerism; he could enslave others to his will with a glance.
There were other details to the dream, but they’ve slipped my mind.
I began watching the third season of Twin Peaks a couple days ago. Consequently, I had Lynchian dreams last night.
Shame I can’t recall them at all.
I dreamed I watched an early-to-mid '70s romantic comedy starring Jane Fonda, Lily Tomlin, and Roy Scheider.
Fonda played an unmarried-and-unattached woman with a modestly successful modelling career who had a crush on a millionaire with a pornstache. Tomlin played her best friend. Together, they were planning on taking a skiing vacation to Colorado, but they got on the wrong bus and wound up in New York City instead. There, Fonda met and fell for Scheider’s character, who was a cantankerous, misanthropic anarchist who always talked to himself in the mirror and wore his hair slicked back and the top buttons of his black T-shirt unbuttoned.
I dreamed that Disney was remaking A New Hope, and a guerrilla crew of faneditors had sneaked onto the set during filming of the Tantive IV attack. In this remake there were green lightsabers and lasers, and the fanediting crew was trying to film alternate angles of the action in order to ‘improve’ some of the less than fantastic shots of the original film.
Then the dream shifted and I was watching The Phantom Menace, except that it was made during the 50’s with the old Lucas story sensibility and style. Because of this, the old, grainy film began on a desolate Tatooine that had recently undergone some sort of environmental collapse. The air was full of dust and 12 year old Anakin wandered a wasteland littered with nuclear-age debris. He wandered into an old-west style town with adobe buildings, and the ragged humanity peered out of darkened windows as he passed. I noticed that the live action was poorly composited into matte paintings which extended the vista of the destroyed city. Then I woke up.
You probably don’t recognize me because of the red arm.
Episode 9 Rewrite, The Starlight Project (Released!) and ANH Technicolor Project (Released!)
Then the dream shifted and I was watching The Phantom Menace, except that it was made during the 50’s with the old Lucas story sensibility and style. Because of this, the old, grainy film began on a desolate Tatooine that had recently undergone some sort of environmental collapse. The air was full of dust and 12 year old Anakin wandered a wasteland littered with nuclear-age debris. He wandered into an old-west style town with adobe buildings, and the ragged humanity peered out of darkened windows as he passed.
O hai, Personal Canon No. 3.
I frequently have dreams that sort of overlap with previous dreams to tell a story. Often I dream that my dad didn’t die but got very depressed and stormed out abandoning us as kids. He lives on his own and barely leaves his small flat. Sometimes he has tried to reconnect with my mum but he is too proud to come back. In my dream I got on a bus with a co worker. It’s a summer’s day and children are having some sort of sports day and my coworker is wanting to pass on a message to her daughter. Up on a grassy bank I spot my mum talking to a guy. I know him from other dreams. He has a daughter and his wife died and they are both enjoying eachother’s company. I feel happy for them both but feel sad for my dad because I know he is fighting his lack of confidence to ask my mum if he can come back. This dream world is so real that when I begin to wake up and hear my partner milling around our house I think he is my dad and I have stayed at his flat. The smokers cough is almost identical. My dad died around this time of the year. He was only 50 and I am 47. It feels weird to think that soon I will be older than he ever was and I am still putting him in this unhappy dream rather than accepting he got cancer and died. Mortality is a collosal pain in the arse if you don’t believe in heaven.
Here’s the last dream I had. Were I someone else, I’d consider it a nightmare. But since I find real life far more frightening than 99% of my dreams, this was a quirky ride through my subconscious funhouse instead.
I was invited to a party being held at this spacious mansion. When I got in, I found that I was one of hundreds of guests present. The door locked behind me, and I found I couldn’t escape from the place. The hostess turned out to be the ghost of a woman who resembled Charlotte Rampling; she kept her own perfectly preserved corpse strung up and used as a marionette.
I went up to the bar and ordered a glass of absinthe. Even though I was clearly thirty years old, the bartender refused to sell me any alcohol without first presenting ID. I didn’t have any ID on me, so the bartender refused to serve me the drink. I spent much of the rest of the dream wandering about the mansion in search of absinthe, but couldn’t procure any. I even came across someone else’s derelict glass of absinthe, but when I picked it up, it turned into a cup of coffee before my eyes. In between trying to satisfy my absinthe craving, I tried ordering White Russians as an alternative, much to the same degree of success.
At one point in the dream, I met Tori Amos, who got flirtatious with me. I repaid the favour, only to have her almost immediately sour towards me and ignore me henceforth.
I took a long nap this afternoon and had several different dreams that faded in and out, but I remember only a few moments of one with any clarity. I was aimlessly roaming around what seemed like a college campus, and I came across my brother and father having an argument. They were well into it by the time I found them. I asked what they were arguing about.
DAD: “We’re preparing for your death.”
Apparently, they were planning to kill me, and were quite happy about it. My brother splashed bleach in my eyes and I ran away.
DAD: “Don’t you want to die? You talk about it a lot. Are you too cowardly?”
I didn’t have an answer. I looked back at his face, and the scene dissolved into the image of my bedroom ceiling fan, but there were several lights in it instead of one, and they were arranged in a way that resembled my father’s face.
.
Here’s a dream I had last night.
I paid a visit to my local library. While at the check-out counter, I saw that a new librarian had been brought on staff. She was five-to-ten years younger than I and rather short, only about five-feet tall. She wore her ash blond hair short and feathered, and her eyes were blue and watery. She wasn’t gorgeous, but she certainly was pretty. She was wearing a gray-and-cream striped T-shirt which really hugged her modest but perky chest.
We got to talking. That’s when she made it clear to me in no uncertain terms that if we weren’t in such a public place, she’d jump my bones right then and there. We then made arrangements to meet somewhere after she got off of work to fool around.
I got the sense this woman was going to be nothing but One Night at McCool’s-styled trouble.
.
.
Yeah, those dreams are double-edged swords. They make you feel great while you’re having them, but once they end, you feel worse than you did before they started.
when I started to ask if she was free any time next week, she looked as though she was genuinely afraid of me.
Oof, that hit home…
I recently had a dream where I watched a version of TPM where Ric Olié was played by Nicolas Cage instead of Ralph Brown.
I recently had a dream where I watched a version of TPM where Ric Olié was played by Nicolas Cage instead of Ralph Brown.
“The shield generator’s been hit! How’d it get hit? How’d it get hit how’dit get hit howditget hhiiiittt?!”
You probably don’t recognize me because of the red arm.
Episode 9 Rewrite, The Starlight Project (Released!) and ANH Technicolor Project (Released!)