Wednesday, August 11, 2010

The Weird Dreams

I've said it before and I'm sure I'll say it again. I have some weird dreams. I don't know why it happens, it just does. I've heard of people that take certain medications, such as anti-depressants or some other brain chemistry altering drugs, having strange dreams. And I've heard of pregnant women having bizarre dreams. But I'm not pregnant. And I'm not on any prescription medication of any kind. So the cause for the weirdness is beyond me.

I don't always remember my dreams. Sometimes I sleep through the night without my brain interrupting me. Having been a good psychology student in college, I am fully aware that we dream every time we go through that full sleep cycle. At least that's what they told me. Those quiet nights aren't quiet because I'm not dreaming. They're just quiet because I don't wake up on the edge of the dream, therefore it stays safely tucked inside my subconscious.

Every now and again, however, I'll have a stretch of nights where I remember dreams. And the dreams I remember are just abnormal. But I guess that's what makes a dream so much fun. While you're in the dream, the abnormal seems completely normal. If only I could get a handle on the whole lucid dreaming thing. That's where you realize you're in a dream, and then you are able to take control of the dream. There have been times when I've been dreaming and I've recognized that there's no way the world around me could be real. The problem for me is that I wake up. The images don't explode or break apart like in Inception, but the dream definitely dissolves into a hazy memory.

Last night's strangeness can be easily explained. I've been reading The Stand lately, so the fact that I was reading that book late into last night played heavily into how my dreams were influenced. Somehow I was a part of that world. I hadn't taken the place of any of the main characters, but I was accepted as part of the inner circle. It was helpful that I had read the book, so I had insights into the bad guys that the other good guys didn't have. And I knew about that Harold kid plotting behind Stu and Fran's backs, so we were able to nail him before he could attempt anything.

That dream must have occurred right on the edge of my waking up this morning. Because as I was rolling over to turn off my alarm, I was still internally rationalizing something I did or didn't do within the dream. Not sure what that action or inaction was, but it must have been a big one. The dream I had over the weekend is a little more disjointed. And with that one, it's a little more difficult to point out the influences. But I'm gonna save that one for another time. Sweet dreams, kids.


  1. I dream about books I read all the time. Harry Potter's the main culprit, though. I have one of those every couple of weeks. In them, half the time I'm Harry, and half the time I'm myself, but I'm in Hermione's place. I must be torn between being a hero and a know-it-all.

  2. I've done the Harry Potter dreams too. Only I think when I'm there I'm myself, tagging along with the main characters. They all look at me strange because I'm older and have an American accent.

  3. You're an, student...?