Friday, February 18, 2011

I actually remembered a dream!

It happened the day of class, but I decided to wait to see if I dream anything else. And well, I don't remember any of my dreams aside from the one I just mentioned, so yeah.

I don't exactly remember how it started, but I remember there a feeling of urgency and something getting me or something like that (which is almost every dream I have).

The parts that I do remember are pretty odd. Me, my family (or maybe a new imaginary family, I can't remember faces) and a bunch of other families that I either know somehow or we're all just in this adventure together for some reason get together for this vacation. And there's this feeling of urgency again, like as if me and the other families MUST do this (my POV also shifts a lot; sometimes I'm a dad for two young girls). So we all hurry and get our belongings packed and move on to this guy.

This guy, my mind registers him as either the director or the artistic creator of the animated movie Robots and another movie that made me spasm with joy. He has glasses, a receding hair line, his shnozz is pretty noticeable--basically, a bookish man who kinda looks like Ben Kingsley (not his Ghandi role, but the one from Schindler's List), but not really. The vacation he offers us as we all gather in his little study room (like a Harvard literature professor's dusty study but somehow more spacious in a weird space defying way) offers vacation via our dreams.

He says simply that our vacation is our dreams--we'll spend about a week and a half in another world together which will last just a few seconds (in movie terms, Inception-like limbo *gags*). We gain the knowledge at some point that if we remember that we're dreaming while we're dreaming, the vacation is over and we wake up. Anyway, so we all go into our dream and there are flowers and I think bookshelves that don't have anything in them somewhere. Very bright, white and yellow colors. My POV switches in the dream. I become either some young man or maybe my dad or the Dad of the two daughters I mentioned earlier but I can't remember. I realize it's a dream and I start panicking for some reason. Then I go to me, actual physical me, and tell me that it's all a dream. Then I reply to...myself, I guess, that I know that it's all a dream and that I chose to stay in the dream. Then I continue to frolic in flowerbeds.

That's all I remember. I have an itch to scratch--I want to tell all the wacky strange, sexual, super violent, romantic and adventurous dreams I've had. They're all so weird. I guess another day.

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