More About Dreaming

Once Dreaming
Image by Ekler via Flickr

Lately, I’ve been having strange dreams, which may or may not be responsible for my exhaustion level in the morning.

The other night I dreamed I was part of some 17th or 18th century militia group.  We sailed (those ships were awesome, don’t you think?) to some bay or cove, disembarked, lined up for inspection or roll call or whatever, and then began a series of … well, games, for lack of a better term.  We had musket rifles, flint locks I guess, and those funny white pants and sissy shoes, but not the snazzy jackets.  Instead we had those great, almost pirate-type shirts, and the three-cornered hats.  Ah, those were the days.

I have no frickin’ idea what that was all about, if anything.

Before that, I had a dream that involved a loooooong plank, like a piece of dimensional lumber, but it spanned a ravine, or crevasse of some kind.  On the other side was a shop, and a lady there who seemed friendly.  I can’t remember many of the details.  Somehow, that dream evolved into something about a tire on my car.  That tire, however, was shaped like an elongated gallon milk jug, sans handle, and fitted into the rim, a conical sort of affair at the bottom of said elongated jug.  The air filler nozzle thing (anyone know what that’s called??) sat at the top of the jug, on the corner, and if I remember correctly (don’t bank on that), there were four such.  I remember part of the dream involving squeezing that weird tire (don’t ask me how a car’s supposed to roll on that) and hearing it gasp and wheeze as I mashed the air out of it.  A problem with my tire.  Not the least of which, I would say, is the shape.

But dreams are weird, aren’t they?

Anyway, I’ve been waking up more exhausted than normal.  Like I haven’t really slept.  I can’t explain it.  I’ve gone to bed as always, stayed in bed for long periods, but wake up feeling unrested and tired.  I go through my day relying on coffee and food to keep me awake until I can accomplish what I need to (my job hunt takes about 15 minutes these days — ugh) and can go to bed again.  Bizarre.

My wife has fantastic, comforting dreams of guardian angels and messages of hope.  I dream about little girls and concentration camp-like train trips in cattle cars which turn out to be dreams, except the person dreaming the dream is moments away from death in a bus accident.  (I wrote a short story on that called “Field Trip” if you’re interested.)  I dream about staircases that lead to a heavy, riveted metal door marked “Do Not Enter”.  (Another story.)  I dream about raging oceans tearing wooden vessels to scraps and splinters and flashing lightning and shattering thunder.  I dream about dogs vomiting bones that vets, doctors and zoologists can’t identify.

I dream of dust-colored figures with almond-shaped, black wet eyes, who are wrapped in rotting gauze, and come out of mist-cloaked beach heads with knobby, arthritic claws, reaching for the warmth of a bonfire.  I have no idea who the bonfire belongs to, but there are three of those dessicated brownish-gray wraiths drifting in their tattered, cobweb-hoods out of the fog.

I have no idea what’s going on, but I’ve got some good story ideas in there.

I don’t know where my dreams are coming from, what’s prompting them or where they’ll lead.  I just wish I could capture them — even if they’re just snippets — on film.  I’d make a big splash on YouTube, I can tell you.  And these aren’t the vague, black-and-white images of most dreams, either.  These are vivid, Technicolor dreams.  I can remember the revolutionary militia dream’s colors — the gravel pathway winding over the grass, which is that bright green of early autumn; I can see the dark pitch-sealed bulkheads of the ship, and its rich mahogany dressings, gleaming brass fixtures, and ivory canvas sails snapping and fluttering in the stiff ocean breeze.  I can feel the walnut gun stock, smell the powder of the wadding, the oil-and-metal smell, like in a mechanic’s shop or an auto repair garage, faint on the gun’s barrel and mechanism.  Very true, very real, very tactile.  And yet, a dream.

What about you?  What are your dreams like?  Have they changed that you’ve noticed?  Have they become different as you’ve gotten older, wiser, more cynical (if that’s true)?  Have a favorite dream?



9 thoughts on “More About Dreaming

  1. I don’t have as many nightmares, and the ones I do have don’t scare me like they used to. The subject matter is still just as scary, I just don’t react the same way. Looking back, it’s possible the change correlates to my refusal to watch gory movies.

    I don’t watch them either. I like scary movies, but gore isn’t scary, it’s gory. And I never liked them. Slasher movies, except for Alien, just don’t do it for me. However, I still have nightmares. Like you, I don’t react to them the same as I did before, and only the ones involving the kids really frighten me.

  2. Are you pregnant? Because I’ve been having crazy ass preggers dreams as of late. The one last night was a doozy. I normally don’t dream anything worth remembering unless I’m pregnant. Then it’s a damn roller coaster ride and all I can do is hang on for dear life.

    I need pancakes.

    I don’t know. Next time I go to the store I’ll get a test and pee on the stick. 😉 My dreams, however strange, are becoming fodder for stories, so it’s not all bad.

  3. It’s as if my dreams have been shut off since I’ve become pregnant. I’m sleeping like a log. Maybe you’re having sympathetic pregnancy dreams for me… ha!


    Ask KnytStalker to send hers your way! 🙂

  4. I have this reoccuring dream where I am constantly reading a webpage about someones dreams weird huh Zman sends

    Interesting … very interesting. The Internet is a strange place.

  5. Dreaming is mentally exhausting.

    It certainly can be. I’ve read about authors who use hypnogogic states to stimulate creativity. I haven’t been able to do that yet, but I have some cool things happen in that state. If I ever master it, the literary would should watch out.

  6. In my favorite dream, I was chased by a hideous monster. Later on, I grew tired of running so I decided to turn around and start hitting the monster with a baton.

    Wow! How cool! That’s pretty much lucid dreaming, right? Something I’ve never experienced.

  7. You know, sometimes, I believe some dreams we have may have something to do with our past lives. You may or may not believe about the past life thing but it’s fun to know who we were in our past life, right? I like toying with the idea lol.

    Nope, not a proponent of reincarnation. Who the hell wants to have to do this more than once? 😉

    Maybe you’ve been dreaming wars because it might have happened in some point of your past life as it seems very real. Like it was just a sneak peek and then you get transported somewhere, in another time with weird stuff like talking flowers or something lol. If you’re dreaming about concentration camp-like trains then maybe you were one of the Jews, victims of the Holocaust. That is creepy but I know you want to see more. Then there’s the media, you must have been thinking a lot before going to sleep so it enters your dream world.

    I pretty much stay out of the mainstream media. I get my news in summary from my wife, who will let me know if something important happens. Other than that, I have spates where my brain pukes these things. Last several nights, nothing. It’s the vivid nature of them that was strange.

    I don’t really remember my dreams most of the time. I forget about them a few hours later. Most of my dreams are pretty weird, with some struggles then some laughter. Can’t forget the series of dreams I had back then; Like a space shuttle falling down and exploding before it even exits the atmosphere and others. Some of them actually happened, including the space shuttle thing I mentioned.

    Much Love,

    The space shuttle dream is eerie. Thank you so much for stopping by and leaving a comment! I appreciate it!

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