Yep, that's the title of a book. It's also a good way to define my dreams. It has occured to me before, that people like Stephan King and M. Night Shyamalan probably have dreams like I do, and have figured out a way to make a hefty living off it. I can tell you one thing; if what happens in my dreams actually happened in real life, and I wrote about them each time, this little old blog would be a lot more interesting.
Last night I had one of those that comes in more than one part. You know the kind - you have a dream then you wake up shaking and glad it was just a dream. Then you go back to sleep and here comes part 2! Sometimes, you repeat the process and upon falling back asleep, part 3 is played out. UGH! I hate those dreams. Last night was a three-parter.
Minus all the blockbuster-movie-of-the-year-gory-details, I had somehow enraged my brother (who was in prison for doing something really really bad) and he had vowed to take me out, when he was released. And I don't mean take me out to lunch.
In the dream I was single and had two small sons (I know, dreams are weird) and was living with a big family in their basement apartment. They knew about my brother's threat, and they promised to help me "disappear" before his release date. For some reason I can't explain, the police could not be involved so they were unable to protect me. So then, my brother's release date was approaching and I was getting myself and my boys ready to go into hiding, when there came a knock on the door. You guessed it, Mr. Early Release showed up a week in advance.
That was part one. I woke up and thought "my brother would never DO that, what a STUPID dream!" As I was drifting back to sleep I wondered why I have dreams like that. I had not been thinking about my brother, prison, getting picked off, or living in someone's basement apartment - so none of the details were "leftovers" from the days thoughts. Sometimes you have dreams and you can immediately pick out why you had such a dream, when some of those leftover daily thoughts show up in your dreams. This one was completely out of left field.
So I fell back to sleep and part two began. Again, minus the gory details (and they were indeed) the second part of the dream begins with a home invasion scenario where Brother Convict goes ballistic and removes all obstacles looking for me. Scene after scene I'm either running, or hiding, or crying or praying and he's right on my heels. Suffice it to say, not everyone trying to help me makes it through this scene. Then I wake up again. UGH! I really really hate these kinds of dreams, because now I'm grieving for people who a.) don't even exist, b.) aren't even really dead! and c.) were such really kind and loving people and didn't deserve that!! None of that matters though, because in my dreams all of the emotions you'd feel were it actually happening are the emotions I wake up with. Out of breath, crying or laughing (there was no laughing in this one, I assure you) or frozen with fear, I wake up feeling like that and sort of have to talk myself down and remind myself that it was just a dream.
So, I intentionally try to think about things that have nothing to do with what I just watched in DreamLand DVD mode. The last thing I remember thinking about before I fell asleep again, was cranberry muffins. I'll be baking today for Thanksgiving so I can only assume thats where this thought came from. Sure enough though, as I fell back asleep the dream continued and there were no muffins involved at all, unfortunately. It was me still running and hiding and finally snapping and going a little Rambo myself, on my brother. Eventually the police did become involved and by the time the dream was over and he was no longer capable of hurting anyone, I was filthy, my hands and feet covered in deep gashes and bruises, my clothes torn and my face streaked with tears. I was so scary looking the police were even afraid of me, until I just sort of collapsed with sobs wracking my body. End of dream.
UGH! I woke up at that point and it was just beginning to get light outside. Too early to get up yet, and too exhausted from running all night long from a lunatic brother who had monumental revenge issues, I just fell asleep again. You guessed it, short clips of "alternate director's cut endings" played themselves out. Nothing really scary, but at one point I was hiding in the trunk of someone's car, with my two boys.
Often I've wished that I could write out all the details of dreams like this and turn it into a book or a movie. Of course I'd have to cast the picture myself, since I'm the only one who knows what these people look like, act like and sound like. I'd also have to direct it in a way that only suggests what happens (in the really scary scenes) rather than allow the actual event to unfold, because sometimes they're just too gross and creepy. No one needs to see that. In any event, I can't do that, so I just blog about them sometimes. Someone once suggested I keep a finely detailed journal of all my dreams like this, but I've never done that either. I suppose I could, since I remember them all so well, but I've just never got around to doing something like that. I think it's because I'm not really sure what purpose it would serve, except to document that I have a very twisted imagination.
So, with all that said let me just also say that I'm QUITE thankful today that my dreams aren't things that happen to me in real life. Oh, and let me also say I'm really tired today. Running through the city all night long trying to get away from a crazy brother, certainly isn't something I'm in training for.