I read somewhere that keeping a dream journal means that you’ll be more likely to remember and, eventually, control your dreams. Lucid dreaming, in other words. While I haven’t experienced that yet, I have managed to write down hundreds of dreams, some unsettlingly simple, others boringly long. Most of the time, I write down the dreams as soon as I wake up, meaning that the text is often just as barely understandable as the dream. I’ve edited these selections to account for speech-to-text errors, but they’re otherwise as they appeared in my phone at 3 AM when I rambled them at the too-bright screen while barely conscious. Each paragraph is a single dream, or a single night’s worth of interconnected dreams.
At some look out in Hawaii, watching the ocean and a bunch of islands, when crashing a jet tears across the sky. Time passes and I forget about it, I never saw what happened to the plane. Then more loud noises as other jets crash. Two manage to land in the ocean on their bellies basically right next to each other, while another one floats around the nearby island upside down. It’s shaped sort of like a whale, like seven stories tall with glass sides like a cruise ship or something. I can see people at the windows trying to get out. I’m wondering what caused this and suddenly realize that it’s because a Quicken Loans program created a “silly mode” that went crazy and started crashing planes. Sort of an AI nightmare.
Dreamt about packing boxes for Walmart in a dank basement and woke up with a boner.
Another dream where I was at a wedding or just before a wedding and I guess we were partying? Fuzzy now, I’m trying to remember more than 12 hours ago. Weirdest thing was when I pushed on the screen of my laptop and there was a hollow space behind it. Managed to reach in and I pull out fistfuls of money.
In a dream, I’m brutally killing a man with the backside of a hammer, just hammering the back of his head. I guess he was a killer or something, always chasing me, but I was pretty certain I had to do it. I had been building up to it for a while. But then as I was just slamming those forks into his skull, he called for his son to call 911. This big kid like a linebacker came out and started dialing so I started hammering away at him too. He was much fleshier so I guess he took more hits, even going so far as me just clawing his ear off with a hammer so that he couldn’t use the phone very easily. If anything, it was even more brutal. It was terrible. Around this point, I became uncertain that what I was doing was right. Was this guy actually a murderer? Why would he have his son called 911 if he was the bad guy? What about when the cops come and see all the dead bodies or whatever? I had been pretty certain that he was going to kill me earlier in the dream and he had seemed fairly menacing, but now I was pretty confused. And then I woke up. What. The. Hell.
Such an intensely real dream about Doritos dust being on my fingers that I woke up and licked the finger.
Dreamt that I was in Paris staying at some hotel and I was biking across town on like a lowrider bike with a long front spoke and tiny, tiny wheels. It was hard to ride. Struggling over curbs and barriers, I think I was even on train tracks for a while. Rode by some place that had ferries going across a small lagoon towards the Eiffel tower in the distance. Eventually the bike disintegrated – it was made of like sticks, oddly. So I walked. Told myself I wouldn’t go too far since now I had to walk back to the hotel which was very far away. Went down an alley where I lost my shirt somehow. Decided to just take a few pictures then turn back. Everything was red like a red dust storm was blowing through. A priest wandered by and asked me to bless some bauble he had. It smelled good, maybe a censure? He asked other tourists to bless it too. Tried to get a picture of some castle, gorgeous with huge towers, kind of crumbling, like something out of Game of Thrones. The Eiffel tower was pretty far away so I decided not to go there. It also appeared to be crumbling and broken or maybe that was another tower. Went into a mall which was closing looking for shoes because now I was shoeless. Nothing was open, no luck. A super fat American family had convinced one travel agent in the mall to stay open for them. Left the mall and found my way to that water plaza again. I was on a hill and all the distant houses and apartments looked like a painting of medieval Paris in winter, all grey and smoky. I found a map that pointed out a shoe shop and subway station. It was winter and snowing so I figured I should do something about my shoelessness. Had been summer at the start of the dream. A beautiful girl in a blue dress exited the subway station right next to me and slipped. She pulled up her dress to reveal like full body spanx, this tight, tan jumpsuit that was now soaked in blood on her side. I offered to go get help. I remember I could kind of see her boob. Then I woke up.
(Image credit: David Avend)