Tuesday, May 04, 2010

Dreams aren't supposed to be so... actual!

This morning -- quite early -- my brain and body both decided to conspire against my consciousness.

Here's how it went down:

I woke up this morning at about 4:10AM, not with a jolt or start, but as calmly as one walks through a doorway.  "That's odd," I thought.  Is there a storm?  No.  Is there an immediate need for the bathroom? No.  Is there a car racing up and down the street? No.  Am I uncomfortable (too hot or cold)?  No.

Then why am I up so early?  I gradually piece together that I had been having a dream whose particulars are lost to the ether, save one: in the dream, there was a notepad.  And written on that dream-pad was a list of things in my life that should suggest other things, if I had the time to think about them.  One in particular was a clonk to the head, seeing that it relates to my regular life and times.  My subconscious had finally had enough of my evasion of thinking and had ambushed me at a location when it knew I wouldn't be busy: in my own bed in the middle of my night of sleep.

So there I was, forced to contemplate uncomfortable but obvious truths in the dark of the near-dawn.  I don't know if I can handle having my brain switch from metaphorical dreams (flying is freedom, teeth falling out is anxiety) to concrete dreams ("don't forget to take out the garbage, Andy.").  It seems too much of a truce-breaking move -- I was content to have bizarre dreams to distract me from real life, but if real life starts invading my dreams, I may need to engage in more daytime irrational behavior to compensate!

We'll see if I can make my subconscious self-conscious if I show up to school without any clothes on.  Then we'll know who's boss!

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