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Dream Log

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Drill King:
I had a dream me and Darryl went to some shoddy shop in England to get our bellybuttons pierced, then later on I beat him in an arm wrestle.

Obviously I think I am more of a man than Darryl.

(Man this is the first non-crazy symbolic dream I have had in ages, come on subconscious I wanted to write one down)

orgasmtechnician:
I haven't had any good dreams in a while. But one I had a few years ago for weeks straight (I can't believe I still remember it) was kinda strange. Because it was so long ago, I only remember parts of it.

For whatever reason, the world is a cartoon. And for whatever reason, Scooby and the gang are in the Beatles Yellow Submarine (think the Beatles film, 'Yellow Submarine'. THAT kind of yellow submarine). But then, it crashes onto the bottom of the ocean. Everything shakes, then either I wake up, or is starts again.

David_Dovey:

--- Quote from: öde on 04 Feb 2009, 16:18 ---I'm pretty sure I've been getting sleep paralysis.

--- End quote ---

That is the invisible Reptoids that run the world sitting on your chest

ZJGent:
I had one of the worst nightmares last night - one of those that successfully combine powerlessness, blank terror and dread, explicit horror, and overwhelming guilt. These feelings were multiplied by every detail of the dream following me vividly into my waking life and still being perfectly captured in my woken mind. That very rarely happens to me. The dream went like this:

I was sitting at a small metal table outside a restaurant or café, inside a larger building or covered area, such as a shopping precinct or artisan quarter. I had finished the coffee on the table, and to my right was an extremely tall glass window, with views over a river to the rest of the city, a bridge some way to the left. The longer I waited at the table, the greater my sense of anxiety grew, until it was no longer anxiety but terror. A person I knew sat at another of the metal tables, but it was not the person I was waiting for. Still my feelings of dread and mindless terror burgeoned and blossomed, until I was sat on the spike of worry, my mind screaming. It was then that the crowds of the precinct, in ones and twos at first, turned gradually, pointing and gasping at a sight across the river. I scrambled to the glass window to see: on top of a tall and old-fashioned building, a man walked left and right, in slow and methodic rotation - the person who was meant to have met me.

Now I was sure of what I was afraid of. This man was going to die. I pushed through the crowds, through a door in the vast glass window, towards the bridge. The closer I came to the bridge, the thicker the crowds became, and as I came onto the bridge itself, the old building with man atop it in plain sight, the harder my reaching him became. Soon I was straining and fighting against a wall of humanity stronger than I was, and it was then that the man toppled from the building's roof and hurtled to the ground. On impact, two things happened which nearly killed me with how frightening I was of them: previously a daylit scene, all then became night and shadowy darkness. Second, as that sickening crunch of bone upon masonry reached me, every single one of the people in front, behind, and around me disappeared. As far as I knew, the city was empty, except for what lay before me. Blood weeped and spat from wrenched and shattered limbs, a broken and cracked visage turning one red eye up at me, the broken hand of the visible arm seeming to point at me. The purest fear of this moment seemed to wrench me from time itself, and in one moment I was back at the shopping precinct, bright daylight hurting my eyes. Except... what had happened had still happened, and a girl with red hair was spitting hatred at me:

"He was right to. He was right to. You should have, too. You should. She would have. You should, too."

I tried to say something that made sense to her, but I could only trip blather and furtively scattered sentences from my lips. The sounds I made were incomprehensible. The guilt was soul-ravaging - I felt torn from myself. Time was still broken, for now my sense of continuum again fractured away from itself... scenes slid by, and I am sure in my dream I was asleep. I then woke up atop a building... the same, perhaps? I stood on the very lip of empty space, and in distorted, horrific slowed motion I fell forward, only to have my hand caught fast behind me. I turned to see a girl I knew who had died. Her hair was red too. Only as soon as I noticed the fact, her face changed and she became that other one, and in one moment my hand was ripped away and I fell and fell and fell and fell



... and that's when I woke up with my mind feeling battered with fear, exhausted despite my ten hours' sleep.

redglasscurls:
I usually hate reading other people's dreams, BUT- last night, I had a dream with forum people staging a cameo in it. Andy and Jimmy were on my couch laughing at mythbusters and taking pictures of eachother/me with camera phones.
It was only a minor spot in a much more complicated dream, but it stuck out when I woke up because I very rarely have dreams about recognizable people.

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