They're even strange when I'm sober.
Sunday, 18. January 2009, 02:20:19
I had a dream last night.
I dreamt I was back in high school--I have these a lot--and I was walking in to band rehearsal. It's always the last course before the end of the day, and every time I have dreams like this, I'm the last person to show up. I'm not necessarily late for class, I'm always just the last one there. Every time I need to walk through crowds of people and I'm always bumping into music stands, chairs, people's instruments and I'm always in the back of the room because I play trombone. I go to sit next to my friend Rhiannon. She's someone I was always really close with--for over ten years--until about six months ago. We had a falling out and we're not speaking to each other right now. Greg, the first-chair player was absent. I found this weird because he had never missed a single day of class. I took his seat and started fumbling through sheet music. The conductor tells us the first song we're going to play is, of course, the one piece that I can't find in my folder. I feel really low to the ground at this point and sort of isolated in my own little bubble of anxiety.
I never do get to the point of actually playing. Instead I find myself on a bus. I don't really know how to describe the bus in terms of a specific motif, but the windows were blacked out and the seats were aligned along the sides of the bus. Down the middle of the aisle was a black wall with flat-screen televisions mounted down the length of the wall. The colors I remember in the bus were a lot of black, red, purple, and a lot of ambient lights as well. To my right was Rhiannon, and to my left was the conductor, but to my immediate left sat a small girl--probably seven or eight years old. I had a quesadilla in my hand and I'm trying to eat it, but there are two small dogs running around the bus and trying to steal my quesadilla. Every time they try to jump up on my seat, I nudge them until they get distracted by something else, just enough to leave me alone for a while.
The little girl looks at me and says "Are you going to let anyone else have one of those?"
To which I replied "I'm going to take them home and raise them myself...and sell them."
"You're going to take them home for yourself and sell them?"
"That's what I said."
She then feels compelled to leave her seat and tell everyone on the bus about my business venture regarding Mexican cuisine. I look to my right where Rhiannon is sitting and all of these men whom I've dated in the past start coming up to Rhiannon and trying to force themselves upon her. With each one she laughs, pushes them away, and says "I have a husband."
I then wake up at four-o'clock in the afternoon. I slept for a total of fifteen hours.
I don't know what it is with my sleeping habits, or why I have such oddball dreams. They're even weirder when I sleep under the influence of some kind of drug. I don't really think my dreams mean anything. I think I'm just bonkers in the brain.
I dreamt I was back in high school--I have these a lot--and I was walking in to band rehearsal. It's always the last course before the end of the day, and every time I have dreams like this, I'm the last person to show up. I'm not necessarily late for class, I'm always just the last one there. Every time I need to walk through crowds of people and I'm always bumping into music stands, chairs, people's instruments and I'm always in the back of the room because I play trombone. I go to sit next to my friend Rhiannon. She's someone I was always really close with--for over ten years--until about six months ago. We had a falling out and we're not speaking to each other right now. Greg, the first-chair player was absent. I found this weird because he had never missed a single day of class. I took his seat and started fumbling through sheet music. The conductor tells us the first song we're going to play is, of course, the one piece that I can't find in my folder. I feel really low to the ground at this point and sort of isolated in my own little bubble of anxiety.
I never do get to the point of actually playing. Instead I find myself on a bus. I don't really know how to describe the bus in terms of a specific motif, but the windows were blacked out and the seats were aligned along the sides of the bus. Down the middle of the aisle was a black wall with flat-screen televisions mounted down the length of the wall. The colors I remember in the bus were a lot of black, red, purple, and a lot of ambient lights as well. To my right was Rhiannon, and to my left was the conductor, but to my immediate left sat a small girl--probably seven or eight years old. I had a quesadilla in my hand and I'm trying to eat it, but there are two small dogs running around the bus and trying to steal my quesadilla. Every time they try to jump up on my seat, I nudge them until they get distracted by something else, just enough to leave me alone for a while.
The little girl looks at me and says "Are you going to let anyone else have one of those?"
To which I replied "I'm going to take them home and raise them myself...and sell them."
"You're going to take them home for yourself and sell them?"
"That's what I said."
She then feels compelled to leave her seat and tell everyone on the bus about my business venture regarding Mexican cuisine. I look to my right where Rhiannon is sitting and all of these men whom I've dated in the past start coming up to Rhiannon and trying to force themselves upon her. With each one she laughs, pushes them away, and says "I have a husband."
I then wake up at four-o'clock in the afternoon. I slept for a total of fifteen hours.
I don't know what it is with my sleeping habits, or why I have such oddball dreams. They're even weirder when I sleep under the influence of some kind of drug. I don't really think my dreams mean anything. I think I'm just bonkers in the brain.
WIDGETIZE
fredwood # 19. January 2009, 05:07