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      CommentAuthorLuke
    • CommentTimeJan 19th 2012
     (10440.41)
    @budgie You know better than to turn down any creations of your own brain - even when it is a psychic dialysis machine accidentally hooked up to feedback. And if you could be aware of both reality and dreams, who cares which is which as long as you have the writing dream of more hours in the day.

    @Fauxhammer So your subconscious believes you're invincible and will triumph even when the worst possible thing happens, and you're painting that as a bad thing? No wonder it fantasizes about doing without the higher functions for a bit.

    @JP Carpenter Never mind the horror, when a subconscious provides something with clear imagery and a coherent plot like that I get tin-foil hat suspicious. Who's implanting these actual stories? Where's the bit about being terrified because you can't read the spider-sandwich?

    @Beamish Nice work. You don't even need lucid dreaming because it's already doing exactly what you'd want.

    @oldhat I'd say you get the geek-girl prize for that dream, except the prize IS having that dream, so it's already neatly tied up. (Which may now become part of future dreams if you're into that scene.)

    My own subconscious is a sneaky agenda-having bastard, which is a pretty good trick for something which can't read or spell. In college I'd been swearing I'd start getting up in the AM to become a Better Person. I set the alarm and swore by every relevant force that I'd get up when it beeped. That night was a non-stop series of bomb disposal dreams - all panicked and hurried and momentary starts of waking up (to make me extra tired) - so that when the alarm went off, all my stressed and sleep-deprived was a bunch of red LEDs connected to wires and an alarmed screaming. I think I turned off the alarm, reset the time AND ripped it out of the wall simultaneously. Then my subconscious took the rest of the day off, along with the rest of my brain.

    Cunning bugger.
    •  
      CommentAuthorAmpersand
    • CommentTimeJan 20th 2012
     (10440.42)
    I used to have a recurring dream that started when I was about 6 or 7 years old. I'm not entirely sure how long it lasted (maybe until I was 12 or so), but I know that it showed up about 2 years ago for the first time since I was a kid. It isn't complex - just weird.

    I am running, and for some reason, I can't stop running. The ground is like a bean bag throwing board - full of holes. Somehow, there are monsters living under these holes, and they are trying to get me, but they can't get out of the holes. Even though I can easily see them, the holes keep closing and reopening in random places, and I eventually fall into one. At this point, I have a brief moment of panic, and then I reappear in mid-run back on top of the board. I am concerned as to how many lives I have left, like I am trapped in a video game or something. There is no sky, no other people, and no landscape - just the board.
    • CommentAuthor256
    • CommentTimeJan 21st 2012
     (10440.43)
    @& - On the plus side, if you ever need to design a horrendous arcade game, you're basically set.
  1.  (10440.44)
    Fun one last night. I dreamt that Iggy Pop was giving up music to become a TV ghost hunter. I tuned in to "Iggy Pop's Paranormality" with great interest only to discover it was a bunch of recycled clips from other ghost hunting shows with Iggy merely providing linking dialogue while sitting in a moodily lit morgue. Very disappointed Iggy!
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      CommentAuthorcurb
    • CommentTimeJan 22nd 2012
     (10440.45)
    Given that he's been doing car insurance ads over here recently, are you SURE it was a dream?
  2.  (10440.46)
    One reoccurring dream I has was when I was a kid, between 9-13 years old.

    I was lost in a subway platform (I had never actually been in a subway, so it was made up of subway stations from TV), and I was wandering around asking for help. I spotted a police officer, and being the young naive kid that I was, I asked him for help. The policeman looked down at me, and instead of talking, he opened his mouth impossibly wide, and this loud, unearthly siren-like sound emanated from his gaping maw. I would back away, terrified, only to find everyone on the subway platform stopping where they stood, only to turn and look at me, all with the same wide-open mouths, all making that sound, and it became louder, deafening until I would awake.

    I would awake, lying in my bedroom next to the window, where my German Shepard lay underneath my open window, howling into the night. Then I would throw something at him and tell him to shut up. No joke, this happened time after time, and each time in the dream I would forget that it was my dog the whole time.
  3.  (10440.47)
    @government spy: That is really creepy.
  4.  (10440.48)
    Long-time reader, first-time commenter. Not sure if I'll get this in before the thread closes, but it's worth a shot.

    I mostly have mundane dreams, which I can remember in detail but in which little of note happens. I have, however, had seven extraordinarily vivid nightmares, each of which stuck with me, some for over two decades now.

    The two weirdest of these:

    The floating hotel dream involved going to a room at night -- the number was 486 -- in an ornately-appointed hotel with red carpeting. I had an important appointment there, but when I knocked, the door opened to reveal the room empty and I abruptly found myself floating up near the ceiling, as if my body had become a balloon. This was a floating dream, not a flying one: I had no control over where I drifted, and the dream ended as I floated out over a staircase and back out into the lobby, where I could see other guests in the air, their bodies grotesquely distended and their faces horrified.

    The Danny DeVito body salesman dream (same night) began in front of a strip mall on a sunny day. I walked in to a comic book shop in which one of the clerks turned out to be Danny DeVito. He nodded at me knowingly and took me back to look at the "special stock," leading me into a room full of moth-eaten suits on big metal racks. In the deepest recesses of this room was a circular rack which had human bodies on it, hanging from meathooks. These were not corpses, nor did they show any sign of violence. They were completely mundane objects, just like the suits, and in-dream I had the sense of a workaday transaction, as if I was planning on buying one of these bodies to wear in the same way as I would buy any other garment.