Friday, October 24, 2008

(Halloweeen?) Dreams

I had two very different nights of dreaming last night and the night before.


Wednesday night/Thursday morning, I had two very nightmarish dreams. First, I dreamt that I had to retrieve some item or other from the storage space in my house, a room which to which we have always referred as "the unfinished room," simply because that is exactly what it is. Anyway, as I was getting ready to close the door, I noticed a large, horrific bug of some kind scuttling across the plywood flooring. The thing was huge; almost rat-sized and colored unlike anything found in nature in obnoxious shades of red, green, blue and yellow. I thought to myself "That's too horrible to live" and promptly stomped on the hideous thing. But when I raised my foot, I found that I hadn't done it any damage at all. Instead, the little beastie turned about, puffed up and starting squirting something akin to acidic green slime at me. I raised my hands to protect my face and quickly slammed the door shut. Curiously, I felt no pain, but knew instinctively that I had been covered in acid. In the absurd logic of a dream, I next found myself in the shower, watching with detachment as bits of clothing, blood and flesh slid down the tub drain.
After awakening, happy to find myself whole and entimologically unmolested, I checked the time on my alarm clock (4:09 AM), quickly recorded the dream in the black side of my reversible dream diary, rolled over and almost instantly fell back to sleep, assuming that the dream was the result of seasonal influences.
Which is when I had my second nightmare of the morning. A very dear friend's birthday is on Halloween. I bought him a truly hilarious and spot-on present while in Chicago on business and plan to see him sometime next weekend to celebrate. In this dream, he had arrived at my house in preparation for us to go out. I wasn't quite ready to go, so when a knock came on the door, I asked him to get it. He opened the door and before anyone could say anything, a madman burst in and started hacking at my friend with a cleaver. I awoke screaming my friend's name and crying. Now the clock read: 6:47 and my hand trembled as I made another entry into the black side of the book, despite knowing the dream was the result of seasonal (and personal) influences.
Less than immediately, I fell back into a dreamless state until the alarm went off. I went about my day trying to shake both dreams' disturbing qualities. I am sure that both scenarios (or variations thereof) will appear in a future play, screenplay, novel or short-story.
Last night proved to be a very different and surprisingly inspirational night of dreaming. I found myself dragooned into appearing as a costumed-character at an event celibrating the success of a new animated children's show on a prominent kid's cable network. While happy for the extra cash the gig provided, I was annoyed at having to wear a hot and uncomfortable character costume (I've worn my share - they're no fun). But the kids' enthusiasm upon seeing their favorite characters "in the flesh" was almost palpable. Since I plan on actually using the characters in this dream to develop an actual animated children's program, I won't go into detail here, but I will tell you that I am often amazed by the detail one's subconscious can display when inspired. The dream even provided clever character names along with the hilarious visuals. Friends both old, new and yet to be appeared in the dream as well, portraying the other characters from the show.
Thoughts? Am I insane? Do I watch too many movies or drink too much Diet Cherry-Vanilla Dr. Pepper? Or am I just a weirdo who has dreams that match the rest of my personality? I know it's a dark and scary place up here, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Your thoughts and comments are always welcomed.
As always, more of this anon.
Prospero

1 comment:

Woodentoe said...

Colorful dreams. I've had my share of bizarre/violent dreams. They run the gamu from ultra-realistic to fantastic to almost video game like in nature. I really should put a book next to the bed and one of those light up pens to write them down, but I can never force myself to wake up enough to write them down. Plus, as someone who has had nightmares regularly since childhood, I almost don't think about them anymore and only occsionally am I really freaked out.