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Lately, my problem isn't thoughts keeping me up, it's what goes on when I'm asleep.

I'm having very bizarre dreams and waking up under strange circumstances.

For example, I sleep with four thin pillows. One is a down pillow, two are poly-fil, and then there's a hard pillow for support. I woke up with the empty pillowcase of the third pillow in my hand and the hard pillow upside down. Odd.

I'm going to recount some of my most vivid dreams. Some were disturbing, some were humourous, and some make me wistful for a time and place which may not exist.

When I was very young, I had a recurring nightmare about being pursued by a great gelatinous mass. I believe I was five or so, and in my dream I was in a packing yard, with crates piled high on either side. Sometimes, in flashing glimpses through the spaces between stacks of crates, I could see other people running from the huge oozing mass, and these people had marathon numbers attached to their chests. And all of us were running with the adrenaline-pumped speed of the panicked, and the shadow was looming, and there, the ooze obliterated the sun from the cloudless sky, and its cold shadow fell over me, and ahead, a dead end! There was no further to go as I backed up against the crates and watched the height of this mass climb higher and higher, pitching itself into a vast and undulating tidal wave, and then-- I'd wake up.

Another recurring dream of mine takes a much less frightening note, and builds progressively over the years. Indeed, I've been having the same dream now and again for 8 years or so, or should I say parts of it, as each time I pick up where I left off. In the dream there is an apartment, urban and insulated in the style of solid old buildings, and it is likely in New York, possibly Brooklyn. I could draw a floor plan, so clear is it in my mind, the somewhat spotted carpet, the second and third-hand furniture, the kitchen behind a counter with its metal sink and antiquated stove. The cabinets and floors are ghosts of the 1970's, and there is a glass on a blue drying rack in the sink, with a knobbly and sopping dishrag that was once white. Over the sink there is a trap-door window, and through it there is a view of the brick wall of the apartment next door. Have I told you all of this? Sometimes, if I'm feeling frivolous, I'll imagine a window-box there, with carrots and radishes and parsley (I always felt bad for parsley), but wouldn't that window-box collect the runoff from the cooling unit belonging to the apartment above mine? If I was flexible enough to bend myself over the sink and poke my head through that little window, I might see clothes-lines criss-crossing the alley between my apartment building and the next. Are such contraptions still in use? The bedroom would likely be lacking shelf space, but the floor would be covered in neat stacks of books and papers as I am known to make, and the walls would most likely be papered by posters and the like, held up by rolls and rolls of Scotch tape. There are shoes spilling out of the closet; I can see them. One Converse high-top on its side and a pair of black snow boots, one standing and one fallen over. The bed is unmade and the blinds are closed, though a thin strip of light tears a gash across the room in the cold mid-morning sun, peeking through the space left by a bent Venetian blind. Yes, the details are so clear: the sweatshirt flung over the back of the sofa and the clutter around the bed and the desk, the coffee mugs full of pens and markers and pencils and paintbrushes and feathers and plastic bits, the magazines open on the coffee table with its rings from coasterless drinks, the earthenware vase with sticks of pussywillow sitting to the side of the TV table and the strange lamp which likely came from my mother on an end table by the couch. The shower curtain is directly from Ikea, and the knobs on the shower squeak. How old am I? Where am I in my life? Honestly, I don't know.

Codeine is an effective cough medication, but it is also very good at giving me frightful nightmares, including one where I was forced into prostitution along with my then best friend (the two of us are now estranged) who, in my nightmare, was put into an outfit with vices around the breasts to make them appear larger. Yes, metal camps which would be tightened to give the appearance of size.

She appeared in a recent dream, actually. The two of us haven't spoken in years after a fight which still leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I still hate the b***h, to this day. She goes to a city high school on The Hill, while I go to school at The Beach. In my dream, I was on the campus of her school to take a test of some sort (SAT, college entrance, something) and I ran into her as she was leaving school and I was walking in. She looked at me and recognized me and said, "EW, it's THAT." and I said, "Holy s**t a talking chimpanzee." and she left in a huff while her younger brother Ryan, with whom I ever got along, walked into the main school entrance to go get something from his locker. "I'm sorry about her," he said, and I said, "I'm not," and so we walked across the football field where they were painting the trimmings red rather than the black they should be, and Ryan said that another school was taking over the field due to population, and I said that made sense, since I used to go to that school and it had 4500 students when I was there. Then, an enormous robin the size of a hawk swooped down with a female sparrow in its beak, clutched by the throat. It landed in the fork of an olive tree and then just past it there was a flying rabbit hovering over a hillock of iceplant. The midsection tapered off into the shape of a dolphin tail, but the tail was as furry as the rest of the rabbit, and it was using its exceptionally long ears to fly. "Oh, that's EXACTLY what I was looking for," Ryan said, going over to stand near the rabbit at the edge of the iceplant. "Look, antlers," I answered, pointing to a pair of antlers sticking up out of the iceplant. "It must be a Jackalope." and sure enough, it was. So, I left Ryan with the rabbits and went into one of the school buildings where there was some sort of sale going on. There were tote bags and flip flops and bracelets and headbands being sold, al having been donated by businesses and things in order to be sold as a fundraiser for the school. There were some students trying to control the crowd (most likely ASB), but it was absolute chaos in there, and one of the girls who was trying to help out was standing on a chair saying, "YOU GUYS! IF YOU'RE GOING TO BUY ONE OF THE McDONALD'S TOTE BAGS, MAKE SURE YOU TELL THE CASHIER WHETHER IT IS NAVY BLUE OR BLACK!" So I pressed myself up against a wall, trying to avoid the madding crowd, and the walls were white plaster, with low and tall windows which created little shelves out of the wall. There was a fireplace and a stairwell, and on the mantel of the fireplace were three plastic bowls, two orange and one hot pink, and one had valentines M&M's in it, and one had metallic hair ties, and one had multicoloured paperclips. In the rush of people, the dishes got spilled, and then two other girls and I were sorting the paperclips into one bowl, the hair ties into another, and throwing away the M&M's when Winnie the Pooh walked in and took a jar from the mantel and started eating honey from it. Somebody told him not to eat so much and he asked why not and they said "Because if you eat too much you'll get a stomachache and then you'll be sad." and then my mother walked in and said that if Winnie the Pooh ever told her he was sad, she'd likely cry, and at that point I decided I ought to get away from all this craziness, and so I crossed the room to the stairwell and went downstairs where this girl from my school was talking to a circle of people I didn't know, and a guy was saying to her, "Well, yeah, you try not to call girls pickles or Michigan State if you can help it," and she said, "There really aren't many other schools near Michigan State, but there is a shoe store. They had boots for $17.95. That place was snazzy." And at that point, I woke up.

The other night I had a dream where I was living in a video game which took place in a fancy hotel. The lobby had green marble flooring and counters, and the entire front of the lobby was an enormous window, floor to ceiling. There was a huge crystal chandelier with a brass chain and two staircases with wide, round steps, one on either side of the concierge. The stairs were carpeted in red with a gold diamond pattern and led to a pair of elevator bays with huge potted plants, and a little walkway above and behind the concierge which connected the elevator bays. I had three party members and a gun with five settings: Handgun, machine gun, rocket launcher, and two more which were not used throughout the dream, but were likely other typical video game weapons. In my dream, my party and I were stepping out of the shining brass doors of one of the elevators when a horde of enemies (who wore suits somewhat like that of Samus Aran in Metroid) came out of one of the staff doors in the lobby and stood in four rows, opening fire. My party and I were taking damage, and I used a jump combo to grab onto the chain of the chandelier, and then swung back and forth using the machine gun setting on my weapon to deplete their numbers. Just as there were only a few enemies left, I ran out of ammunition, so I left the last few to my party and went back to the elevators to see if I could find any ammo or a save point on one of the other floors. I went up to the restaurant floor and there was this large empty space before the actual restaurant, which was off to the left behind some closed doors. The empty space was a ballroom/banquet hall, and there was a small temporary partition up against a wall which partially concealed a food cart from view. I started across the floor, heading for the food cart, when two schoolgirls in red uniforms with long purple hair jumped out and opened fire with handguns. The only weapon I had left was the rocket launcher, which only allowed you five rockets. I shot two and ducked back into the elevator to avoid the explosion, but didn't manage to get out of the elevator again in time to pick up their handguns before they blinked out. So, I crossed to the food cart, thinking that maybe if I bought an apple or something, it would convert to HP for me or my party members. There was an old lady in a chef's hat and a canvas apron standing behind the food cart, and as she spoke, her text appeared in white system font across the bottom of my field of vision. She said something like, "I'll fill you right up," and took my gun, and filled it with hot potato soup. I then realized that she was an enemy and fled, taking my gun with me. I went back and collected my party members, and we went to the basement which was the only other floor open to us at that point. In the basement there was a long hallway, and there were a few doors and some pipes and valves and the sound of the laundry. One of my party members said, "Okay, I'll open the door, and you guys get ready to shoot if there are any enemies behind it." So he pushed the door open and I shot potato soup at whoever was behind the door, who immediately closed it again. Taking stock, we rushed the door again and there was an overweight blond boy with glasses in a red gown like those worn for graduation, mopping soup off of his face. Turns out, there was a choir group practicing in the basement where a temporary stage had been set up, until they performed that night in the ballroom space upstairs. So, I went around trying to offer people potato soup in order to empty it from my cartridges, and about then I woke up.

Terribly detailed.

Wall of text make eyes go bleed. burning_eyes

LOL ;D

I'm just picking on you. I already read it before I even posted.

last night I dreamed that I stole a dark red 1987 Mercedes Benz 560-SL from outside of a play house/auditorium where the upper-class woman who owned the car was watchingher daughter's play. I drove it all over the City of Industry and the Port of Los Angeles, and then returned the car to the lot, only to find a reporter there and I asked if something had happened and she explained the situation and I played it off and drove away.

Inty says my life would be easier if I just forgot my dreams.

You'd die.

the complete opposite would involve stopping that habit of BREATHING.