A few days ago I had a really bizarre dream. It was one of those dreams that you wake up from and think “This dream was so good, I believe sharing it with others will make me my life’s fortune. I need to write this dream down so I don’t forget it.” This, I’m sure, is what happened with films like Stephen Spielberg’s “E.T”, and Hulk Hogan’s “Suburban Commando”. Unfortunately, I didn’t write that dream down. But it got me thinking about other dreams I’ve had, that I did write down. So I’ll share those instead.
The most common thing for me is to have the same people continuously reappear in dreams. People like early 90’s Meg Ryan, or shirtless Channing Tatum. But occasionally, I’ll have some dreams that just keep showing up.
For example: if I watch something inspirational before I go to sleep, like The Pursuit of Happyness, or the season finale of Survivor: All Stars (I’ll never forget you, Rupert), I’ll have this dream where I prove a large group of people wrong by singing really well despite my appearance.
Speaking of Susan Boyle, didn’t she end up losing to some like, gang of shitty Russian jugglers or something? Classic.
I also once had a dream that I was on a plane. The in-flight movie was Blood Diamond. I remember spending a large portion of my dream watching Blood Diamond. At some point during the movie, a raccoon fell out of the luggage compartment into the aisle, and a stewardess approached it. The raccoon was being all raccoony, and cleaning its paws and shit.
Here’s the twist: as soon as the stewardess touched it, the raccoon bit her in the throat and starts sprinting throughout the plane. She’s bleeding out next to me, and the raccoon is ripping around the aisles, biting all these people in the throat. So the dream went from peaceful, movie-viewing dream, to insane-raccoon-throat-biting-rampage dream. It’s running around the plane, tearing out vital wires, and everyone else is screaming. Then our plane crashed. Hijacked by a raccoon. Everything goes a bit blurry, and I notice that I’m the only one alive on the plane, and it’s crash landed on an island. I climb out of the plane, and just kind of casually observe that an army of raccoons on horseback is riding towards me. Which I’m sure just symbolizes that I’m stressed out by school work or something like that.
Along those lines, I had a dream where I was walking through a Target, and there were just shady dolphins walking around. Nobody noticed the dolphins but me, and they were all over the place. Not doing anything overly suspicious, just buying beef jerky, walking through aisles: normal Target shopper behavior. It was like the least exciting Twilight Zone episode you could imagine.
Eventually the dream turned back to me giving intensive swimming lessons to early 90’s Meg Ryan, but that dolphin part really made me think. What if dolphins aren’t the cute, smart, lovable sea mammals we think they are? What if the dolphins we see got shafted in the dolphin job lottery, and have to spend their lives jumping up and down out of the water naked?
What if the real dolphins have some secret underwater society that’s like, thousands of years more advanced then ours? Think about it.
About a month ago, I dreamt that I was driving in a convertible on this really dangerous, mountain road. One of those roads that has no guardrail. Like the road that kills Michael Keaton and turns him into a snowman in Jack Frost. So I was driving up this road, and I suddenly notice that there are mountain lions all around me. Dozens and dozens of large mountain lions are just walking on this road. So I’m avoiding them pretty well, making my way up fine, when all of a sudden, I hit a bump, and something flies out of my trunk. It suddenly occurs to my dream self that whatever fell out was extremely important to me. I slammed on the breaks and got out of the car. Here’s the weird part. The thing that I cared about so much was a large, blue, cartoon duck. A two-dimensional blue duck. In an otherwise three-dimensional dream.
So I start screaming at the duck to get back in the car. The duck is waddling back towards me, but it’s having a lot of trouble, being two-dimensional and all. “PSYDUCK! NOOOO!” I’m screaming. The duck looks nothing like the Pokemon. That’s just coincidentally the ducks name, I guess. The mountain lions start getting closer to my cartoon duck, and I wake up. And I feel my face, and notice that I’m crying. Over a blue 2D duck.
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