Last night, I dreamed that I stepped out into the backyard, just to discover that there was a work crew building a small cottage out there. I watched them work for a while. I was unsure of why they were building a cottage in the back yard and I was a bit annoyed about it but I decided not to ask anyone because I knew I was too mad and I would probably end up snapping at someone and hurting their feelings.
Eventually, I stepped back inside my house. Stepping into the den, I saw that someone had turned on both the TV and my laptop. Now, I was really upset! Not only were strangers in the backyard but now someone had touched my personal property.
“Who did this!?” I snapped.
And then I woke up.
I have no dreams to report today so how about a clip from a classic film, instead?
From Hitchcock’s Spellbound, here’s a dream sequence that was designed by Salvador Dali!
Last night, I dreamed that I was standing in our backyard and trying to get our cat, Doc, to come down from the tree. Every time I said, “Come here, Doc! C’mon, kitty!,” Doc would just climb up higher in the tree and then stare down at me.
Without a doubt, this is the most true-to-life dream that I’ve had in a while.
Well, I did it again. I had a dream and, when I woke up, I got distracted and I didn’t immediately write it down. Now, I can barely remember anything about it, beyond the fact that it involved me talking to someone who had knocked on the front door. Hopefully, this time I’ll learn my lesson and remember to write everything down as soon as I wake up.
When Samuel Taylor Coleridge wrote Kubla Khan, he claimed that the entire poem came to him in a dream but, as he was writing it all down, he was interrupted by a “person from Porlock” who spoke to him for an hour. When the unwanted visitor finally left, Coleridge discovered that he could no longer remember the dream and, as a result, Kubla Khan would never be finished. I think we’ve got those persons from Porlock in our life. The key is figuring out how to deal with them.
I can’t really remember what I dreamed about last night. I do know I had a dream but, this morning, I spent nearly 20 minutes searching for my cat and trying to get him to climb out of a tree and I think my memories of that dream ended up drowning in all the stress. That’s one reason why it’s important to write these things down as soon as you wake up.
Since I don’t have a dream for you, how about I instead off up a little something from the great Spanish artist, Francisco de Goya?
Last night, I dreamed that I inherited a huge mansion in New York. I was really excited and I was having a lot of fun exploring all of the rooms and looking at all of the old furniture. The library was full of books. The walls were covered with valuable paintings. The only problem was that there were wasps flying through every room so I couldn’t stand in one place for too long. Finally, I looked out a window and I saw that there were hundreds of wasp nests on the outside wall.
That woke me up. I’ve always been scared of wasps, in both real life and my dreams.
I definitely did have a dream last night. I know that involved looking for my cat, which is a pretty common dream for me. Since I don’t really remember enough about the dream to write about it, how about a little poetry from Edgar Allan Poe instead?
A Dream Within A Dream by Edgar Allan Poe
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
I only got about two hours of sleep last night and, while I know I had a dream, my memories of it are very fragmented. Don’t you hate that? One of the problems that I have, when I don’t get a lot of sleep, is that my dreams are actually more difficult to remember than when I get a full night’s sleep. I guess if I ever want to have anything worthwhile to post on this site, I better start getting more rest.
As for last night’s dream, it featured my neighbor knocking on my front door and asking me and my sister if we would help him look for his dog. We told him that we would help but we also said that he needed to do a better job of keeping the dog from getting out. He rolled his eyes at us and I remember feeling very annoyed with him.
And that’s all I remember. Did we find the dog? Did we roll our eyes back? Sadly, I do not know.
Last night, I had a dream that I was 18 years old and sitting at the kitchen table of the house where my mom and I lived when I was in high school. I was waiting for my mom and dad to come home from seeing the doctor and I was worried.
(In real life, my mom and Dad divorced when I was 13.)
Finally, mom and dad stepped into the kitchen. They both looked extremely happy, certainly far more happy than I remember either one of them ever looking when they were together in real life.
“What did the doctor say?” I asked.
My mom smiled and said, “He says I’m okay. It wasn’t anything.”
“It was benign?” I said.
“Yes,” she said, “benign.”
In my dream, I started to cry.
(In real life, my mom passed away when I was 23 years old.)
Then my Dad said, “The doctor thinks I have a brain tumor.”
I looked over at him. “What?”
My Dad pointed at right eye. “It’s right up here,” he said. “That’s what they think. I don’t think it’s nothing.”
My mom and dad laughed.
And that’s when I woke up, feeling very sad.