7/12/2005
In the waking world: There were many, many dreams last night. Most were short with no real kick to them. Others were longer and, although powerful, were fleeting and unremembered after fully waking.
Dream 1: A friend, Rick, needed a place to stay and we offered our spare room. He moved in and the room started getting messy. Really messy, with piles of dirty clothes on the floor. I was worried that I would not be able to get it cleaned ever again.
In the waking world: I did share a hotel room with Rick during a convention and the piles of dirty clothes in the dream looked a lot like the piles of dirty clothes in the hotel room.
Dream 2: I was riding in the back seat of a 1965 Chevrolet Impala, behind Russil, the driver. We were following my parents somewhere and they were getting ahead of us. The car would sputter occasionally and Russil kept commenting that if it died he would just leave it on the side of the road. This bothered me because I had given the car to Russil when I had gotten a newer one and was sure that whatever the problem, it was probably minor and could easily and cheaply be repaired. I tried to get Russil to play a CD of music that I wrote and performed but he was too obsessed with being annoyed at the car to care about listening to music. The road we were driving was an old country road with large, overhanging trees. Eventually, we turned into a suburban fast food place. My parents had been here but were long gone and to save time we decided not to eat and instead just licked the wrappers my parents had left behind.
In the waking world: Russil is an old friend that I haven't seen in years. He's a struggling musician who roomed with me for a few months. The 1965 Chevrolet Impala is one of my favorite cars.
Dream 3: Riding as a passenger in the front seat of a car (make, model and driver unknown) I am surprised by the drivers aggressive maneuvering. He (I am assuming that this is a man driving) tries to pass another car by pulling onto the left shoulder. As we come alongside the car I realize that this is a 1965 Chevrolet Impala and that the blonde woman driving is someone I recognize but don't know. Rather than being annoyed with our driving, she starts speaking to us from behind her rolled up window. Then he window is down and I can hear her asking us how to get to the Everglades Parkway. I try to tell her that she is nowhere near the Everglades and that she will need to stay on I-75 for another 100 miles and the Parkway will have signs but she is insistent that the road she is looking for is right in this area.
Dream 4: I wrote a song called "Heroes" and am listening to it being played as part of the soundtrack to a movie. Since I wrote it, I know the words and sing along.
In the waking world: The song sounds an awful lot like the song "Feelings" and even has that woe-woe-woe part... Heroes-woe-woe-woe, Heroes. Wonder if I can be sued for copyright infringement for plagiarising a song in my sleep.
Dream 1: A friend, Rick, needed a place to stay and we offered our spare room. He moved in and the room started getting messy. Really messy, with piles of dirty clothes on the floor. I was worried that I would not be able to get it cleaned ever again.
In the waking world: I did share a hotel room with Rick during a convention and the piles of dirty clothes in the dream looked a lot like the piles of dirty clothes in the hotel room.
Dream 2: I was riding in the back seat of a 1965 Chevrolet Impala, behind Russil, the driver. We were following my parents somewhere and they were getting ahead of us. The car would sputter occasionally and Russil kept commenting that if it died he would just leave it on the side of the road. This bothered me because I had given the car to Russil when I had gotten a newer one and was sure that whatever the problem, it was probably minor and could easily and cheaply be repaired. I tried to get Russil to play a CD of music that I wrote and performed but he was too obsessed with being annoyed at the car to care about listening to music. The road we were driving was an old country road with large, overhanging trees. Eventually, we turned into a suburban fast food place. My parents had been here but were long gone and to save time we decided not to eat and instead just licked the wrappers my parents had left behind.
In the waking world: Russil is an old friend that I haven't seen in years. He's a struggling musician who roomed with me for a few months. The 1965 Chevrolet Impala is one of my favorite cars.
Dream 3: Riding as a passenger in the front seat of a car (make, model and driver unknown) I am surprised by the drivers aggressive maneuvering. He (I am assuming that this is a man driving) tries to pass another car by pulling onto the left shoulder. As we come alongside the car I realize that this is a 1965 Chevrolet Impala and that the blonde woman driving is someone I recognize but don't know. Rather than being annoyed with our driving, she starts speaking to us from behind her rolled up window. Then he window is down and I can hear her asking us how to get to the Everglades Parkway. I try to tell her that she is nowhere near the Everglades and that she will need to stay on I-75 for another 100 miles and the Parkway will have signs but she is insistent that the road she is looking for is right in this area.
Dream 4: I wrote a song called "Heroes" and am listening to it being played as part of the soundtrack to a movie. Since I wrote it, I know the words and sing along.
In the waking world: The song sounds an awful lot like the song "Feelings" and even has that woe-woe-woe part... Heroes-woe-woe-woe, Heroes. Wonder if I can be sued for copyright infringement for plagiarising a song in my sleep.
posted by GFK at 7:17 AM
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