Dreams, fights, explosions, mince
So once again I find myself contributing the blogosphere. Sitting up in my room in this pink shack. At some point tonight I’d like to go downstairs to punch and lift and stuff that guys my age do to mitigate instinctive tendencies toward aggression. Which reminds me of a recurring dream I’ll get to in a bit. Anyway, I’m blogging instead of going downstairs right now. In order to exit the house and go downstairs I have to run the gauntlet of three women cooking mince and their associated revelry. It’s not something I feel like facing at this juncture.
It’s just the cooking mince really. Man, even when I ate meat as a kid, I still found that smell pretty oppressive. As a child I’d note the swarms of blowflies crowding the kitchen screens when mince cooking was in progress, and wonder wtf the deal was.
Hello to you Cara, if you are reading!
Back to the aggression thing. Me and my brocousin have tried to commit as far as possible to remembering and writing down dreams upon waking of a morning. The goal is lucid dreaming. I haven’t come close to achieving that so far, but I sometimes remember to write down the dreams. And I’ve begun to notice some recurring themes emerging. The most obvious is the last three nights or so, and generally fairly often throughout the last few weeks, my dreams have roughly culminated in me beating the absolute shit out of someone. I didn’t think I was a real angry guy – ever since the jobquit and subsequent summer of fun, I’ve been chilled as. Yet here I am in my dreams, pounding and kicking people till they’re on the ground, and continuing to give them a good thrashing until others drag me away.
I used to always dream of running, sometimes away from danger or annoyance, but just as often for the sheer thrill. I never dream I’m running from people anymore. They run from me.
I’ve watched a couple of violent films lately. That could be to blame. Due to the fact I stopped playing violent games years ago, and don’t watch any TV or many movies, I’m not as desensitised to violence as most. So when I AM confronted with it, it’s pretty significant.
I also dreamt the world ended a few weeks ago. I wrote it all out, remembering it in fairly intricate detail, right up to and including explosions ripping across the land, being engulfed in flames and lava and my limbs going in different directions. I posted it here briefly, then decided it too horrific and promptly pulled it down. It remains in the vault with the other weirdness.
(#)
My dreams are often apocalyptic, but they’ve never been as horrendous as the afore-mentioned one. I woke up paralysed with shock. Took me a few days to get over. Thankfully no more have come.
The last few dreams have been boring as hell, probably due to not doing too much interesting most days.
I was going to talk about how I got a job, and nearly collapsed my lung and couldn’t bodyboard for a month, and how I went with my first ride on a small inflatable object towed by a sports boat at about forty knots.
That might wait till next time, got to go get some exercise before I fall asleep.
