Do a few Google searches, and you’ll notice there’s at least one topic that seems to unite people. It goes something like this: “NOBODY wants to hear about your dreams, loser!”
We’re not talking hopes-and-dreams dreams, we’re talking that weird shit that goes on in your brain while you sleep. This is one of those things that really depends on who’s talking vs. who’s listening. When they’re your dreams, they’re fascinating. When they’re other people’s dreams, they’re boring. Lots of people want to tell, but nobody wants to listen.
I try to keep my dreams to myself, for the most part, but sometimes, that shit is so weird that it really needs to be shared with someone. Or the spousal unit really does want to know why I bolted upright out of a sound sleep shouting, “I don’t want the green one!”
I started thinking about this a couple of days ago, after I woke up from a brief dream about an eyebrow malfunction. The entire dream (or, at least the part I remembered) went like this: I got home from work, walked into the bathroom and looked into the mirror. I then discovered that my eyebrows had doubled in size and someone had shaved a lopsided triangle-like shape in the middle of one of them, and I thought, “Holy shit, did I walk around all day like this?” Then I woke up.
It’s probably ok to share a dream like that, should the conversation roll around in that direction. It’s short, it’s bizarre, and you could debate its meaning endlessly, if you really wanted to. I don’t. That’s where you lose me, because most of my dreams are so strange that I really, truly, honestly do not want them to somehow connect to real life.
So, the green thing. I was dreaming that a man took me into a garden. The garden was dominated by a hedge maze, but the hedges weren’t high enough for a proper maze yet. They came up to my forehead, and I’m kind of short. There were kittens all over, pouncing and playing and just generally being hella-kitten-cute amongst the hedges. They weren’t normal kittens. Each one was a bright, vivid color. Red kittens. Blue kittens. Yellow kittens. Purple kittens.
(Think you know where this is going? Heh.)
Did I mention that I was in shackles, and the man was holding a pair of garden shears? Big nasty ones with long rusty blades, like something you’d find in a shed in Resident Evil 7: Biohazard. He told me to pick out my favorite kitten, and I knew that when I did, he was going to cut off its tail with the shears. I refused to pick one. He decided that I’d spent more time looking at the green kitten than any of the others, and he picked it up. That’s when I woke up, yelling, “I don’t want the green one!”
When I was a kid, I used to have a recurring nightmare about a chemistry experiment gone horribly wrong.
In another, I was fleeing from bad guys. I was driving a red VW microbus, and they had guns. When I got home, I jumped out, folded the microbus up and stuck it in a planter, then proceeded to play a game of hide-and-seek with the bad guys throughout my inexplicably empty house. (My parents owned a red VW microbus when I was very small, but I have no memories of it–I just remember seeing pictures of it.)
I used to have nightmares about being trapped in a hellish realm with a monster chasing after me. This one wasn’t exactly the same from one dream to the next; I was running through hallways and rooms and huge, open hell-plains that were always changing. At some point, I’d leap (through a door, over the edge of something, etc.) and hit a slow-motion field. I was swimming through jelly in midair, while the monster (who was, of course, moving at normal speed) got closer and closer. When I saw the Hellraiser movies years later, the similarities were seriously eerie.
One monster-chasing-me nightmare had a bit of a twist: in that one, the world was normal, but the monster was a cartoon. A vivid, brightly-colored cartoon, and it flew. I only had that one once (that I remember), and I’m glad, because that thing was seriously messed up. At the time, I swore up and down that it came from somewhere–some movie I’d seen–but in all the years since, I’ve never been able to figure out what movie it might have been. Maybe I dreamed the movie, too. But I swear…
I haven’t had a nightmare in a while, now. Probably because real life is supplying us with plenty these days, isn’t it? Pop open any news site and you can wallow in all the misery you could ever want. Fires, unrest, school shootings, people who think that accusations about sexual harassment should just go away if you deny them… and if that isn’t enough for you, you can always brood over net neutrality, planned cuts to all sorts of safety nets, a burgeoning dictatorship, idiots who think that shouting “snowflake!” is somehow equivalent to having (and winning) a discussion… and there’s always North Korea.
The word of the day is “hypocrisy”.
Or maybe “pedophile”.
Or possibly “fascist”.
How, exactly, did we go from “hopes and dreams” to “Nazis and nuclear war” in like, two nanoseconds?
Oh, right. That’s how.
At this point, I’m marking time by the things I’d like to live to see. I have to make it to February so that I can see Matt Ryan’s Constantine on Legends of Tomorrow. I’m actually kind of ok with the fact that Far Cry 5 has been delayed a bit, because it looks like it might be a little too on point, but I am looking forward to it. I still need to see IT, and the latest Thor movie, and the next Avengers movie. The brass ring, at this point, is the last season of Game of Thrones, and it looks like we’ll have to get all the way to 2019 for that.
People shout gloom and doom all the time, and it usually affects me not at all. The world’s ending! Yeah, right. We’re going to end up in World War III! Probably not. [Insert politician’s name here] is going to ruin the US and our lives! Mmm, yeah, I’d say the odds are against it. I’ve maintained a thoroughly unaffiliated voter status for a long time now because I refuse to get caught up in this two-party bullshit. I have to live with the reality, but I’ll be damned if I’ll accept it.
These days, the doom scenarios feel like they’re a lot more plausible than they used to be. Be honest: if something akin to the Cuban Missile Crisis happened today, would you trust the President to negotiate a way through it? To put it another way… do you believe that Trump could pull a JFK with North Korea?
Ha. Ha. Ha ha ha ha haaaaa ooooh god…
Go ahead, let it out. Cry, or scream, or make the room echo with peals of horrified laughter. Or just stick your head up your butt and refuse to admit the truth. You’ll have plenty of company.
Alabama feels like a win. The temptation is to see it as a turning point, as a drop-dead line that, once passed, means the death of all that is stupid, racist, and mindbogglingly toxic. Except it probably won’t be. Elections are lot like rubberbanding when the lag gets really bad. For every step forward, we seem to end up going a step or ten back. For every action, an opposite reaction (though in the political arena, you can’t guarantee an equal reaction. Like Obama to Trump. Opposite, but definitely not equal.)
I had to take a break last week, because while I’d like to stick to talking about games and television shows and books and movies and weird crap that pops into my head, there’s all this impossible-to-ignore shit going on every day. Like how my Google feed was full of stories about Alabama last night, except for Fox News, which was dwelling on texts sent by…
I’d love to open an airlock door in my brain and vent all that crud into space. You know, so long as it didn’t suck out the grey matter right along with it. Which is what it seems to be doing anyway… hmm.
I’ve finally acquired PSVR, which is probably all about a very poorly-disguised wish to escape this freaking reality, but hell, I’ll take it. Let’s fire this baby up and shoot some alien spiders while stranded on a faraway planet that I can’t escape. It beats being stuck here 24/7.
I need a good brain bleaching. Or a relaxing round of deleting and defragging. Shock therapy. Selective memory removal? Can we just put someone who knows how to adult into power and forget the past year ever happened? If ever a country needed to take a mulligan…
No, that’s not the same as having a president who golfs all the time. No, really… look… if you’d just… for Pete’s sake…
Never mind. Here, have a video. There’s a cat and a chipmunk. They’ll make it all better.