Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Dreams and Shoulder Meds

Lately my dreams have been very present and at the same time difficult to recall. "Present" is the closest I can come to the description of how they've been different the last two weeks -- I was going to say "more real," except all of my dreams feel real to me. I was going to say "less removed," except, now that I think about it, the point-of-view of the dreams really hasn't changed that much, being about the same ratio of me watching the dream as if I were watching a movie or TV (or floating above myself) to me dreaming the events happening to me.

Snip One: It was day. I have an impression of red rock cliffs. I was flying in my black and purple cloak. Sometimes I have to really concentrate on flying to do it; sometimes there's a sense that my cloak is operating like wings; sometimes I have to flap my arms. This time, I was flying as easily as walking.

Snip Two: It was early morning. I was outside in a kind of swamp or jungle, only not very humid. I saw a white heron with a subtle blue glow fly by; a trace of light around feathers and wings. It joined a whole flock of herons in a small, mediaeval, wooden sailboat behind me.
Together with all the other herons, a blue glow lit the white sail. The boat flew into the air with all the herons in it.

Snip Three: In another, very convoluted dream, Cher was a sort of Storm character (from The X-men). I was a cross between Wolverine (X-men) and Batman (Batman). Lots of fight scenes. Cher/Storm was abducted by The Bad Guys and made into serve as a kind of sexual dynamo powering their (hey, this was a dream!) Evil Mind Control Country Music.
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