Every now and then I slip into these strange dream cycles. For weeks, sometimes months on end I will fall asleep in my bed and awake in a totally different life. As each day passes here it’s like a night passes there; they’re two completely unique, structured existences. Its as though when my waking life sucks, my multiple personalities get bored with it and create their own reality. A simple mind – or a collection there of – can be a dangerous thing.
A friend of mine who has a degree in the subject told me that we don’t actually dream in color, but I contest that idea. Every one of my dreams are in vivid color, particularly green. Each of these dream sequences seems to take place in a woodsy, forested area so green is always a very prominent color.
One time I had an entire sequence, start to finish, of the final days of a civilization. I remembered each detail perfectly from washing my laundry by hand to seeing my loved ones die when the sky caught fire. Finally I wrote the story adding a bit of my own plot to it as I went. I took elements from my waking life and other life experiences to fill in the blanks, and it was turning into a really great story. I got about 30000 words deep into it or so and then put it down to give it a little rest. Since then, before I had a chance to really finish it the hard drive I had it saved on was stolen from me. I know who has it. I’ve asked for it back but ya know, people can be selfish (naw, I’m not bitter about that at all…).
Anyway in each dream I always have a home. For a long time it was an apartment with several layers that I actually based the home in the previous mentioned story from. Now I guess I’ve moved, because now the home I live in is an older cabin with several other people living in it.
So far this sequence has been my favorite yet. A few weeks ago while at a bar-b-cue I met a boy, and honestly I don’t think any waking boy could contest with him. I liked him so much I wanted my mom to meet him right away, but as I took him to meet her I realized I didn’t know his name! So I started to send txt messages to by best friend in the dream but he didn’t know either, then the dream ended.
Another night I dreamt that he had called me for a massage (I guess I’m a massage therapist there too) but the time coincided with our date that evening. So I had to call him and cancel the date, saying I had to work. Even though the client I would be working on was him. I know, right!
Now it’s been a little longer and we’ve gotten more comfortable with being together. In the dream I’m writing a book as well, and he is my muse. I haven’t had a muse in a long while, and even the muse I had before – no matter how discouraging and interruptive to my creative process he was – was still a muse. I think my writing process has been greatly affected by it as well. I’ve been trying to feed off this new dream boy as a muse, but I don’t even know his name! Him having a name probably wouldn’t be that great of an idea, because then I’d have named him and would be officially attatched.