I had a couple other things on my previous list I forgot to write out, but I then truly forgot what they were overnight.
Why? Because I had a brain explosion dream. Two, actually.
The first one wasn't cohesive. From a mental standpoint, it didn't even make sense. It was a trip, like I was on some hallucinogen. In fact, after I woke up, in a half-daze, at 2 in the morning, I saw a kaleidoscope of snow bubbling out of the center of a ceiling that had just previously been the top of an indoor pool. This dream included said pool full of ghosts that had substance only when you were in it, and wanted to talk, a bending roller coaster design that threatened to fill rooms and crush anyone inside, and about fifty other things I have since forgotten. It was a visual mess, a mentally overwhelming thing that, upon reflection, could only be about my lack of control over anything.
Especially my mental state? No, not mental state. Especially my inability to write, or act, of late. I feel the dream was something shared by my brother Lucas, which isn't much of a stretch at all, given the fact I've recently been wondering if I incorporate his "I prefer not to think of myself" strategy in my life. Lately, this has been true. I haven't been wallowing in self-pity, mostly because so many great things are happening in my life, but at the same time, I haven't pursued self-development and discovery. It's a theme that angers me, deep down, and I think my empathic side just showed me a window into Lucas's thought process that I NEVER would have seen otherwise. Even being as empathic as I am, some of the crap he says is just too far out there.
If he's ever seen, or dreamed, what I dreamed last night due to drugs or whatever, he makes just a little more sense to me. And that's a good thing.
The second dream was a journey. Almost the opposite of the first one. All broad-scope open scenery with definitive objects and a clear forward movement of everyone involved. We walked: five or six people, I don't know who, we walked through an uninhabited landscape. Not to say barren, as it was the most stunning of environments: broad, billowing trees pockmarking low-growing grass in islands of wood on a sea of green. The dream ended with the setting of the sun, and we sledded down a long hill, and someone hit a branch of the tree and stopped with a, "Drat." I continued sledding, reminiscent of a most treasured of Calvin and Hobbes endings, and I saw that a little girl made it much farther than me down the hill. We collected our bark sleds and walked away from the forest. I looked back and saw the tree the man hit was an overgrown birch, with bulbous trunks so heavy they bent down to the earth before continuing to grow up to the sky. In the volcanic twilight, the black-wooded forest stretching over the rolling hills contained trees no less encompassing than the birch, but so entirely formless in their uniformity you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. Yet this birch tree, alone, stark, beautiful, made me pause.
The old man that hit the tree patted my shoulder, and as I said, the dream ended. I want to go back. Hahaha
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