Sometimes Dreams are Awesome. And Sometimes They Suck

Sometimes dreams just suck, okay? I don’t mean the goals or aspirations sort of dream–those, no matter how silly or insignificant they may seem to other people, are always good (or at least I think so). No, I’m talking about the literally brain-drama that happens when you sleep.

Usually, my brain dramas are pretty cool. Very action-thriller-spy-movie esque. They’re entertaining, to say the least.

But lately I’ve been having these… ordinary dreams. Dreams that could easily be reality, but a better reality than the one I’m currently in.

Take last night, for example. I dreamt that I was finally able to quit my job and be a full-time artist-person. I dreamt that I left work for the last time, went home, and then spent the time doing whatever the fuck I wanted because I didn’t have to get up and be at some office in the morning. I made plans to visit some friends from out of state. I painted something. (Time, being pretty much nonlinear and totally messed up  in dreams, somehow had gone back to morning.) I went out to a restaurant and met up with friends and celebrated not having to be anywhere important and dress professionally.

And while I know that, sure, if I was able to pull off the whole full-time creative person thing, that I would have obligations. I’d have to make money, for one thing, and that means working on new pieces of art and writing and whatnot. I know that I would have some obligations–like meetings and book signings and maybe even a convention booth or two.

But those aren’t necessarily everyday things. My job would be to create, not dress up and go to an office to answer phone calls. I could be happily at work at 3 in the morning in my pjs and kitty slippers, typing away–and I’d still be working.

So, when I woke up this morning, realizing that it was all in fact a dream, and that I really did have to get up to go to work this morning?

Yeah, yeah that really sucked.

Thanks brain.




Dreams are Strange

Last night I had some very trippy dreams. Usually my dreams are pretty strange and surreal, (perhaps it’s the writer in me? I don’t know), but last night’s in particular… Well.

The first dream I had the lovely Lissa, my boss, and I were touring Japan. We got trapped on this old wooden bridge during a tsunami, and then the yakuza attacked us. It was very vivid, and a tad frightening (as in, the dream itself bridged on nightmare).

THEN, the next dream, I lived in this underground post-apocalyptic community, where everything was steel bunkers and old sewer lines and raggedy clothes. In this one, there were these wooden jig-saw puzzle/models (the kind you get at hobby stores and put together) of dragons, that were coming to life and breathing fire on people.

FINALLY, to wrap up the night,  I was Steve Rogers (yes, as in Captain America–although he/I was more like a darker version of Commander Rogers from the Ultimates…) from some distant point in the future. At one point he/I had said I was over 700 years old. I had come from the future back to our (? time travel is confusing…) time, to stop Max from The Losers from taking over the world a la Hitler-style with a radical group of neo-Nazis he gotten together. There were lots of laser guns and cyborgs, and Tron-like outfits.


Anyway, I don’t think I am even going to attempt to analyse what these dreams may have meant. If you’d like a shot at it, knock yourself out. I’m just going to sit here and sip my coffee, and give my obviously over-heated brain a break.

Oh, and in other, more exciting news, my psuedo-brother (we’re like soul-siblings! The brother I never had, if it wasn’t for the fact I have a biological brother already…) finally got an XBox 360 so we can finally play online together! Yay!

Catch you later!