narrate your dream

[nagarjuna]

I wanted a thread for posting interesting dreams, and decided to make an exercise out of it. The assignment: post a dream you have had, getting it as accurate in detail as you can recall, except write it as a story (or a poem or song, if you like.) This is loose. It could be in present tense or past, first or third person, you could break all the rules of syntax like Joyce or write it like a journalistic report. Naturally, it doesn't have to make a jot of sense or be "normal" in any other way.

Feel free to make it as long or short as you like.

[nagarjuna]

No takers? Shall I start?

[trinity]

Trinity stood before a graveyard that had mysteriously appeared next to her school. She walked further and further into the grave yard. It was beautiful, heart shaped leaves hung from trees and Crimson roses were entwined with vines,yet she felt someone following her.Finally, she arrived to a giant gate, the librarian was there. She opened the gate and let her in, roses where everywhere and she could hear music and children laugh. Strangely, she preferred the graveyard more. She followed the sound of the music and found dancing vegetables! Then she heard a voice she recognized, it was her brother telling her she couldn't stay, it's time to go back.

This is pretty much all I can remember from that dream, I still can't figure out what the dancing vegetables mean. :P

[TheWolfSecret]

Hmm, I'll give it a try :) (weird thing is- i had a dream about a certain famous person i HATE XD read to find out!)

I looked around, I didn't recognize the house, it was big, really big. It didn't feel right to me, but then maybe I was overacting.
"Ryan!"
I looked over my shoulder, some one was calling to me, but my name isn't Ryan. I'm a girl for gods sake!
"Ryan, you're gonna have to hurry it up bud if you want to make it to the competition on time."
Competition? What? When I looked down at my hand I saw a skate board in my hand, but it wasn't mine, this one was nice, not scratched up, and, was that the etnies logo? I could afford something that expensive! At least...I though I couldn't.
"RYAN!"
"Sorry coming." I said, the man nodded and headed towards a fancy bus. Strange.

(I cant remember what happened until this next scene sorry! :P )

"Great we've just missed that one!" The man, I still had no idea who he was, was now screaming at me, I didn't mean to make Ryan, er, me miss the skate boarding competition!
"I'M SORRY OK!?" Suddenly I felt anger building up, I went with it. "But do you ever think I want to be normal? This competition isn't important! I already won the semi finals!" And then I knew what I was talking about, "GOD! Ive done everything you wanted! Let me be me! Let me make friends who like me for me! Not for all the shit and fame I have!" The anger hurt my head, my hand curled into a fist, a tight one. My breathing was hard.
"Alright lets just all relax ok?" Now a woman, she looked like me, er, like Ryan. She must be Ryan's mother. "Ryan, dear, take Amy and go outside."
A pretty girl with blonde hair and the outfit I had worn before some how turning into Ryan Sheckler, a element hoodie and DC shorts.
"Geez Ryan what was that all about?" She asked shyly. Was she Ryan's friend?
"I'm just...sick of it all." I shrugged. The weird thing was, if this really was what Ryan was feeling, I was feeling it to when I was...me.
Amy laughed. "Well come on lets look around town. No use staying here, beside's you want to be normal?"
I nodded.
"Good. Were going shopping like normal people."
I smiled.

Well thats all I can remember! ^^' Of course i didn't edit it, I like to freely write everything and then edit it, because I'm going to start a whole story out of this!! :D

[nagarjuna]

Well thats all I can remember! ^^' Of course i didn't edit it, I like to freely write everything and then edit it, because I'm going to start a whole story out of this!! :D

Sounds like the dream delivery service got the wrong address. O_o I wonder if Ryan Scheckler dreamed he was you... strange.

[TheWolfSecret]

Sounds like the dream delivery service got the wrong address. O_o I wonder if Ryan Scheckler dreamed he was you... strange.

Lol now that would be really funny! XD

[tech.no.logic]

I had a really strange dream this night, I'll give it a try though I know it will make no sense at all :)

We were both standing at the snow-covered station in a small town in which neither of us lived in. I am just me, I guess, and he's the dragon man, my long-haired, good-looking clone dressed as a dragon. He wore a bicycle helmet.

Then I was selling dog candy, and I happened to come by his house, and he bought some. I had forgotten the dog candy, but he gave me payment anyway: his passport, some strange train tickets and instructions how to buy one. The only thought that went through my head then was that I have to look up his name before I wake up.

I looked in his passport, seeing his picture, he was smiling with his bicycle helmet on and he wore that dragon shirt just as usual, but I don't remember his name. I don't even know his name...

I met his wife on a writing course, she was a frail woman with red eyes. She kind of freaked out and somehow she ended up in my arms, screaming and crying that he would leave her, leave their kid or if there were two. And I just thought that I didn't do anything, I'm not the one who's taken her husband away from her. Or am I?


Waking up from this dream was rather odd...

[nagarjuna]

We were both standing at the snow-covered station in a small town in which neither of us lived in. I am just me, I guess, and he's the dragon man, my long-haired, good-looking clone dressed as a dragon. He wore a bicycle helmet.

Has to be the most awesome dream character ever. :P

[ScottyMcGee]

I had somewhat of a nightmare two nights ago. Well, it wasn't really a nightmare. It was one of those dreams that make you feel terrible after you wake up, only because you wish the dream had continued.

In my dream, I was shown what it would be like if I were in a relationship with every girl I knew. Of course I don't remember all of them off the top of my head, but I knew that I had dreamed of nearly all of them. I woke up and their faces flashes across my mind's eye.

Now, I know a lot of girls, probably more so than your typical pimp. But that's just the thing now, I'm not one. I just tend to confide more in females than males. After suffering four years of prison in an all-boys school, I've had enough of the dog-eat-dog world of boys.

The first girl I can remember in the dream was the one who lives right next to me in college, Victoria. I guess I have a little thing for her, despite that she already has a boyfriend. We're like an old couple singing Sinatra and Fitzgerald. So it was no surprise that in the dream, we sang together "Unforgettable" as we waited for the bus to come. The context of the dream I don't remember, but it was sweet and smooth.
Next thing I know I'm with Samantha. She's a model in real life, I'm not kidding. Though I never really could feel any sexual desire for her. She's too skinny and a typical blond bombshell. I'd rather pierce my testicles with a toothpick than try to force a sexual drive. But she's so odd. She does things one wouldn't think a person like her would do. She sits all day in her dorm being anti-social and watching movies and doing work. I just couldn't help but wonder what it'd be like, because in a way I can be anti-social too.
Then there's Yesenia, Hispanic like me. So maybe having someone of the same heritage would mean they could share some of the same sentiments? I didn't have to feel embarrassed about how I hung out with my parents, because all Hispanics know too well the realm of close-knit families. I don't know.

Then came the last one. The one that got away.
Her name was Oktavia. My history with her could both take up an entire topic or be summed up in a single sentence.
I was the boyfriend who never came to be in a relationship that never actually happened. Nothing but sighs and wasted effort that somehow meant something. And it's ironic because I always see and hear girls complaining about guys and how chivalry is dead and all that. Never once do they actually look at what's in front of them and see that some people like that do exist. And sometimes it's the princesses who don't.

It was implied that many years had passed. I was in either New York City or some European city; I don't remember. Some of my college friends wanted to gather at this festival by a harbor. One of them said she was going to be there. Curious, just curious, I wandered around wondering if I'd run into her.

I started my way and I saw this person on a tricycle (yes, a tricycle) coming towards me. it was this hideous, androgynous person who I frankly couldn't turn out if male or female. He, or she, was horribly drunk and high and got up and said, "Hey, Eddie" when I asked, "Oktavia?" The person then continued to ignore my presence, mostly because of his/her stupor, and stumbles into the local bar.

I stood there, flabbergasted. I trudge inside a cafe and look at the harbor. My friends came. I then said in a choked voice, full of pity and about to weep, "She's worse than ever before. Look at her!"

One of my friends laughs her ass off and says, "That's not Oktavia! That's her brother!"

"Then where is she?"

"Oktavia? She never came."

"Why?"

"She knew you were coming."

We sit there in silence.

The clouds formed and a rainstorm came. Another friend cursed because we had no umbrellas, and also because the festival began to wind down. One by one the tents were dismantled and the vendors left.

One by one, they all left until I was the last one sitting, watching the harbor and the rain.

I woke up and I feel like the most terrible in the world, right?

I woke up and felt the emptiness inside despite how spoiled my lifestyle has been. And I felt like a horrible person. Oktavia had been, so far, the only grand culmination of all those qualities.

I felt absolutely horrible. But only that moment. Only for the moment. One person, or a handful of people, may make you feel like the most deprived person in the world. But then you think about all those other people who have something to share. A man may be an island, but that doesn't mean he can't host other people who come across his way and make them happy. And so I once again was content with all that I had, having felt that every breath was worth breathing and every experience worth having.

[nagarjuna]

This dream was very long and involved. My dreams tend to turn out like stories, however weird, because I'll "narrate" them as I go along, half-conscious that I'm dreaming.

It started out coherent, but then broke down. Still, some cool stuff.

---------

It was my final semester at the Midwinter Academy, and exams were coming up. I had never been much of a social being, but suddenly I was being completely dominated by the social atmosphere around me. I didn't really want to, but I suddenly found myself among crowds of people. And that's how I met Cross.

On the surface, he was very plain. Grey hair, grey eyes, and a very quiet, polite demeanor. And yet he still enchanted me. He was so intelligent, with a kind of sexy wisdom. Like me, he was fairly introverted, but he got along well with everybody all the same.

At first we were friends; at first. Then we were more than friends. But I wouldn't exactly call us lovers. He had never struck me as the kind of person who would be into kink, but that perception soon changed. We did all kinds of bizarre stuff -- at his insistence. And somehow it never became sexual -- it was sort of a ritual between us, a sacrament of friendship. He liked me to hang from the ceiling while he walked backwards around the room. I don't why he enjoyed that, but I loved him so I participated.

And now it was the day before exams. I found myself in a high tower of the school, a sort of wooden watch-tower looking onto a rocky shore and bleak grey sky. I knew that we definitely weren't supposed to be there. Cross and I started to make love. Then a woman in a white gown, having the ambiguous dictatorial look of a nun crossed with a nurse, burst through the door. Busted.

I didn't mean to kill her. It was self-defense. I knew that we would both be expelled. Without thinking, I pushed her. She reeled, and toppled over the side of the tower, falling down, down, down, to shatter into a thousand pieces on the rocks, as though she were a porcelain doll. I stood for a moment in shock. And then we ran.

It was hard to stay hidden, because everybody was out and about. Not only was it finals, but it was Christmas, and all the students were huddled in a chilly mass in a long line for the Christmas meal, chatting, shouting, and singing songs. I caught strains of some of the songs -- they were about the Holy Spirit. It was also Easter.

When I got my bearings, I realized that Cross was no longer holding my hand. I looked around for him -- not there. Bucking discretion, I plunged into the mass of people, pushing and shoving, shouting "Cross! Cross!" and asking everyone if they had seen him. I was terrified that he was gone.

I found him crawling underneath the wooden walkway the students were lined up on. I hurriedly got under the boards with him. It was hard to move, because the students were trampling us from above, and I felt like we were going to suffocate. It was also dark. Finally, we made our way out and ran along the rocky shore, which was just beginning to collect banks of snow. We found a snowdrift to hide behind, and collapsed to the ground, breathing hard.

I wept miserably. I looked at Cross. His eyes were wet, with a visibly pained expression on his face. But I wondered why he seemed so unaffected. I thought, he must be an incredibly strong person.

Somebody else was there with us. We were frightened, thinking she had followed us. She reassured us that she was also on the lamb. Her name was Maria Eleanor. "My friends call me Eli," she said. We immediately made a three-way pact of friendship.

(Wait, what was my name? Was I male or female? That's right -- I was a girl, but also a boy, and my name was John.)

My mind drifted to a scene in a quiet, well-lit room, coated with snow, except the snow was warm and shining. We were locked in a three-way kiss. I didn't come out of my revery until it hit me where we were. We were on a gravelly path in the middle of the woods. We had been walking for some time.

Somehow, even though we were fugitives, we ended up running to the most unlikely place: campus housing. All of the residence halls of the upperclassmen were connected. We hoped to make our way through all of them and out the other side, without getting caught; that was the only way out.

Most of the residents ignored us, but one girl started to harass us and wouldn't let us through. Her name was Ted, she told us. She would have looked quite normal, even beautiful, if not for the pig snout. She seemed proud of it, in fact she'd had major reconstructive surgery, closing up her old nostrils and opening up new ones, one of which was pierced, the other studded with a diamond. She bragged about how deep her voice was. "I know girls named Ted with much deeper voices than you," I sneered. Eli kicked my shin. "Let's go!" she whispered.

We plodded through a seemingly infinite network of rooms. In one, a circle of Jewish students were sitting silently. I realized that they were observing Shabbat, and ssshed my companions. We tried to go down the stairs as quietly as possible, making sure not to break the sabbath by working -- that would be rude!

I don't know what happened to us after that, but I know now that Cross and Maria Eleanor will always be with me, a trinity of fugitive lovers. At first I was bitter that I missed my exams, but that faded. Some things are meant to end.

[tech.no.logic]

Has to be the most awesome dream character ever. :P
Indeed! Take off the bicycle helmet and he's actually real...

[miss_smiley]

(Yay! I managed to remember a dream! This is extremely rare, particularly remembering it in this detail - usually I don't remember a thing! But here it is, all nice and set out too. And it's even fairly coherent. =] )

She stares dully at the room, tracing it's every contour and line with her eyes, as if she were trying to imprint it on her retina. She sighs, drawing her brows together, her eyes hopeful and sad.

When is he coming back?

The days have blurred and it's not entirely clear to her if that room was once filled. But she does know who will or did occupy it. His image always lurks at the back of her mind, fleeing as the vaguest brush of thought touches against it. She sees his face at the corner of her eye, catching vague glimpses of his likeness on the faces of people in the street.

Is he coming? I'm sure he's coming... I...

She begins to doubt herself. Will he come? She feels like she knows him so well. She'll be able to tell at a glance who the occupant of that room should be. She knows his heart and knows that she keeps it.

So she sits. And stares.

Weariness pulls at her lids, sitting on the edges of her lashes, weighing them down with simple pleasure. She closes them, feeling the relief. Her eyelid weighs into her lower lashes, as if intent on joining itself with them in perfect blindness. The cool wind of the room blows against her face.

A sound. Her eyes snap open.

A man sets down his suitcase on the bed of the room, irreverently.

Startled, vague panic arises, half-asleep. Entering that room, for the wrong person, seems almost sacrilege to her. She arises, considering the idea of shouting the man down.

No. She is too shy. It would come out as a tinny squeak, nothing like the imposing voice she would hope to muster.

Perhaps I can tell him gently? Get him to leave without a fuss, out of kindness?

Cynicism rolls its eyes at this idea, but she summons her courage and marches towards the door.

The man turns to look at her.

She halts, one foot frozen in mid-air, too stunned to even feel the effect of gravity. Something powerful hits her, sending ripples through her heart.

She knows that face, so long has it haunted her every step, her every moment, sleeping or waking. This face possesses more, though, like the real landscape as compared to a pale painting. He commands the space he holds.

She half-laughs, a choked, throttled sound, stunned and unprepared.

His eyes trace her face, a wide smile breaking over his own. His arms drop their carriage as they float out involuntarily.

She runs to him, closing the gap between them and hurls herself into him, feeling his warm arms enfold her, holding her close to him. She rests, truly comfortable at last, her head on his chest.

"I'm here." His voice lies against her ear, his chest thrumming like a guitar string beneath her cheek.

And she smiles.