TONS of Dreams

This Apples & Peanut Butter stuff is no joke…

Just before bed, I ate an apple, a bit of peanut butter and wrote REAL fast and sloppy my day’s highlights, from waking up to the moment I started writing. I played some Lumosity brain/memory games and set my alarm for about 4-5 hours later.

But I woke up at 1am, with dreams, 3am, with dreams, and 5am, with dreams and whereas just a week ago I’d be happy ti remember any stupid dream, I had so many last night I just couldn’t keep getting up (and I’d hate to wake my wife voice recording at bed side).


Quick work related dream, which I can’t remember much about except that people were fearing my boss’s reaction to something and we were all in an city’s apartment building. I REALLY wish I went lucid, because destroying a city ala General Zod in Superman is kind if a lucid goal I have, haha! Oh, and my boss put me in some strange position, which embarassed me, in order to show every some scoreboard (it wasn’t very “logical” or rational).

Mobsters & Father-in-Laws
Then I was watching a protagonist sitting with three other men at a fancy dinner setting, one of the men was a weasley low end mobster, the other a real untrustworthy and dangerous character, and the last one was my father-in-law (which sounds infinitely funnier when read that out loud).

The protagonist was in over his head, both in conversation and the mafioso business being discussed. At a point in their meeting, the scary guy asked if everyone wanted to ride in his luxarious car, to which they all agreed and left the restaurant.

The protagonist and the weasel were outside, in a mostly demolished urban lot with a few structural walls still standing to the otherwise totaled buidling (was my subconscious taunting my lucid goal or just trying to get me there?).

Behind a wall, the weasel asked him, “I thought you usually dislike this guy?”, to which he replied, “I never said I DIDN’T like this guy.”

The protagonist walked around the half destroyed wall to see the mob-killer standing there, pointing a gun. He fired, and the protagonist went down.

I was annoyed by this, so I started thinking how the scene SHOULD’VE played out. The hero had on a bullet-proof vest this time (real creative, I know), and when he was shot, he feigned death.

-I- now “woke up” in the rubble that morning, and walked down some alleyway stairs where two black cops were just starting their beat. I grabbed one and said, “I have the journal… of… a murderer!”

Woke up at 1am, and recorded the above dreams. I had a Dream Song in my head that sounded like Sting or The Police. The lyrics were kind of non-sensical, “Love is a radio, and I want another cup!”

What the what?? I forgot the melody, unfortunately.

Nickelodian Kid Band
This one ain’t even worth recording, except I gotta remember as many dreams as possible to encourage more dream memories. So…

I really dislike the TV dreams, where I’m not IN the dream, I’m just watching them (a nightmare has no fear factor, and an intrigue like the above loses it’s impact). But some are literally TV dreams. I dreamt I was watching Nickelodian and a kid band played a song that was like a cross between BLINK-182’s All the Small Things and THE PIXIES’ Wave of Mutilation. I remember at first thinking, “These kids’re gonna be really good when they grow up,” but then I started thinking it might be fake due to the vocals.

I know I had some more dreams, but I must not have recorded my last set. That’s what I get.

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