Dudes. I am freaking out.
Aside: This post veers slightly from our regularly scheduled programming, in that it is more about dreaming and journalling and geeking out over dreaming and journalling, but I will try and bring it all back around so it makes some sense. And in case you were wondering, I have nothing to report on the writing/novelizing because I haven't done squat, but I'm not gonna bitch about it, because it's my own damn fault, and I gotta put on my big girl panties and DEAL WITH IT.
Back to the freak out. I have kept a journal that is exclusively for my dreams. Not my castles in the air, but the actual night-time, eyes closed sort of dreaming. I have incredibly detailed dreams, occasional lucid dreams, and full-on sleep paralysis. (If sleep paralysis has never happened to you, pray that it doesn't. It sucks.) At times, I wake and remember every minute detail. At times, I wake and know I had a dream, that it was incredible, or horrible, or a best-seller, only to forget it. At times, I wake and feel the dream start to melt out of my brain pan, and know the only way to catch it's gossamer threads is to write it down. Sometimes, I just write down words to spark memories so I can write it down later. Sometimes, even that doesn't work, and they melt away like spun sugar on the tongue.
I began the dream journal on 3/24/01 and entered the last dream on 12/28/12. Part of the reason it lasted so long is because of long breaks between writing dreams down. Either I got lazy, had long stretches where I didn't remember any, or decided the notating intensified them and it got where I couldn't handle it anymore. In a space of one spread of pages, I note that I will no longer write my dreams down. Here is one entry, undated, in the middle of the page:
Quit writing these down. I've become too obsessed but now... I feel the need to start "saving" them again.
I wrote one dream after this, on 7/7/11 (where Nicole Kidman gave me an MTV movie award.) But there are no other dreams written until 1/7/12. I had changed my mind almost immediately after the award thing, and the next entry begins:
Why I stopped writing my dreams. Pretty much because it seemed the more I wrote them down, the more I had them. My dreams are so intense and can be so horrible - the effects can last all day. The dreams become more intense, more real, more disturbing. Now, however, I feel like I'm missing out on something. (meaningless babble redacted) I'm going to try and start writing them down again. We'll see how this goes.
After this, January and February's dreams fill the pages. Only a few are dated March and there is a gap until August. September and October have one entry each. December fills ten pages (front and back). But of course, I was at the end of the journal and felt a push to fill the pages and finish it. More than ten years of dreams. In one place.
I had already chosen another journal for my next dream journal. It's a velvet covered thing, no lines inside, with an image from my favorite fairy artist Selina Fenech on the cover. (Here is the image ) I am trying to glue it back together, as it had an unfortunate accident and the paper came loose from the binding. Then I wanted to do this post, and thought I'd try and find a picture of the previous journal... It's a green and gold beauty, covered in dreamlike images and quotes about dreams from poems, letters from artists and prose. I had tried before by searching the artist and company and had no luck at all. This time, I searched for Dream Journal and lo and behold, I found it on Amazon.
Sigh.
First of all, I have NO money to buy it, and 2nd, I've already written last night's crazy equestrian dream down in the journal, whose binding is, as we speak, covered in glue and drying. Maybe I need to move on. But it's hard, when that journal is so gorgeous. And no, I'm not linking to it in case I decide to buy it when I have monies.
Did I mention there is only 1 left in stock?!
Sigh.
But I said I would bring this all around. I feel like noting these things, these bits of mind madness, is important. Sometimes, I wake from a dream, and I know it's not random garbage, that my mind trying to tell me something. Sometimes, like yesterday, I wondered why the fuck my mind would tell me something I already know, other than the fact that it is a scumbag brain and wants to hurt me right in the feels. But I wrote it down, got it out, and maybe, just maybe, it helped a little. And writing dreams down is an excercise: It is HARD. They are so random, and things change so drastically. I often start out in a car, and then find myself on horseback instead. Trying to nail down the plot can be impossible, if there even is a plot. Last night was about horses spilling out of a giant truck. That was pretty much the only point to the dream. And what part of the dream is "important" enough to write down. All of it? The "message" of the dream - should that even be pondered? I often don't bother. I just write down what happens or what images I remember, unless I think I know what the dream means or it brings up strong emotions. The last dream in the book is incredibly intense and upsetting. I guess the journal went out with a bang!
