Outside of being sick, the other thing occupying a lot of my thought is: dreams.
Not “dreams” in the “I’d love to win a MacArthur Fellowship” or “I’d love to spend an afternoon in Malibu after a night celebrating Of Mirth and Matter’s Grammy win” but more in the traditional, REM-sleep-related sense.
Most of the time my dreams, when I can recall them, are the normal bits of nonsensical effluvia consistent with the brain more or less taking a mental dump and clearing space. But every now and then they become hyper-realistic, very lucid, stay-with-me-for-days-later phantasmagorias.
The latest one involved not my stumbling upon not one but two suicide attempts by my moved-to-Boston-and-we-haven’t-talked-in-over-a-year ex. I suppose it’s somewhat fitting that a weird relationship resulted in a weird dream, but it’s several days later and it’s still unsettling me.
Sure, on one hand I’m college educated. Post-college I still crack the occasional difficult book or Harper’s or Atlantic Monthly. That part of me says there’s no realistic evidence that a dream could predict or reflect a reality I’m unaware of (now given that there was much in Elizabeth Wurtzel’s Prozac Nation she could relate to it’s not a stretch to think that she might still be dealing with depression now). On the other hand, it sure seemed real to me and in several situations where I’ve ignored a gut feeling I’ve come to regret it. Sure, there’s no factual evidence for it…but it’s happened and I believe it.
So on the one-in-a-hundred-thousand chance you stumble on this, Katy, happy belated birthday, hope you’re doing well.
And that aside, for you few regulars that actually read this regularly (and not just to spam me with info on porno or body sprays) what’s your take on dreams?
1 comment:
My dreams are very vivid and, more often than not, prophetic. I'd shoot her an e-mail if you still have the address.
By the way I have this body spray that makes women want to be in pornos with you that I want to sell.
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