Faster than the colors could be seen, they were gone. Then they would come again, spinning in circles, spinning around. Eyes closed to the chaotic spin of vibrant sounds and voiceless pictures. One thing would lead to another, the grass led to the tree, the tree led to the roots, the roots led to the earth, the earth fed the roots, the roots fed the tree, the tree grew, the branches formed like fingers reaching into the sky, the sky was grey, blackbirds were like silhouettes in motion flying across the sky, the clouds hung in the sky, the sky changed colors and turned to tomorrow…maybe sleep would come then, but that’s wishful thinking.
Dreams full speed ahead, bright colors, sounds, smells, emotions…even memories. From room to room, the rooms change, the house gets remodeled the people age from dream to dream, from decade to decade. Their names never to be heard, their faces are always remembered, in the dreams, they do not leave the dreams, they do not occupy life, as I know it, while in a wakened state of mind. This would become me, awake or asleep, there could be no difference, could there?
And that’s when I lie there in bed, eyes open to pitch blackness, and feel like my battery is dying, but the sparks that are flying from it’s passing, keep me wide awake…until eventually, like a plane crashing into the sea, the speed stops, things become still, suddenly…a slow sinking, a peaceful stillness that becomes sleep, as we know it. This other realm begins at this point, the one I sink slowly into, and become like. No longer able to understand the difference between the two, I let go of the former and fall into the nether…

There were boxes upon boxes upon boxes, in row upon row upon row, in a large warehouse with bright orange steel bars creating shelf upon shelf. Boxes of all sizes and wear, some were old and torn around the edges, some exposed little glimpses of past dreams, places I had been before, things I had seen and suddenly I am outside, walking the streets, it’s night and there are strangers all around me, there always are in these dreams, and I am often avoiding people, running into strange oddities of personalities, running into basements, that have open doors, that have people hiding behind them, behind windows with faces that I never can make out…forests and roads that I’ve been down a thousand times, drives I’ve taken, bridges I’ve crossed and fallen deep into the waters below it, trying to save myself from drowning. It’s far too crazy, far too surreal. I know the bridge in my dream, I know well before I get to it that something terrifying is going to happen, and obviously survival wins, because I have no choice but to eventually wake up.  I walk into bars, meet up with old friends that I haven’t seen in years….from other dreams, these are people I’ve never known in my waking life.  There is always the cross theme of danger…there are always places I visit, that I hadn’t been to in decades…in dreams of a younger life.

What is it that causes this? I’ve found it fascinating to analyze dreams, and I’ll admit, I’ve been pretty good at it sometimes, except for when it comes to my own! I believe that most dreams are triggered from an experience that has happened in the past 48 hours. I believe there are dreams, that are ‘just dreams’ and really don’t have a significant meaning. You may have watched a movie about magicians, saw a kid get lost in a big black hat and dreamt of falling into a rabbit hole…perhaps the hat in the magicians hand…shouldn’t have made a kid disappear, but a white rabbit appear…cuz it’s pretty much what you expect, right?  But often the symbolism in dreams, pertains to something that occurred in the past 48 hours.

I think most dream books are a bunch of crap. No one can tell you what dreaming of a black cat means, perhaps you have a fondness for black cats, but the  book generalizes it to claim black cats mean evil…Well maybe for those superstitious people…I happen to have a great liking to black cats.  So the symbol is in your dream is quite pertinent to you and your life and experiences, not anyone else’s.

I often dreamt of cats, but when I was very young I dreamed of strange bugs in my basement. As I grew older, the bugs turned into mice, which turned into rats, which turned into cats…I don’t get those dreams too often, and if I do, they’re often cats, in basements, that can’t seem to wake up, they sleep a lot, they’re often in the same house every time I dream it, but the house changes and so do the people in it.

What’s more interesting, is that the ideal dream temperature is a room about 58-60 degrees Fahrenheit…and if it’s cooler and you are prone to nightmares, you might want to warm it up a notch. Cooler temperatures are idea for bizarre dreams and for some, nightmares.  I’m not prone to nightmares, just vibrant and bizarre dreams, repeating and evolving.  They’re never the same exact dream, they’re like stories being told while I sleep, that progress and change and play off my waking life by reminding me that I’m asleep. I’ve become aware that my dreams are dreams, when I realize in my dream “Oh, I’ve been here before…” and then suddenly I’m snapped back into it again.

The most bizarre dream…well, one of the most bizarre ones I’ve had, I was in a red pickup truck, this was a short time after a very good friend of mine, committed suicide in my waking life.  So in my dream, I’m in the drivers seat of this red pickup truck, it’s daytime, and a man comes up to me, puts a gun to my head and pulls the trigger. I heard a hell of a bang, a forceful gust of wind, and then pure blackness. No sound. No light. Nothing.
That’s how I’m guessing death is.  Perhaps that is what it was like for him, he shot himself.
The song Butterfly Blue came from that experience.

The other strange one, was when I was much younger, and I was in the woods, in my pajamas chasing bugs bunny and elmer fudd. I found an old saw, the kind my grandpa worked on, the blade inside that you can put wood on. I got Elmer Fudd on it and sawed him into pieces and there were blood and guts everywhere, yet…he was a cartoon. Had a bad dream hangover from that one.

Dream hangovers are what happen to you when you have the kind of dream that sort of lingers all around you for hours and hours. I think most everyone has had a dream like that. Sometimes it’s quite good, other times it’s downright creepy.

Another time I’ll probably blab on about this…Sometimes ya just gotta write what’s on your mind. Dreams fascinate me. Sometimes I can’t help but wonder, what life is real…waking or experiencing another realm, during sleep. Is it a small doorway into another life, perhaps our parallel universes cross over during that time?