Tell me your dreams

Off-topic
838

Aww :slightly_frowning_face: that’s so sad that I won’t log that one. I hope you can replace that with a nicer one soon.

Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s easy to forget the good things and cling on to the bad. But as the tea lady says, we all clearly love chatting to you and that’s a testament to the person you are - you’re making a positive difference here :slightly_smiling_face:

That may work with things like trauma, but when it comes to anxiety, confidence and things like that I think it depends how your brain is wired. Mine is very often cup-half-empty. I’m learning to be more positive, but I’ve needed a lot of help with that.

I’m only just starting to remember the good things from a holiday to Krakow where we had an outrageous experience being bumped off the flight home. That was two years ago!

That’s such a perfect analogy *grammar-gasm*

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839

:grin: :coffee:
(yes that’s a coffee emoji, but the tea one looks like soup!)

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840

image

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841

Of course it depends on how negative these things are/were. There are negative things that you can’t forget and that will stay negative. But overall the human brains tend to forget negative things - especially when the time goes by.

My English isn’t good enough to write down what I would like to answer to this - but seeing cups half-empty isn’t negative per se. If you know your “flaws” or “weakness” you can turn these negative things into positive things.

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842

Well actually it´s true. It wasn´t a holiday but a school trip. Going to Strasbourg and having an old Chateau as a youth hostel is one of the greatest trips I remember in my life. Still on the downside, my allergy was really terrible at the time and one of our class mates (a vietnamese boy) got beaten up and kicked lying on the street until he was black and blue by some racist youth gang.

I also think the memory of the fun of getting drunk on cheap french wine in the evening is also more preserved than the hangover the next day.

English isn´t my first language either, but I probably could count on one hand the people speaking german in my life who have understood me as well as Kate does. I think it´s quite remarkable and I still have no idea how that could happen.

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843

Well, but your English is far better than mine. :slight_smile:

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844

Actually that’s kind of a fair point. Seeing or expecting the worst in things is just my way of trying to protect myself. Which isn’t negative per se, as you say. oh I say se say.

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845

That is what I do, too. And unfortunatly I am almost always right. And because of that, as it turns out that attitude made me even f-up things to that weren´t so bad.

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846

Yeah, that’s the problem. And sometimes even if something goes well I’m still exhausted and emotional afterwards, because I’ve built up so much negative pressure that even the surprise good outcome isn’t enough to douse it.

I find it helps to set up little things that are unlikely to go wrong (I mean really little things, like cooking a nice dinner or watching a film you know you’ll enjoy) and gradually build from there.

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847

Can you give an example? (That’s not too private, resp. that you feel comfortable to share with us.)

848

I find funny how watching movies in bed influences my dreams. It was never like that, but now it’s happened again. I watched Paycheck, and I dreamed I was some sort of industrial espionage expert. I was given a mission by some Chinese businessmen, and I don’t remember why, but I had to meet my wife’s 8yo cousin. It was of vital importance that our meeting looked casual and not arranged, most importantly as if we didn’t know each other, so the plan was that she would fake a car accident and we’d stop to help.

So I’m driving with my wife, following a white Volkswagen driven by a 8yo girl with her mother on the passenger’s seat along a country road. The car then swerves and falls into the ditch on the side, but from the other direction a red car arrives and I know it’s our competitors, they were onto us and want to ruin our meeting. I stop nevertheless and begin our pantomime, asking whether they are fine, if they need an ambulance, stuff like that. The red car stops and two men exit, one of them comes to “help”, but the other one nonchalantly detours and goes to my car. I go back to my car and find him trying to break the window deflector (I don’t even know how they’re called in Italian, I could just find them on google images looking for “car window shield”).

I get angry, and he threatens me… with his fingers in the shape of a gun. I laugh, and say “what the hell is that supposed to do? scare me?”, he gets angry and walks fast to his car, where I suppose he has a gun. We’re suddenly on a town square, not in the country anymore. I shout “go on, take your gun, I’m sure your boss will be very happy to know you put on a mess for something that from the outside looks just like a normal car accident”. I don’t remember why and how, but not only my objection made him stop, but his boss was there, and he was angry with him, because he agreed with me: his minion was going to ruin the whole operation with his temper.

So I’m now in enemy territory, the big boss is there and he’s walking in my direction.
And he’s dressed like *beep*ing LeChuck.

And I’m dressed like Guybrush in MI2. He approaches me, smiles with that kind of smile you give an enemy you respect, and gives me a trumpet. “Play”, he says. I decline. “Do you remember what happened in MI2?”, I say as an excuse. When awake, I understood that I was referring to Guybrush’s first spit in the spitting contest, but in my dream he drooled through a trumpet, so it made perfect sense. He doesn’t say anything, so I suppose I have to play.

I blow into the trumpet, and I only get some kind of musical fart. LeChuck seems amused by my incompetence. I try again, pressing the valve buttons and moving the tune slide, but I have no idea how a trumpet works, so I sometimes get a different pitch, but nothing more. After a couple of tries I give up and begin singing in the trumpet like it was a kazoo. That’s when the dream ends :frowning:

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849

Well, it’s worth a try! :rofl:
I wish I had dreams involving things from videogames I’ve played. Or just anything exciting, really.

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850

In one of the most terrifying dreams I’ve ever had I was being chased by a garbage bag. It hopped around like a tentacle, but this was before I’d played that game.

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851

I’ve run out of likes. * like *
I find the concept of that dream funny, but I can imagine how it could be scary.

852

I have a question for you all. What is the first dream you remember? I mean, the dream you had the longest ago.

I was a child, probably 5 or 6, and I remember I was Donald Duck, my childhood friend was Scrooge. And we found a sign that read “Don’t buy houses that can’t be sold”.

Well, that’s not much detail, but these details really stuck. I was very pleased by being Donald Duck.

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853

As in, that’s a dream you had when you were five or six? And you remember that?

I’m not sure I remember any dreams that far back. Maybe if something significant was attached to one of them.

I remember some sleepwalking episodes, but not dreams, heh.

854

At first it’s curious. Huh, there’s this weird blotch in this picture of a forest on my wall. You try to rub it off, but it won’t budge. Then you look at it a little closer and you realize that it might be something. You grab a magnifying glass and take a closer look. There’s a garbage bag in your forest picture. Guess I never noticed it before.

You go to sleep and forget about it. The next day, you could swear the garbage bag is a little closer to you in the picture. Probably just a figment of your imagination. The third day after you noticed it you know it’s closer. You can now properly make out the garbage bag without a magnifying glass. It’s no longer the size of a pinhead, but of a small insect.

You’re not really worried, but over the next few weeks the garbage bag keeps getting closer and closer. Slightly unsettled, you decide to throw out the picture.

The next day, cycling back home through the forest, there’s a garbage bag sitting next to a garbage bin. You glance at it suspiciously, oddly sure it’s that bag. You dismiss the thought from your mind, but when you glance back it’s no longer sitting next to the garbage bin. It’s next to a tree much closer to you. You cycle home at top speed, arriving in a sweat.

You avoid the forest for a few days, taking the longer way around. You haven’t seen the garbage bag for a while, so you reckon you’re safe. But a blotch appears on your tiger poster. Mere hours later, the garbage bag is clearly visible.

Distressed, you steal some matches out of the kitchen drawer — this might be a good point to mention I had this dream when I was 7-8 y/o. You burn your favorite poster.

That night, for some reason your parents aren’t at home. In fact you don’t recall seeing them earlier in the day either. You start to get pretty worried.

The window is open. You hear a slightly sticky, crinkly noise. Slomp, crinkle, slomp, crinkle. You look outside. The garbage bag is approaching on the driveway. You close the window and turn off the lights.

Someone — or something, who are we kidding — starts banging loudly on the door. As you don’t answer, the bangs start getting ever louder. The door creaks, splinters start springing off.

Minutes later, though it feels like seconds, the door breaks down. The garbage bag slowly sloshes on. You run up the stairs. The garbage bag starts to follow. Slop. Slosh. Slop. Slosh. The stairs don’t seem to end. What happened to the second floor?

You can easily stay away from the garbage bag though. You’re not really worried. Not anymore. Slop, slosh. Slop, slosh. Though, you realize you’re starting to get pretty tired. The garbage bag doesn’t seem to. Slop, slosh. Slop, slosh. (x100)

Hours of climbing stairs later, you collapse. The garbage bag is still coming. Slop, slosh. The sound stops. The stairway is shrinking, turning into black garbage bag plastic. You’re trapped inside. You try to walk, but — slop, slosh. Slop, slosh.

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855

When I was about 5 or 6, my brother and I used to have the same dream. My grandfather would come visit us about once a year, and in the days leading up to that we would have this recurring nightmare. He had these red scary eyes and would be searching the house for us. We would try to hide under the covers but he had x-ray vision and could still see us! It was really scary.

I don’t know why though, my grandfather was really nice in real life!

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856

…and then the Doctor shows up just in time and you both fly away in the Tardis, right?

Seriously, this dream would make a great episode of something.

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857

Oh yes I do!