Tell me your dreams

Thing is I really have no idea where my brain gets those places from. I know I´ve never been there, and I´ve never seen them either. Now if one day I see a movie or a picture that depicts one of those settings, I´m ready to finally believe not only in the collective subconcious but also into an actual (meta)physically existing Dreamland place.

Wouldn´t that be awesome?

Or maybe I´ve just been reading too much Lovecraft and Gaiman´s Sandman…

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I find that interesting too. If I dream about a place I supposedly know (like my aunt’s house or something), it never, ever looks like the real place but like somewhere I’ve never been before. During the time it’s familiar to the dream me, but when I wake up and remember it, it’s not. If that makes sense.

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Maybe it’s “Future Kate” that is familiar with the place, but not the present day you. :face_with_raised_eyebrow:

Ooh, maybe. Actually, some things in that dream of my aunt do point to it being a later part of my life.

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Oh yeah, absolutly! In a dream my grandparents live in a place that I have never been to but it totally feels like the right place until I wake up and go…wait a minute…that´s not right!

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Back to high school. It was quite some time that I didn’t have that dream.

We had a new Italian literature teacher, as our usual teacher retired. Male, around 45, slim. He didn’t seem to like me. Probably because I’m a 33 y.o. man bored by high school lessons. Suddenly, a teacher from another class comes by and asks if I can exit the classroom. Our teacher is suspicious and asks why, the lady says “Emilia”, but he’s not convinced, so she makes a gesture imitating pointy glasses. I understand she’s referring to my English teacher (despite the fact that her name’s Paola, not Emilia) because no one else had similar glasses. He concedes that I exit, so I do.

The teacher says that “Emilia” wanted me to have a book, so she escorts me to the library. The library is on the lowest floor, which is all tiled with tiles that make it look more like a spa than a library. In fact, there’s even people with flip-flops inside, and the floor is wet. And a turnstile. The teacher passes her badge and I can enter. I look around, there’s a fountain with water lilies and other plants, and I can see a swimming pool behind a glass. The teacher gives me an enormous book, it’s a book on painting techniques and art history. I’m puzzled. The teacher explains that they knew my marks in art history were awful, so they wanted me to study a bit and also become a better artist. I’m offended, I say that art has never been my thing, that I spent years studying computer science and I became good in what I wanted to do, I don’t see why I should start anew in a completely different field only because others couldn’t accept that I had other interests*.

Then, I don’t remember the exact order of events, but I remember clearly that I was in our gym, outside it was raining heavily, and I had to go to the dressing room because I had to pee. The dressing room looked exactly like the “library”. However, there was no bathroom. There was only a small metal drawer in the wall, like those retractable ashtrays you find in trains. And… well, I take out my best friend, put it there and tried to pee. Suddenly, an alarm rings. I begin to panic. I put it back and exit the changing room. I see a girl, who actually went to high school with me but one grade less, she runs away. I run too, the alarm rings again. I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m anxious and I run as fast as I can, I try to follow that girl because she seems to know how to escape, there are a lot of corridors. She exits from a door that luckily has a crash bar (new term learned today) because I’m too panicked to stop and try to open it. I push the bar and keep on running. The girl is there again, but this time she stops and watches me. She looks scared. She just says “behind you!”, then runs again. I turn around, I see nothing, and this scares me even more. Another alarm ringing. I run again. I see her in the distance, I follow her again. Another crash bar door. Another alarm. I scream.

A punch wakes me up. I was screaming in real life, and my wife wanted me to stop.

*This is something that actually happened. I’ve never liked art history, while I liked art, I never liked the way art history was taught us, so I just refused to study it. I always did the bare minimum not to fail the year, and that might have given me a bad name to my art teacher. When, three years after my diploma, I went back to high school one day to greet my old teachers, as I was chatting with my Italian literature teacher, telling her that I was about to take my bachelor degree with expected maximum grade cum laude, the art teacher entered the discussion with a sentence that… well, I don’t even know if it wanted to be a compliment. She literally said “who would have thought that a person like you would have nailed it at the university”. I was baffled.

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I know I should be looking at these with a mature, critical eye, but

:rofl:

This is such a common theme. I guess it’s because our formative years took place there, and it’s where most of us probably felt the most unsure about ourselves. Yours sounded like it got quite dramatic. I hope you don’t have a bruise now.

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I usually dream that I have like to attend another year to make my diploma official, or there’s a new exam I forgot to take, in all cases I know it should have been over but no, I still have to do something more and I’m surprised, like “how comes I didn’t know it after all this years?”. This time that feeling wasn’t there.

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Yeah, I usually feel like it’s a nightmarish situation where I have to do an exam I’m no good at, or get to a class I’m really late for. I guess it manifests as a stress dream in those cases.

It’s interesting it was a different feeling for you this time.

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Just writing this down before I forget:

My dream included former co students and friends, the gathering for a publlic screening of I guess a super important football game and the place was a gigantic castle like structure that included many courtyards, theaters, a chapel, a dungeon and various other places inside and outside. The structure itself looked greenish and was actually a lot like Castle Greyskull in colour and shape in general, but I never get the chance to see the whole thing from a distance.

There was a lot of running around, talking and sitting down with different people and trying to watch that game which never really happened though.

Maybe I recall a few more details later.

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My mum just told me about a dream she had.

‘’ 'Ere Kate! I had a very weird dream last night. I was on a date… with Donald Trump!"

Apparently they were standing at the top of a very large building, and she didn’t know how to get down. She was like, ‘I can’t just jump down there,’ and Trump explained that she should hang over the edge and drop down.

Then she was looking for her boat because she was going on a cruise, but she didn’t know where the river was. Old Trump wasn’t much help and she was panicking. ‘I just need to know where the river is! Where’s the river?’

Then (and this bit made me laugh the most) in her frustration she started shouting ‘IT’S A FRIGATE! IT’S A FRIGATE!’

Then she woke up.

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I had to take the first grade again tonight.
Well, our entire last year class was there- all as adults. Interesting, as we all realised the absurdity but still showed up.

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Do you still have contact to them (all) or has your brain/dream created adult versions of them?

So she punched you?!
:joy:

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This part gets the "DUH! of the Year" award! :trophy: :clap:

Also tagging @David because he certainly will enjoy this.

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I’ve seen most of them at a 10-year reunion.
They looked more like their younger versions though.

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No one invited me then, and I think I was the only one. :cry: Fuck 'em!

Yes she did :stuck_out_tongue: the punch was in real life, not in the dream.

It was high school again today, with a hint of current job. My Italian literature teacher was sitting at some kind of reception desk, and scolded me because I was late. I entered my classroom, it was English hour, and we had to write down what we heard from a recording. The sentence was “the dog is pretty busched”, and I wondered what “busched” meant. It rhymes with “tusk” anyway, as it was the last word of the next sentence.
I don’t remember more, sorry.

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Today’s dream was nice.

There was a bug in TWP. A cutscene did not start if you were replaying the game a second time, and I wanted to investigate the problem. However, I had to do it in real life, as the cutscene was triggered by sliding down a chute located in my university building.

But I’m from my phone now, and I hate writing from the phone. So I hope I can remember everything tomorrow, there’s a lot to say. Hiding in the university building trying to make my daughters pee in a messy bathroom, a pub whose sign was Ron’s pixel art avatar, the space armadillo that killed my cousin and the space Ford Ka, the naked people pyramid, working for Ron.

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