Dreams are Weird.
What is it about our dreams that makes us remember them? Why do we dream about some things but not others? Do our dreams have meaning? When I was twelve I read a book about interpreting dreams. It listed all kinds of things and told how they could symbolize different things, and what they could symbolize. I can’t remember anything from it now, but it was interesting.
But was any of it true? I don’t have a clue. I just know that dreams are weird.
For example, the other night I had a dream that I was killing zombies with swords. It was kinda gruesome and weird, because I usually don’t dream stuff like that. That would be my husband, who regularly dreams he’s a video game character killing stuff. So when he dies in his dreams, he just comes back to life.
Of course, that same night he dreamed that I’d left him. That usually would have been my shtick.
This morning I dreamed I was running/jumping/flying across town back in Arkansas. I think I was being chased by something, but I was having too much fun to care much. I also had a sentient glove that was helping me fly, so in reality I was being dragged all over town by my flying glove. Which then it proceeded to infect my body rather than being parted with me, so in the end I became a cyborg. And that dream was strangely comforting.
The flying/being chased thing–yeah, typical me dream. The cyborg? All Michael.
I think I’ve been around him too much. We’re switching dreams.
Maybe that’s what my dreams have been trying to tell me–that Michael’s turning me into a cyborg. Or a zombie.
Living with the Pun Master 