Dreams again
Tuesday, 23 February 2016 08:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
carose59"Of Course Not. It's The Boars. They're Simply Pining For You To Hunt Them. Did They Send A Delegation For You?"*
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Had an odd dream the other night. (Is there such a thing as a dream that isn't odd? Have you ever awakened and thought, "Well, that was perfectly ordinary, a quite reasonable story told in chronological order."?)
Anyway, I was at Robert Downey Jr.'s apartment in New York (I have no idea if he even really has one). It was very large and had a beautiful view. He was having sort of a party—a bunch of people over, anyway, and for some reason he and I were sitting in a cluttered corner, going through his vinyl collection to decide what he wanted to convert to CD. He also had this odd machine he'd made—it was two robot hands and arms, and they'd pull the albums off the shelves and remove them from the covers. I don't know how much help it really was, but I remember saying something like, "Why didn't we have this years ago, it would have mad things so much easier."
We were listening to the other people, the ones partying, and making comments about what they were saying. Then I suddenly realized that we didn't really know each other, and I probably shouldn't even be there, let alone in this strangely intimate setting, and I started to explain that the reason I was talking to him was that nobody else seemed to know what I was talking about.
Then the police showed up to arrest him. Only they didn't take him anywhere, they just stayed and had drinks. They were arresting him for carrying a gun (which is apparently illegal in my dreams, even if it isn't anywhere else) and he kept laughing about it. He'd take a gun out of his jacket pocket and say, "They can't convict me of carrying a gun because this isn't my gun. This is my other gun." Then he'd pick up a different gun and say, "This is my gun." In the dream it was very funny.
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Something strange started happening to my dreams after Pat died. I now start dreaming before I go to sleep. I don't really know how else to describe it, except that I'm lying in bed, having a dream, but I'm not asleep yet. I don't have any more control over them than I do my sleeping dreams, except that if something is bothering me in one of them, I can open my eyes and make it stop.
*Princess Flavia
-:- -:- -:- -:-
Had an odd dream the other night. (Is there such a thing as a dream that isn't odd? Have you ever awakened and thought, "Well, that was perfectly ordinary, a quite reasonable story told in chronological order."?)
Anyway, I was at Robert Downey Jr.'s apartment in New York (I have no idea if he even really has one). It was very large and had a beautiful view. He was having sort of a party—a bunch of people over, anyway, and for some reason he and I were sitting in a cluttered corner, going through his vinyl collection to decide what he wanted to convert to CD. He also had this odd machine he'd made—it was two robot hands and arms, and they'd pull the albums off the shelves and remove them from the covers. I don't know how much help it really was, but I remember saying something like, "Why didn't we have this years ago, it would have mad things so much easier."
We were listening to the other people, the ones partying, and making comments about what they were saying. Then I suddenly realized that we didn't really know each other, and I probably shouldn't even be there, let alone in this strangely intimate setting, and I started to explain that the reason I was talking to him was that nobody else seemed to know what I was talking about.
Then the police showed up to arrest him. Only they didn't take him anywhere, they just stayed and had drinks. They were arresting him for carrying a gun (which is apparently illegal in my dreams, even if it isn't anywhere else) and he kept laughing about it. He'd take a gun out of his jacket pocket and say, "They can't convict me of carrying a gun because this isn't my gun. This is my other gun." Then he'd pick up a different gun and say, "This is my gun." In the dream it was very funny.
-:- -:- -:- -:-
Something strange started happening to my dreams after Pat died. I now start dreaming before I go to sleep. I don't really know how else to describe it, except that I'm lying in bed, having a dream, but I'm not asleep yet. I don't have any more control over them than I do my sleeping dreams, except that if something is bothering me in one of them, I can open my eyes and make it stop.
*Princess Flavia