A Window Into My Dreams

(Not those dreams though.  To hear about them, I recommend you start by buying me a drink first.)

From time to time I end up trying to explain to people my dreaming habits, in the sense that I often dream in complete stories, complete with several acts. (Which is one of the reasons I detest being woken up early; it might make me miss the final reel of the movie.)  I’m told this is unusual, but as there are so few studies on things like this, I have to wonder what the basis of comparison is supposed to be. 

Regardless, dreams being what they are, it’s difficult to find something I can articulate to the skeptics to explain what I mean, but last night’s dream just happened to provide an example.  (Please note that I’m not claiming what follows has any literary merit; it’s just an unusually clear to others phrase from my dream.):

“To deal with the stress of the death of his sister, he became a secret practical joker . . . and a not so secret drinker.”

I never did find out how his sister died though. 

Ah well . . . there’s always tonight’s dreams . . .


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