Dale recently posted about a dream he had, and it got me thinking about my own freak dreams. The most disturbing aspect of Dale's dream, far as I could tell, was a hideous man damaging some DVD packaging. No spiders, no snakes, no unspeakable evil presence bursting through a closed door with a horrible roaring sound that's somewhere between the Exorcist and the Evil Dead.
MizBubs tells me I have far fewer nightmares than I used to. I used to have a pretty wide variety of horrible dreams; fortunately nowadays most of my bad dreams fall into standard cop categories: trying to shoot someone and the gun won't work, chasing someone and can't catch up, etc. From what I"m told I wake pretty violently at times, and I can sit up and move around quite a bit while still asleep, so I've never kept a firearm anywhere within reach of where I sleep.
I still have some bad dreams about f*cking up crime scenes that I'm responsible for, watching evidence get destroyed, but those don't come very often. Another (thank God, infrequent) dream is one where I commit a crime like a bank robbery or a murder and at the moment I'm pulling the trigger or taking the money I am fully aware that I've essentially thrown my life away in that moment.
On the good side, I have some nice dreams about taking road trips and then finding out that I'm really much closer to places I've always wanted to go than I thought I'd be--like, in the dream I'm driving to downstate Illinois to go camping and I suddenly discover that in another 2 or 3 hours I can be in Las Vegas, stuff like that. And at least once or twice a month my dad shows up in my dreams and I get to talk with him, and that's always good. I'd like more visits from my old dogs, though, I wish I could find a way to will that into my dreams.
I'm not even going to talk about sex. No. All I can say is, thank God those are some real good dreams.
Let's listen to some Roy Orbison.