Dreaming

I remember my dreams.

Depending on who you are this is either interesting or irritating.

I know some people cringe and want to punch the person who starts out "I had the weirdest dream last night." while other people will get excited and want to know all about it.  I'm the latter.  I know some people don't remember their dreams unless they are extreme, and that seems weird to me.  Remembering my dreams has always been a part of who I am and I can't quite understand how people don't remember them.  Scott only remembers his nightmares and I think that sucks.

One of my earliest memories, if not my actual first memory, is waking up from a dream.  It was mostly colors and shapes - oranges and yellows and lots of circles.  I remember feeling confined and thinking I was curled up in one of the circles, sort of like a chick still inside of an egg.  When I woke up I was confused because I knew what I had just experienced wasn't real.  I vividly remember making the connection and understanding what a dream was.  I must have been around 3 or 4 years old and this new knowledge was amazing to me.  I had heard about dreams before but now I understood the meaning.  Of course the idea was formed with the mind of a toddler and wasn't an epic moment in humanity, but for me it was important and incredibly cool.  For some reason I always relate it to Sesame Street.  I think I had seen something about shapes and for whatever reason the dream and the show are tied together.

I have reoccurring dreams. (Does anyone not have reoccurring dreams?)  I find these are rarely fun and pleasant, which is a total rip off.  Why doesn't my dreaming brain want to re-dream moments of pure bliss?  Why does it want to revisit moments of panic and anxiety?

The past few nights I've gone back to The Car With Bad Breaks.  I hate this dream because I never realize it's a dream.  Sometimes when I'm dreaming a quiet part of my brain will realize that it is a dream and go along with the absurdity.  Other times my brain decides that this is for real happening and holy shit.  Those are the dreams that hang out for part of the day and make me feel icky.  I know it was just a dream but the emotions insist on staying put.  This in turn makes me more irritated because I'm feeling emotions that aren't logical and fuck that.

So, The Car With Bad Breaks.  Pretty simple.  I'm driving a car and the breaks work, but not well.  I get to a stop sign or a red light and I have to stamp on the breaks as hard as I can but I don't stop.  I slow down and wind up in the middle of the intersection and then have to decide if I want to speed the rest of the way through or back up.  I usually hit the gas and fly through, hoping there isn't a cop around.  If I decide to back up I will often get out of the car and push it backwards.

 I never panic.  I know that I'm not going to hit anything or get into a car accident.  There are either no cars around or traffic has stopped, waiting for me to stop and then get out of the way.  No one gets irritated with me either, unless they are a passenger.

Once I hit the first intersection or whatever, I begin The Loop.  For some reason it will be important that I stop in the correct place.  Maybe I'm trying to pump gas or pick someone up at a specific spot on the sidewalk or go through a drive-thru.  I have to stop at just the right place, but I miss it.  I have to circle around and try again.  I'll start hitting the breaks sooner in the hopes that I'll finally make the landing in the right place, but it rarely happens.

It's frustrating as hell.

I can feel myself really stamping on the breaks, pushing down with as much force as possible.  I feel my thighs getting tight as I hope that I won't feel the softness of the breaks not working.  As soon as I feel it though I know I'm going to have to keep driving and try to land in the right place.

I start to recognize the street.  This is where I turn left.  This is where the jogger shows up.  Here's the big yellow house.

Other times I begin the loop and skip all that and head right back to stamping on the breaks again.

When I wake up I'm relieved that it was just a dream, I feel tense and frustrated and irritated that the dream's emotions are still there and I'm pissed that I've dreamed the dream again.

Long before this sentence, the people who are fascinated by dreams have torn this apart.  What does this mean about my life and current situation?  Why do I feel safe even though I know I can't stop quickly?  Why do I have to keep trying again and again?  Why do I keep failing?  Why do I have this dream for several nights in a row?

Typing it up or turning it over in my head makes me roll my eyes at the symbolism, or the symbolism that I'm insisting is there.  This is the moment that makes the people who don't care about dreams want to punch me in the head.  Of course I can read into what this dream means.  Of course I can find a connection between it and my real awake life.  Of course I think it means something.  Of course I'm not going to shut up about it and act like it's really important.

Of course I'm going to dream it again and wake up all pissed and then stay pissed because I should be pissed about a stupid dream.

I wonder what will happen if the breaks work one night?