#71: Five Revelations

From the desk of the illustrator: All your dreams are anonymous. But since I have special privileges, I decided to submit these nonanonymously (nonanonanonanon… yeah). As it goes, sometimes the best ideas come to me in dreams. It’s like everything in the universe suddenly comes together. When I wake up… well, you’ll have to judge their validity for yourself. Here are some of them:

  • ‘Red rum’ backwards is ‘murder,’ but ‘rum rum’ backwards is ‘murmur.’
  • There are difficulties with three trains going in different directions.
  • My life is an NBC sitcom, and there’s an ancient pyramid in my basement.
  • In Massachusetts, the bathrooms that have doors leading outside shouldn’t be used because of coyotes.
  • (From 2006) Peter Griffin, Colin Mochrie, and Hillary all run for president in 2008.

At least in that last one, I was one-third right.

#70: “…this absurd four-foot drink with a life sized umbrella…”

Last night I dreamed that I was at a hotel bar for four different dates and I was apparently going to juggle all of them. The first was my boyfriend, a very “Lil Wayne”-looking guy with a bad attitude and drove a Ford Festiva. We got into a fight in the parking lot about money and other girls he was sleeping with (hoes?) and I went inside the hotel without him. I met a real life friend-of-a-friend there who was all dressed up in a sequin jumper to steal my former boyfriend and was planning to get me drunk, ditch me, and have him to herself. She met me at the door with this absurd four-foot drink with a life sized umbrella and acted all chummy. She led me to the bar, but on the way I saw my third date for the evening, my real-life female friend who I glimpsed through the women’s restroom doors. She was inside with a giant paint-roller, painting the walls and crying! She wore a cassette player on her belt and I could faintly make out Fall Out Boy. The friend-of-a-friend acted like it wasn’t a big deal, after all, less obstacles for her to get to my “Lil Wayne” boyfriend.

We were just sitting down when I noticed my real-life boyfriend in the corner of the bar wearing a cast around his leg and eying me. He looked upset. He took me outside to the Ford Festiva, Lil Wayne had since gone missing, and spilled out his true feelings of jealousy about me having a black boyfriend and how he’s probably way better in bed. Only instead of black he kept saying “hyper-African American.” Finally, we got that straightened out and I helped him limp back into the bar, by this time my third date had come out of the bathroom and was in the friend-of-a-friend’s arms crying over something. The latter had one ear bud in her ear and I could see she was starting to tear up, too. I went to the bar and ordered something a bit more reasonable in size, a vodka tonic w/ lime.

#69: “…everyone knew the plan.”

Editor’s note: The following dream is slightly violent, but as we know, it’s difficult to control what we dream. We’ve all probably had dreams where we’ve killed or been killed. This is one of those.

I recently had a dream that was particularly strange in my eyes.
I was at my home with my parents, brother, and my ex. My ex came over because he wanted to “talk” about what we had been through. But he couldn’t stay long. So we were talking and someone knocked me unconscious. I woke up in my bed next to my cell phone. I looked around and my ex was nowhere to be found. So I tried calling him on my cell phone and it was static and wouldn’t dial the numbers. So then I finally got a hold of him and asked why he didn’t say, “goodbye.”
He told me to go over to my grandparents’ house and he would explain everything. So I went over there and there was a group of my friends. They decided that we should go for a walk on my grandparents’ property. We met a group of people that my one friend said she knew. So, she invited them and asked if they could stay for a few days. They were unpacking in the guest bedrooms when I over heard them talking about how the plan was underway. The plan was to kill everyone of us quickly. So they started to drill holes into the walls so they could hear us.
The next morning they pulled us into the basement and locked the door. They said that if any of us were planning to escape that they would kill us. So everyone knew the plan. I had made a hiding doorway when I was a child, in the room the girls were staying in. I had become the leader of trying to get the heck out of there.
We couldn’t just just into one of the cars and leave because they were guarding the cars. So we devised a plan that instead of being assassinated we were gonna be the assassins. And one by one we slowly were making our goal. Then the assassins knew that I was the one in charge of this. I was put into a truck tied up with a caged dog next to me and a guy was driving us to Chicago to do away with me. However, it ended up that I killed him with some kind of rag. I drove back to the house because I had promised to come back for them. Slowly we started killing our captors one by one with out them knowing I was back. Finally, I only had to kill one more girl and we would be free. but she had shocked me and I was immobilized. I was able to kill her with one shot in the back of the head. Everyone left me in the home immobilized after they knew they were free. Then, my ex came up to me and said that they were all in on it. Then he shot me in the temple.

#68: “…my name was there with the exact time I had arrived.”

I arrived late to a party. The DJ was at the front of the room but instead of a dancefloor there was like theater seats and everyone sat down. My friends ignored me at first because I was late. Then when they stopped talking they told me the DJ knew I was going to be late. I looked on the door by the entrance and my name was there with the exact time I had arrived. In the entrance there was a little girl. She was climbing into a wheelchair. She looked fine and then when she sat down she had cerebral palsy.

DJ

The little girl and I got off a bus in a village where in reality I had lived as a child. Her caregiver was there and had a dog. We walked past a cottage and down a lane beside a church. At the bottom of the lane, by a cemetery there was a family playing with their own dog. They were all in pajamas and by their car was a hospital wheelchair. We let the dog play with the other family’s dog and let the little girl out of her chair to play with them. Then I told the caregiver I had to go so I could get up for work.

#67: “…Barack Obama was living in my backyard.”

I dreamt that Barack Obama was living in my backyard. We weren’t supposed to know he was living there; It was just supposed to be something my family accepted and didn’t question. But we would always take pictures of him from inside of our house. He would fend for himself and he’d just always be wandering around in our backyard. One day, I finally decided I wanted to go out and talk to him, so I went outside and said hello and asked him if I could get a picture with him. He said of course and he gave me a hug as the picture was taken 🙂 and the best part of it was… in the dream we were all SUPER impressed because he didn’t complain when he got dog poop on his shoes.

President in the BackyardIllustration by Scott Donaldson.

#66: “…unusually short and a little fat for a snake.”

I had this dream where I was standing on an armchair, in the middle of a room and a pretty scary looking taipan (a snake in Australia) slithered into the room and circled around the chair just constantly. Unlike an actual taipan, this snake was short… like, unusually short and a little fat for a snake. It still had that evil stare however. I wasn’t scared – I actually like snakes – I just watched this thing go up and down and curl around the chair. Weird.

#65: “A number appeared: 28.6.”

I was sitting in a classroom and my best friend walked in. She sat down in a desk, and this scary old lady teacher came in with a large, black instrument. She then proceeded to scan my friend’s forehead, and on the device. A number appeared: 28.6. It was supposed to be her ACT score I think.

  • About DoPYWNM

    Please submit your dreams on the "Submit Your Dreams" page in the comment section. It won't show up, it will just be sent to us. We won't see your e-mail address, and you don't have to include your name. Or, send them to dreamsofpeople@gmail.com.
  • This blog is an experiment. When I wake up, I immediately write down what I've dreamed, as humans lose memory of most of their dreams within the first minutes of alertness. After doing this for a couple of months, I was left with a very interesting compilation. Rather than publish all of these, I decided it would be more interesting to compile those of many people.
  • Any information that you choose to include is your decision. It is not the responsibility of the blog if your friends figure out whose dream it was. The posts will be anonymous whether you wish your name to be included or not. If you are going to send an e-mail, it would help if you entitle it "Dream". The blog may add links within the text of your e-mail to help people visualize, especially if there is an obscure reference. Scott Donaldson will illustrate select dreams.
  • Tell all your friends! The more people we get in on the experiment, the cooler it will turn out. Once again, submit on the "Submit Your Dreams" page, or the e-mail address to send your dreams to is dreamsofpeople@gmail.com, or you may submit them on the "Submit Your Dreams" page.
  • -T.J.
  • Submit Your Dreams

    Submit them in the comments section of the "Submit Your Dreams" page. Don't worry, we can't see your e-mail address, and you don't have to leave your name. Or, e-mail dreams to dreamsofpeople@gmail.com