Share with us the dream you had last night.

fuzzybuddy said:
When I wake up in the morning, I have absolutely no recall of what I dreamed. I go to sleep, and then it's morning. Outside of a couple of trips to the john, I got nothing. I used to dream a lot, and I know I must be dreaming. I used to wake up and remember adream for a few seconds, then it was gone. Now, don't even have that. ?????????
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my soon2BX is the same.. he closes his eyes and the next thing he knows it's morning...the only time that's ever happened to me is when I'm under aneasthetic..
 

Last night's dream: I'm walking along a rural road with my belongings in a rucksack on my back. I meet another man also walking with a rucksack and I ask him is he properly equipped for camping outdoors and he says he doesn't have enough water in his canteen.
Now there is a house adjacent to the rural road......I know that the occupants are absent, I know that I'm very familiar with this house.....I've been there before, I know that the occupants are amiable friends of mine and it's OK for me to take some liberties on their property.
So I tell the man I can help with his water shortage problem.
Now I'm in the house, knowing exactly where to go and what to do and I'm filling a jug of water from the tap and carrying it out to the road for the man.
The dream abruptly switches to a whole different scenario: The man and I are in the same house but we're in evening dress and sitting at a formally arranged dinner table with the house owners and some very posh guests......think European aristocrats, probably titled, Count and Countess something or other, and the man from the road and I are asked to introduce ourselves, which I do, and our hosts translate my words into German, or maybe it's Czech or Hungarian.......I don't really know, but the guests are completely charming and friendly and interested in me.
The atmosphere and social tone at this formal table in the pretty luxurious dining room with the posh people is utterly amiable and I'm very comfortable there..........where in real life, I very well might not be quite so composed.
I wake up.
 
I’m helping an 11-year-old boy to adjust the microphone height on an a basic sort of stage, as if in an old school gymnasium somewhere. He’s going to play “Stardust” on his violin. I introduce the tune, mentioning to an audience that it'll be the timeless favorite composed by Hoagy Carmichael. The boy plays his tune nicely & gets an encouraging audience response.

After that, I’m off the stage & a guy I recognize as a one-time tree planter (reforestation worker) comes over and tells me that actually he wrote the tune while playing around on his guitar. I tell him that dreamy old song was definitely written, with lyrics too, by Hoagy Carmichael back in the 1920s, and has been well known ever since. But he’s not to be convinced.

The dream scene shifts into a studio — unfinished plywood wall paneling, 2x4-frame tables, etc. Seems like a converted medium-scale barn that’s now used as some sort of creative space. A ‘discovered tape’ of Janis Joplin is playing very audibly through substantial speakers. She’s singing fervently sometimes, but also laughing or cackling intermittently, sounding out of her mind and maybe a bit lost, almost skittering on the edge of panic.

I'm at one far end of the studio, and a wall telephone (old-style, like 35 years ago) rings nearby where I'm standing. As no one else is approaching to answer, I pick up the receiver & say hello. A woman tells me she’s with the Burlington Art Gallery, calling for Pamela Ainsley. Pamela is a potter and fired-clay sculptor I know (in real life), and I tell the caller she has reached the wrong number. I say that the correct number is 236-7329. Then I say I’ll look up the number to confirm it, but I don't have an online device and can’t find a phone book — so I just insist that I’m confident. (I wake up)


[I realize after I woke up and thought about it, in actuality that phone number wasn't correct.]
 

Medusa said:
Holy cows! LOL Machine guns!

How do you guys have guns in the UK? (Forgive my ignorance on this subject).
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oh we can have guns as long as we have licences for them which are given by the police. We get to use the guns for Range shooting or shooting gme in the woods or the famers land


...but please don't believe that criminals don't have guns here.. they certainly do... and not a week goes past when someone isn't shot and killed.. I know that doesn't compare to the US where killings are endemic .. but it's become a real concern for us now where we never up until maybe 20 years ago ever heard of anyone outside of gangsters being shot
 
hollydolly said:
oh we can have guns as long as we have licences for them which are given by the police. We get to use the guns for Range shooting or shooting gme in the woods or the famers land


...but please don't believe that criminals don't have guns here.. they certainly do... and not a week goes past when someone isn't shot and killed.. I know that doesn't compare to the US where killings are endemic .. but it's become a real concern for us now where we never up until maybe 20 years ago ever heard of anyone outside of gangsters being shot
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So it's that guns are more accessible here, not that they are not at all so there.
 
Does anyone else remember specific dreams from weeks or even years prior?

I have a few that have stuck with me. One from decades ago when husband and I were first married. I dreamt he was trying to kill me, don't remember how, and then dreamt that I woke up and told him about the dream whereupon he tried to stab me in the forehead with a pencil. Then I woke up for real.

That was, probably, 34 years ago and I never forgot it. --For the record, my husband is the nicest, most mellow, gentle person. Dreams are strange.
 
JBR said:
I've written a few down if I could remember them in enough detail after waking. And also I suppose, if they had seemed unusual in some way.
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I've done that too, but I end up losing the thing or forgetting the digital space I recorded them in.
 
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Medusa, I'm not aware of what digital device you generally use. I use an Apple (Mac) laptop, and with it I can create files to keep documents, photos, or other files in. I give the file a name, and I can search for that name when I want to revisit particular files.

I have one called Dreams. And, for instance, I've deposited in it my memory of the dream I posted about on this thread. For me, it's a simple matter of copying and pasting what I wrote into a Mac document that I then keep in the file.
 
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JBR said:
Medusa, I'm not aware of what digital device you general use. I use an Apple (Mac) laptop, and with it I can create files to keep documents, photos, or other files in. I give the file a name, and I can search for that name when I want to revisit particular files.

I have one called Dreams. And, for instance, I've deposited in it my memory of the dream I posted about on this thread. For me, it's a simple matter of copying and pasting what I wrote into a Mac document that I then keep in the file.
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Coincidental that you should mention as I've just used my phone to record a dream this morning. :)
I woke and spoke it into the phone's voice recorder as I was too fuzzy to type.

I had a file on my phone... somewhere... years ago, but "misplaced" it. If I was using a Google app, it will still be there somewhere and I could probably find it with some effort.

I like the voice recorder for dream journaling because I can just sort of, "stream of consciousness" into it and then either transcribe or play it back for the voice typing feature on Docs.

Though, if I had used the voice typing feature to begin with I'd cut out a step.

Thanks for the info. :)
 
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This morning, I dreamt that I was walking around the grounds of a college where I was going to school.

This guy came up to me and grabbed my hand and he had this device on his hand and arm that sent electrical pulses through both our arms and fingers.

We walked around holding hands with these little pulses happening between us.

We went into a room and down some stairs where there was a blue donkey laying down and that was the school's mascot.

He asked me if I had enjoyed the experience of the electrical pulses were both feeling and if it was better than my sexual experiences and I said, “A few of them, yes.”

Then he asked me to smile and took my picture for the school paper. I became panicked and started asking him to please not put me in the paper and asked him if he knew who my boyfriend was.

My boyfriend was the owner or manager or something, some important person on the school's soccer team, but not the coach though he called himself “coach.”

I asked this guy if he knew who my boyfriend was and he said that he did and did I know that he calls himself the coach when he isn't.

I said I did, but asked him again to please not put my picture in the paper for the story about this device or that we used this device together because it would really upset my boyfriend.

He said that he wouldn't, but then asked me to smile for the paper again took another picture.

I started to panic, but then woke up.


I remembered, while transcribing the above, that right before this dream I had a dream that involved me watching someone perform an autopsy because I didn’t trust them to do it properly for some reason.

When they were finished, in a very short time, I complained to them that they hadn’t even weighed the organs and, “Everybody knows you have to weigh the organs.”
 
Oh, I had a real doozy last night.

In my dream, my late sister and I along with a bunch of children were sitting in a restaurant overlooking a scenic bay. She was entertaining the children and I was looking at the water through a window. All of a sudden, I saw people running down to the water's edge, acting very excited and I noticed that a huge pod of Orcas had swum into the bay. The Orcas were all lined up in a row and were doing the kind of out-of-the-water-stand-on-their-tails that trained dolphins do in shows. They were performing some kind of choreographed performance.

I kept yelling at my sister to come over to the window, but she apparently couldn't hear me. By the time she heard me and got to the window, the Orcas had finished their show and had swum away again. She was very mad at me.

Then I woke up and apologized to her because she would have been mad at me and, for all that I know, she can see my dreams from heaven where I'm positive she is currently residing.
 
I used to dream about driving my old Volkswagen and not being able to use the break pedal. I was usually on a cliff going into water. I just couldn't get my foot to move to the break pedal. I had it many times. I tried to dream it until it went into the water but I couldn't make that happen. I do not have it anymore, the dream or the Volkswagen.
 
Rae said:
I used to dream about driving my old Volkswagen and not being able to use the break pedal. I was usually on a cliff going into water. I just couldn't get my foot to move to the break pedal. I had it many times. I tried to dream it until it went into the water but I couldn't make that happen. I do not have it anymore, the dream or the Volkswagen.
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A dramatic "can't control the situation" dream. Was there anything important in your waking life at the time that seemed out of control?
 
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JBR said:
A dramatic "can't control the situation" dream. Wash there anything important in your waking life at the time that seemed out of control?
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It could have been. The Volkswagen was a used one and sometimes it didn't run as well as it should. In snow with freezing up window, I had to roll down the window to see out the windshield. I had to park it on an incline to get it started at one time. I guess that might be the reason.
 
Last night I had several dreams, but the one I remember was about shopping at CVS (pharmacy and general store chain) with my daughter and son in long, shift-type dresses.

I was looking for yarn of a specific color pattern and a boot/brace thing for my friend from years ago. (We were Girl Scout troop leaders together when the girls were little).

The funny thing was that my friend actually asked me if I could steal the boot/brace for her. I gestured to my long, thin, sleeveless dress and explained the obvious, which was that I had nowhere to put a stolen item.

I remember being relieved about that in my dream, that I had a ready reason not to steal because I didn’t want to.

I didn’t find the yarn I wanted.
 

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