What did you dream? Tell it in five sentences or fewer.

Terrible nightmare woke me last night and still disturbs me. My brother was a sadistic psychopath who was sharpening pencils that he was going to shove through my lips and keep my mouth open" to tell the truth" before he killed me because i wouldnt do something he wanted. He was so viscious, its hard to shake it off...

Niam1985 said:

Terrible nightmare woke me last night and still disturbs me. My brother was a sadistic psychopath who was sharpening pencils that he was going to shove through my lips and keep my mouth open" to tell the truth" before he killed me because i wouldnt do something he wanted. He was so viscious, its hard to shake it off...

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Kind of hard to erase that sort of dream, isn't it?

midwestyankee said:

Kind of hard to erase that sort of dream, isn't it?

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It is. My brother has a head injury, and a bad temper. I do get afraid of him, so this isnt rocket science.....just the dream world exaggerations of voices and expressions, damn so horrible.

I had a dream last night that I was living with my former political science professor, that I still have feelings for and took years ago. We were living together in a big house with multiple roommates, and he wanted to move out and look for new roommates. Then at one point or another, he was laying down with his head on my lap, and I was telling him how much I loved him. Somehow I figured out that I was dreaming, but didn't wake up. The dream fell apart and then segued into something else that I don't remember. The roommate portion of my dream probably echos my real life situation of getting new roommates and trying to find a summer subletter.

Dreamt of a romantic rendezvous with my hot coed girlfriend -- showing her around my childhood hometown -- which segued into a full-on sexual encounter taking place in my old bedroom from my teenage years, of all places. And then further "sexual christenings" with her, of various landmarks in that town, like making out in a van while parked in front of the private home where I took piano lessons, getting furtively frisky with fingers in the town's modestly sized library, and unmentionable sexy hijinks on church property (with "You Can Leave Your Hat On" playing on the sound system in homage to "9 ½ Weeks").

Last night, I dreamed that someone PayPal-ed me $935 in advance to do work for them. (I have no idea why it was that particular amount.)

I haven't been so disappointed to wake up since the time I dreamed that Captain America brought me pizza. Or maybe that time that I dreamed I was (thin and) on some beautiful, deserted Caribbean beach with a shirtless Hiddleston feeding me grapes.

I was a guest judge in MasterChef Australia. The dish I had to rate was a boiled egg that had been painted blue with some diced chorizo. The person who had made the dish was a "five star michelin chef", so the expectations were high. Unfortunately the dish was crap, the egg was hard and the chorico dice was dry like saw dust, so I told that, and got promptly applauded for having the guts to say that the emperor has no clothes.

As a consolation prize for having to eat crappy food I got a chocolate santa.

Recurring nightmare of being walked, by Master, into a very large, dimly lit building with lots of convoluted aisles. I walk forward, not sure where I'm supposed to be going, and when I turn around he is gone. I call out for him and faintly hear his voice but can't figure out where it's coming from, so I just stumble around calling out. Horrible feeling of being lost and alone.

I was in the company of an unknown younger woman who needed to study at her college library, one of those multiplex buildings that has undergone a multitude of additions and remodeling affairs since it was first erected in the 1920. We had found a comfortable king-sized bed in a room that otherwise featured comfy chairs and couches but as we were out in public, we merely used it to spread out our books and loll about while reading and studying. For some reason, I left the bed and shortly became hopelessly lost, like a child in a vast shopping mall filled with women all dressed identically the way it used to happen in the 1950s but that they never quite captured properly on Mad Men, not a great series anyway. A hyperactive liberal-arts professor, young wearing jeans that had seen a life as perhaps a bricklayer's uniform for drinking off the sweat of a week's mostly honest labor and a turtleneck shirt in gray topped by a tweed jacket with, yes, of course, suede patches on the elbows; despite his dress and abject hyperkineticism, he was a genial guide but he, too, was somewhat baffled by the maze of corridors, many decorated by crooked paintings produced by long-ago-graduated students now working as Project Managers for agricultural seed manufacturers or as movie theater popcorn makers. He never did manage to lead me back to the study bed where my date waited, I hope desperately, patiently for my return; instead, as we stood in line for a spirit-rejuvenating green smoothie, my wife tapped me on the shoulder and said it was time for breakfast.

I was simultaneously designing and building (yay dream logic) a drive-through that created on demand custom greeting cards for things like becoming terminally ill, diagnosing a debilitating mental or physical illness, tragic loss, actual death and of course, birthdays. I was creating the designs and fonts and programming the printer which used super soft human hair watercolor brushes and glasses of water (filled with a pump from a well beneath the building) and wheels of color pads that cranked like huge cogs with billions of "teeth" of color pads to dip when you made your selections. More specifically, I was mostly working with the brushes to improve print time to make sure customers didn't have to wait long.

My friend's dad got drunk because we poured Bailey's on his ice cream. He was hungry and tried to eat, but being drunk he couldn't connect his hands to his food, so we had to feed him. With chopsticks It took forever...

Man. Y'all are fucked up.

DeepGreenEyes said:

Man. Y'all are fucked up.

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In your dreams!!
Errr.... no, wait...
In our dreams!
Oh, forget it

DeepGreenEyes said:

Man. Y'all are fucked up.

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And you realize this now?

Collar_N_Cuffs said:

In your dreams!!
Errr.... no, wait...
In our dreams!
Oh, forget it

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I love that you incorporated the theme of the thread so neatly into this witticism. Ten points to Gryffindor.

IrisAlthea said:

And you realize this now?

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I'm slow and a little naive. And you people put on such a fine front of unfuckedupedness.

I was about to have sex with someone who was way too ripped for my waken-self's tastes when I noticed that I had a huge callus on my foot. I went into his bathroom, found a huge steel brush and started to brush it off. Didn't work, the brush broke in half and the bristles fell of.

I've been thinking that I should use foot lotion a lot more regularly than I do now. Clearly my subconsciousness agrees.

I needed eggs, so I went to the supermarket but they were all expired. I complained, but they only agreed with me instead of getting new ones. Then we were in a hospital, and they "resuscitated" the eggs. I was sceptical, but I bought them and took them home. Somebody I don't know came over, so I made them an omelette to see if they would live They left and I had no idea what to do with the eggs...

Eating beef jerky from the hands of a bronze statute.

A woman wearing a lab coat and with her hair parted in three sections singing a song to me that I don't know the words to, but she did

Omg, you dreamt about blue chicken?!
Don't you know what it means to dream about blue chicken?!?!

Gianbattista said:

No?

Does it mean I am a pervert? . Some of our chickens have black meat, the silkies. Some people consider it a delicacy. I am afraid it is something that does nothing for me again all. The dogs do not seem deterred by the colour though.

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It doesn't mean anything that I know of
I just couldn't resist the opportunity to utilize such an unusual sentence, probably the only opportunity I will ever get