I’ve been having bizarre dreams lately.
Last night, I dreamt I was on a horse drawn chariot going through a Narnia-esque adventure. With me on my journey were three foul-mouthed children and a rapper whose job was clear to me was similar to T-Pain’s, yet he looked like Andre 3000. The T-Pain act-alike was mean to me the entire trip, and the foul-mouthed children were singing swear filled songs like “99 bottles of fuck on the wall.” Stressfully navigating our way through the forests and avoiding witches, werewolfs, and robots, we finally were able to see a clearing. As we inched our way forward we also saw a dark hole in the side of a tree. One of the kids jumped out of the chariot said: “Fuck this shit, I’m gonna see what the fuck is going on in this cunty looking hole” and walked toward the tree. Flies emerged from the hole and enveloped the child until there was nothing left of him and just the flies existed; buzzing back toward the tree. I screamed, the children said “fuck it,” and T-Painish looked away and shook his head.
I ran out of the chariot toward where the child’s remains should have been only to have the flies come after me. I fought off the insects’ attempts to take over my body, spitting out flies in the process, and when I finally won the battle I also woke up.
The other dream I had was about a good friend. The dream started with her proposing to me on one knee with an onion ring. While I was tempted by the fried food, I asked her to stand up and eat her proposal – literally. I then walked her down to the Mississippi River, explaining the whole way why our marriage would be fruitless. When we got to the river we stood looking off a bridge, then I jumped. I washed ashore somewhere down the Mississippi where it was very warm. Then I woke up.
Both these dreams seem saturated in symbolism. With my free time – aka: all the time – I’ve been analyzing these seemingly deep and meaningful night-thoughts. What I first determined was that the children represent teaching – my backup plan career – foulmouthed because so was I as a kid, the narniaesque journey is the backdrop because I’m working on writing a screenplay that parodies the typical fairy tale, T-Pain/Andre 3000 represents fame – something I am desperately seeking, and the flies represent death. Therefore, fame has not been so kind to me, but teaching also represents the death of my dreams, which in turn represents the death of me. And I am trying to fight off that death with all my strength.
The second dream was a little simpler. All my friends are boring and are getting married or are in long term relationships. I’m frightened of commitment so the dream symbolized my intense fear of commitment to the point that I will jump off a bridge to escape the possibility of marriage. The warm place I woke up in represents any place but Minnesota – meaning I just need to get the fuck out of here.
Those were my first analyses of those dreams. On further reflection, I’ve decided that my dreams are not that deep. My awake life is just so boring that I need to make up for it by having crazy exciting things happen to me while I’m asleep. Maybe that’s also why I sleep for 10-11 hours a night: it’s more fun in my subconscious.
So next time I’m riding a rocket powered horse on wheels with my centaur-maid sitting shotgun telling me that I better “eat more fucking poison applesauce” otherwise my father’s testicles will turn into a vortex of death and then my grandmother tries to propose to me with a jar of peanut butter, I’ll know that I should be doing more with my day.
4 thoughts on “Why sleeping seems like a lot of work”
Great blog will read more when I have time! xx
Who is this Emma woman and why is she trying to tell you how great your blog is? Seems like she needs to spend a little less time reading your blog and a little more time learning how to read.
I think this “Emma” may be a robot trying to sell Nisse horses. Or something.
She also offered no hugs, only kisses. Lame.
I forgot what I was going to say. Oh! Dreams. Yeah, I hope they don’t mean anything. Last semester I used to dream about going back to Macalester and being attacked by packs of wolves that wanted to eat my hands. I couldn’t get away because my friends locked all the doors and I had to stay outside in the snow stained with my blood. Awesome.