Get Outta My Dreams

…But definitely, please, do NOT get into my car.

Dreams are a fascinating thing. From a very young age, I’ve spent a good portion of my life analysing them and trying to work out what they are telling me. Being of European descent, my childhood was surrounded by dream meanings and metaphors, examples being “teeth are bad” “flying is good” dream assessments. After all of this time, I am of the belief that dreams are not only an expression of our deepest fears and wishes, but an indicator of things that might, and in some cases, WILL come.

Not all dreams are so ‘meaningful’ though. There are those that leave me wondering “is it a full moon?” or “did I eat spicy food last night?”

Like the dreams where you’ve dreamt about someone, you don’t even THINK about, in that way.

I had that such dream the night before, and awoke going ‘what the?!’

It concerned a person at my work, someone I very rarely see, let alone speak to. Something had to do with me, and my parents, trying to get into work amidst traffic delay and car troubles at night. Then once I was there, this person was still there in the company of me and my parents. And for some strange reason, there was this escalating sexual tension between me and this person… to the point that when my parents temporarily left the room, this person came up from behind and grabbed me in a backwards thrust/hug.

Fortunately I still had my smarts on in this dream, and got this person to let me go because my parents were literally seconds from coming back into the room (even though in the dream I didn’t want him to let go).

I had to get up quickly that morning because of work so I didn’t have the normal luxury of staying in bed and trying to work out the dream for a bit longer; therefore I’ve probably forgotten little details about it. But most vivid, was the feeling I got. That didn’t go away so quickly.

Has that ever happened to you? You’ve had a dream so vivid, that the feelings of happiness/sadness/fear/excitement/lust remain long after your eyes have opened? Usually dreams are just moving pictures in your mind, I guess a form of entertainment while you’re asleep, giving you something to ponder during the day if you’re fortunate enough to remember them. But when your frontal lobe gets involved, and has you feeling the way you might in your everyday life, during your dream, well then it just goes to a whole new level.

It messes with your mind, and makes you question things. Now, don’t get me wrong here, I’m a very, very, VERY happily married woman. I’ve spoken to this guy a handful of times since I’ve worked here, and I came across a sex scene in the book I’m reading “Before I go to Sleep” last night, so I’m thinking that might have had something to do with it. But still, wow. Weird.

I’m so glad I haven’t seen him since. That would be utterly awkward. Looking at him with a guilty expression on my face, all for my mind playing out something I didn’t ask it to. I can’t look at him in the same way now. My emotions have now messed with me, and although I am NOT interested, that thing has happened in my mind, in absence of my will… so it’s still a memory, though a dream one at that.

I wonder if a dream-universe exists out there, that is tangible but only on a spiritual level when we are subconscious. It exists in our minds, and when we dream of others, they also dream about us, and it all plays out in this dream-world that ceases to be once we open our eyes in the morning.

I wonder, who has every dreamed about me like that?

Ew. No thanks, I don’t want to know.

However there is also the other side of the coin… for some there is no number of dreams that could make you think differently, or that way inclined about them, in real, or dream life.

You just wake up feeling icky.

Writers are doing it for themselves

Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self.
– Cyril Connolly.

Cyril was an English writer that penned the above quote, which I can’t help but wholeheartedly agree with. Although the task, the goal for a writer is to have his writings read, it is not necessarily the same as having his writings AGREED with.

Once you are concerned with the public, and what they think, and what they will like… your voice is lost. This is one of the hardest realisations I’ve had to fight against since beginning this public blogging process. Before this blog, I had an anonymous blog that was quite frankly, fantastic. I wrote about whatever I wanted, with very little censorship, because I knew out there, no one knew me. I didn’t promote it and I didn’t care. I had 3 followers, and I don’t even think they followed me all too passionately – it suited me just fine, knowing I could say whatever the hell I liked.

It’s a very different ball game now. I think of discussions and ideas and issues, and some sadly have falled to the wayside over my fear of ‘what will happen when I press the publish button?’

Fiction isn’t as hard to stay true to. Because you are creating a pretend world, even if you are expressing your thoughts through your characters, the end product is that your protagonist thinks that, not you.

In bloggerville, your blog = YOU. There’s no getting around that fact.

The answer? I don’t think there is one truth for all writers. It all depends on what kind of writer you want to be. Do you want to please the masses with your safe expressions, or do you want to be revolutionary and in the process be slaughtered for your frankness?

Or do you wanna dance in the middle, giving them all some pleasure, and some pain?

I’m going to try my damndest to not give a shit, all while dancing away from the pitch-forks…