I almost always remember my dreams. It depends if I was industrious enough (or had enough time) to write 'em down or not. It also depends on whether I woke up to the gentle buzz-sawing of my alarm clock or my mother shouted to wake me. If I have enough time and compunction, I'll just start writing it down. If not, I lie motionless and retrace my dream until I got all the details in my head before I get up. Too bad my dream journal got taken with my laptop on the Day I'd Rather Not Have Happened. Reading back your old dreams feel alot like reading a stranger's journal. There are dreams you'd have forgotten about altogether or certain segues you don't remember having.
My dreams are usually in one chronological stretch. Then there are those that do not make any sense- usually a precursor to the next dream. Those'd be th' segues. If I'm really fortunate, I dream of someplace familiar and I'm let loose to basically do whatever I want. The best kind of dreams are the ones where your friends are in.
If you have to spark a riot as a cover to escape from your would-be assasins, there's no one better than to rely on than having Mel head up the other team. Two teams are a little bit more chaotic than one. The only downside is that I wouldn't have anyone I really knew or trusted to watch my back, were we split. All was good and we managed to cause enough ruckus for the schoolbus carrying Pastor Carey and Lois to make it safely 'cross the border and back into JB.
Ange features prominently in all my "Oh Cr*p, I'm late for service and I'm playing keyboard for worship!" Heh. Have I had any bad experiences with you and punctuality? Usually I'd be racing up the staircase and I can hear the strains of the first song already. Or we'd be in worship practice and I was downstairs trying to get up to where you were without having to pass the huge*ss carnivorous dinosaur in the lobby. (Note-to-self: find out where the real fire alarms are in church.) Anyhow, the latest dream I had with her was the one where we were in some sort of military thing doing a face-off tactical drill ala "Capture The Flag" against this other visiting team who had a team leader named Amanda who played bass. They cheated, we lost and I laughed at how bloody brilliant they were into replacing our flag with a decoy so we were running about thinking all was well when they've actually gotten our flag. *snorts* Remind me to tell you about that one. It was pretty detailed.
I had to haul Lyd's skinny ass down several floors via a steep staircase to escape this homeless guy who was about to attack us. Or the one time I was wandering about my primary school looking for her to ask her something about filming the assembly.
Eurgh, speaking of school- I can't remember how many countless times I've had the dream of me repeating Form 5 and *still* unprepared for SPM despite being older and supposedly wiser/smarter. I love school, don't get me wrong. But it stops being funny when I'm 23 and still cringing everytime Mrs Ing asks me why I don't have my homework. I'm an adult, d*mmit! I don't have to do your stupid homework if I don't want to!
Things I can / can't do in a dream:
~ Can't murder something/someone in cold blood even if I absolutely have to. I'm such a wuss when it comes to that. I cringed when I realised I was supposed to strangle a hamster and just started running. Shooting someone who would've killed you is a different matter altogether. Hey, he was going to kill me, okay? Besides, my guns always turn into toy ones and start shooting odd objects like calculators and string confetti instead.
~ Can't die in a dream. Jumped off tall buildings (floated back onto the ground), stood still in the middle of heavy traffic and let a car plow into me (it felt like being gently pushed into a pile of plush pillows), letting some boogeyman catch up to me only to fall to the really soft ground asleep. It's weird.
~ I actually know how to use a gun. Maybe its all that CSI I've been watching. I taught Lois how to take a gun apart, assemble it and load it up. I named all the parts and warned her about the hair trigger and recoil. Apparently, you're supposed to fire in short controlled bursts as not to lose your target because of the recoil kicking your aim off. Hmm. Maybe its all the Hitman I've been playing.
~ Can't use stick shift to save my life. Can't drive without having the car plow into something or getting scratched. Hey, it's not my fault if the car has really sluggish brakes, right?
~ I have both cried and laughed myself awake. There'd be tears on my pillow or I'd be smiling. I'd crack myself up in dreams sometimes and wake up realizing it really wasn't that funny after all. I guess I have lower expectations of myself when dreaming.
Most of the dreams I have end up as premises for stories or ideas. I had a dream in primary school that turned into a universe that I created complete with diagrams, character biographies and a long complex story that I still work on til today from time to time. Most of it was lost on the Day I'd Rather Not Have Happened. Here are a couple of snippets I dug up recently:
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No one has spoken for the last hour or so, prefering instead to wallow in self-pity. The darkness of the room was threatening to overwhelm us and physically swallow us whole. We were all huddled around the humming space heater which dimly illuminated our faces in muted orange. If someone doesn't say something soon, I'll start bursting into song. Hey, if you squint, Prescott looks like th' Cheetos cheetah dude with the sunshades. Why does she wear those at night anyway?
"So." We all jumped. Libby's voice scratchy from disuse broke our reverie. "We're... saving the universe." The two second pause after that felt longer than the previous hour of silence. "A mad scientist, mechanic, musician, jock, hairstylist, lawyer and a space heater?" I can't believe she just ranked us in terms of usefulness.
"We could mesmerise the enemy with my gift of song," Iris mumbled, her eyes closed. Exactly what I was thinking of earlier. Except that I wasn't being all sarcastic and cynical like her.
Ever the optimist, Paul lights up brightly "Aw, c'mon Lib. It isn't so bad, look at the bright side..."
My dreams are usually in one chronological stretch. Then there are those that do not make any sense- usually a precursor to the next dream. Those'd be th' segues. If I'm really fortunate, I dream of someplace familiar and I'm let loose to basically do whatever I want. The best kind of dreams are the ones where your friends are in.
If you have to spark a riot as a cover to escape from your would-be assasins, there's no one better than to rely on than having Mel head up the other team. Two teams are a little bit more chaotic than one. The only downside is that I wouldn't have anyone I really knew or trusted to watch my back, were we split. All was good and we managed to cause enough ruckus for the schoolbus carrying Pastor Carey and Lois to make it safely 'cross the border and back into JB.
Ange features prominently in all my "Oh Cr*p, I'm late for service and I'm playing keyboard for worship!" Heh. Have I had any bad experiences with you and punctuality? Usually I'd be racing up the staircase and I can hear the strains of the first song already. Or we'd be in worship practice and I was downstairs trying to get up to where you were without having to pass the huge*ss carnivorous dinosaur in the lobby. (Note-to-self: find out where the real fire alarms are in church.) Anyhow, the latest dream I had with her was the one where we were in some sort of military thing doing a face-off tactical drill ala "Capture The Flag" against this other visiting team who had a team leader named Amanda who played bass. They cheated, we lost and I laughed at how bloody brilliant they were into replacing our flag with a decoy so we were running about thinking all was well when they've actually gotten our flag. *snorts* Remind me to tell you about that one. It was pretty detailed.
I had to haul Lyd's skinny ass down several floors via a steep staircase to escape this homeless guy who was about to attack us. Or the one time I was wandering about my primary school looking for her to ask her something about filming the assembly.
Eurgh, speaking of school- I can't remember how many countless times I've had the dream of me repeating Form 5 and *still* unprepared for SPM despite being older and supposedly wiser/smarter. I love school, don't get me wrong. But it stops being funny when I'm 23 and still cringing everytime Mrs Ing asks me why I don't have my homework. I'm an adult, d*mmit! I don't have to do your stupid homework if I don't want to!
Things I can / can't do in a dream:
~ Can't murder something/someone in cold blood even if I absolutely have to. I'm such a wuss when it comes to that. I cringed when I realised I was supposed to strangle a hamster and just started running. Shooting someone who would've killed you is a different matter altogether. Hey, he was going to kill me, okay? Besides, my guns always turn into toy ones and start shooting odd objects like calculators and string confetti instead.
~ Can't die in a dream. Jumped off tall buildings (floated back onto the ground), stood still in the middle of heavy traffic and let a car plow into me (it felt like being gently pushed into a pile of plush pillows), letting some boogeyman catch up to me only to fall to the really soft ground asleep. It's weird.
~ I actually know how to use a gun. Maybe its all that CSI I've been watching. I taught Lois how to take a gun apart, assemble it and load it up. I named all the parts and warned her about the hair trigger and recoil. Apparently, you're supposed to fire in short controlled bursts as not to lose your target because of the recoil kicking your aim off. Hmm. Maybe its all the Hitman I've been playing.
~ Can't use stick shift to save my life. Can't drive without having the car plow into something or getting scratched. Hey, it's not my fault if the car has really sluggish brakes, right?
~ I have both cried and laughed myself awake. There'd be tears on my pillow or I'd be smiling. I'd crack myself up in dreams sometimes and wake up realizing it really wasn't that funny after all. I guess I have lower expectations of myself when dreaming.
Most of the dreams I have end up as premises for stories or ideas. I had a dream in primary school that turned into a universe that I created complete with diagrams, character biographies and a long complex story that I still work on til today from time to time. Most of it was lost on the Day I'd Rather Not Have Happened. Here are a couple of snippets I dug up recently:
-------
No one has spoken for the last hour or so, prefering instead to wallow in self-pity. The darkness of the room was threatening to overwhelm us and physically swallow us whole. We were all huddled around the humming space heater which dimly illuminated our faces in muted orange. If someone doesn't say something soon, I'll start bursting into song. Hey, if you squint, Prescott looks like th' Cheetos cheetah dude with the sunshades. Why does she wear those at night anyway?
"So." We all jumped. Libby's voice scratchy from disuse broke our reverie. "We're... saving the universe." The two second pause after that felt longer than the previous hour of silence. "A mad scientist, mechanic, musician, jock, hairstylist, lawyer and a space heater?" I can't believe she just ranked us in terms of usefulness.
"We could mesmerise the enemy with my gift of song," Iris mumbled, her eyes closed. Exactly what I was thinking of earlier. Except that I wasn't being all sarcastic and cynical like her.
Ever the optimist, Paul lights up brightly "Aw, c'mon Lib. It isn't so bad, look at the bright side..."
"I can run very fast." Brett says hopefully. "An' lift moderately heavy stuff." Yessir you can indeed, I supress a grin; making out his muscular outline through the darkness.
"There, you see? All is not lost."
"Yeah! And I've got mad skills with the kung-fu and I'm a wicked cool demolitions expert to boot. We'll blow them bad guys away!" Everyone stared at Cheyanne like she had something hanging out of her nose. It's nice when that look isn't directed at me sometimes. She shrugged, "Just displaying my lawyering superpowers- quite convincing, don't you think?" I think I can hear Iris' eyes rolling.
Not wanting to be outdone, I contribute my two-cents worth "I'm moderately heavy."
Liberty sighed and rubbed her face "We're doomed."
Why does everyone keep looking at me like that?
----
----
(Scene: In the rebel makeshift lab where Callie Resident Genius Scientist has been hidden, working on super secret project to save the day. Cue dramatic music as camera flys through the cavernous space. Blue sparks, flashing light, fog rises from the ground and our heroes enter waving the smoke away, trying to walk without tripping over anything.)
"There, you see? All is not lost."
"Yeah! And I've got mad skills with the kung-fu and I'm a wicked cool demolitions expert to boot. We'll blow them bad guys away!" Everyone stared at Cheyanne like she had something hanging out of her nose. It's nice when that look isn't directed at me sometimes. She shrugged, "Just displaying my lawyering superpowers- quite convincing, don't you think?" I think I can hear Iris' eyes rolling.
Not wanting to be outdone, I contribute my two-cents worth "I'm moderately heavy."
Liberty sighed and rubbed her face "We're doomed."
Why does everyone keep looking at me like that?
----
----
(Scene: In the rebel makeshift lab where Callie Resident Genius Scientist has been hidden, working on super secret project to save the day. Cue dramatic music as camera flys through the cavernous space. Blue sparks, flashing light, fog rises from the ground and our heroes enter waving the smoke away, trying to walk without tripping over anything.)
(Pan to Liberty who cranes her head up to look at the contraption Callie built. Camera follows her gaze.)
Liberty : What the heck is that thing?
(Dramatic pause as we cut to Cal who gestures with a flourish. Music swells)
Callie : It's a- Time Machine.
(Music stops. Cut to everyone else. Cue collective WTF looks- shock! awe! raised eyebrows! resigned faces! rolling eyes! etc! )
Iris : (deadpans) I knew it.
Liberty : No, Cal- really...
Callie : We're all gonna hop onto the Time Machine and take us back to the past, right the wrongs and stop Kamisaka from killing people.
Iris : I knew it all along. Four words- Sci-fi soap opera. Maybe three words.
Brett : (stage whispers to Cheyanne) She's cracked.
Cheyanne : On crack.
Paul : Time travel... my God, it's like- Science Fiction!
Callie : (looks smug) Yep. Like a particularly bad episode of Star Trek, we will go back in time to save the day. It'll be like the war never happened.
Liberty : Quit jerking around, Prescott.
(Liberty and Callie walk up to the machine leaving the others standing behind. Camera tightens on them.)
Iris : (still mumbling to herself) Maybe more like a particularly bad season of Dallas... and we wake up realizing its all a dream.
Devlynn : There wasn't no time machine in Dallas.
Iris : Well, there's a time machine on this show.
Liberty : (off camera) It's not a bloody time-machine and this is not a show. Now get over here, all of you.
Iris : You know what's going to happen next? We gonna get thrown into the future instead where Noriko is the dark neo-empress of the galaxy and make us all her hentai slaves.
(end scene)
(Cut to Noriko Kamisaka sneezing.)
-----
Liberty : What the heck is that thing?
(Dramatic pause as we cut to Cal who gestures with a flourish. Music swells)
Callie : It's a- Time Machine.
(Music stops. Cut to everyone else. Cue collective WTF looks- shock! awe! raised eyebrows! resigned faces! rolling eyes! etc! )
Iris : (deadpans) I knew it.
Liberty : No, Cal- really...
Callie : We're all gonna hop onto the Time Machine and take us back to the past, right the wrongs and stop Kamisaka from killing people.
Iris : I knew it all along. Four words- Sci-fi soap opera. Maybe three words.
Brett : (stage whispers to Cheyanne) She's cracked.
Cheyanne : On crack.
Paul : Time travel... my God, it's like- Science Fiction!
Callie : (looks smug) Yep. Like a particularly bad episode of Star Trek, we will go back in time to save the day. It'll be like the war never happened.
Liberty : Quit jerking around, Prescott.
(Liberty and Callie walk up to the machine leaving the others standing behind. Camera tightens on them.)
Iris : (still mumbling to herself) Maybe more like a particularly bad season of Dallas... and we wake up realizing its all a dream.
Devlynn : There wasn't no time machine in Dallas.
Iris : Well, there's a time machine on this show.
Liberty : (off camera) It's not a bloody time-machine and this is not a show. Now get over here, all of you.
Iris : You know what's going to happen next? We gonna get thrown into the future instead where Noriko is the dark neo-empress of the galaxy and make us all her hentai slaves.
(end scene)
(Cut to Noriko Kamisaka sneezing.)
-----
Believe it or not, the story is supposed to be very dark and post-apocalyptic. People dying, losing hope and all that. LOL! Dunno why my drabblets always turn out weird. Noriko Kamisaka rocks! She's the coolest villian since Darth Vader... I wish there'd be more movies with bad guys like her. Heh. Doesn't take a Callie Prescott to know which side I root for most of the time. The good guys always get battered around. Poor Liberty.
Speaking of Liberty, here's a snippet from Vagabond Viking.
---
The seneschal sputtered upon seeing Hrafn's fingers run through his mistress' hair, "My lady! The vagabond is too familiar..."
She raised a hand to silence his shocked tirade, "Monteroy, liberty is scarce in this day and age. If my guest can find any with me then I welcome him to take as much as he pleases."
Hrafn raised his brow, mouthing "Liberties?" The Baroness merely smiled sweetly in a benign manner as though she did not just invite the Norseman to molest her.
"And furthermore," she continued, "You would do well to remember that my guests are to be treated with the same respect you treat me."
---
And no, its not a love story. Hrafn (Raven) the nomad viking who washed ashore ends up raiding the baroness' castle with his ragtag band of rebels to free the down-trodden province from her dominion. I had fun writing it. Just don't ask me to do it again.
By the way, go read Ange's stories... they're pretty good. Plugplug.
Have a good night and sweet dreams.
Speaking of Liberty, here's a snippet from Vagabond Viking.
---
The seneschal sputtered upon seeing Hrafn's fingers run through his mistress' hair, "My lady! The vagabond is too familiar..."
She raised a hand to silence his shocked tirade, "Monteroy, liberty is scarce in this day and age. If my guest can find any with me then I welcome him to take as much as he pleases."
Hrafn raised his brow, mouthing "Liberties?" The Baroness merely smiled sweetly in a benign manner as though she did not just invite the Norseman to molest her.
"And furthermore," she continued, "You would do well to remember that my guests are to be treated with the same respect you treat me."
---
And no, its not a love story. Hrafn (Raven) the nomad viking who washed ashore ends up raiding the baroness' castle with his ragtag band of rebels to free the down-trodden province from her dominion. I had fun writing it. Just don't ask me to do it again.
By the way, go read Ange's stories... they're pretty good. Plugplug.
Have a good night and sweet dreams.