I always have crazy dreams. For years I’ve been a terrible sleeper, and the aul counsellor has told me I can remember so many of my dreams because I never go into REM sleep, and although you dream in REM sleep you tend not to remember them. I’ve been over sleeping a lot recently, apparently this is fairly common for people suffering from major depression because sleep is when the body repairs itself. It’s so unusual for me because I have been an insomniac for years, going days without sleep sometimes. And I always remember my dreams.
I’m bringing this up because I had an incredibly weird dream last night. I Dreamt I met a friend on a zebra crossing beside my home and he told me Krist Novoselic from Nirvana had died. I have no idea why my subconscious would think this was relevant, but that was literally it. So today I’ve been thinking about my dreams, especially the recurring dreams I have had since I was a kid. There are three that I’m gonna tell you about, two of them surround my damaging childhood obsession with my own and my loved ones mortality, the other involves Bruce Willis. Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough.
Dream 1: The Giants
In the dream, I would wake up in my bed in my old room. I would be in the corner of the bed, but for some reason I would be miniscule in the corner of the room. In the opposite corner, which felt a million miles away, there were two robotic giants talking about killing my whole family (I had a love of Transformers as a child, I think that’s where I got that from). When they realised I was awake they just laughed at me. I always woke up at this point, but I still felt tiny in the corner of my bed (I actually think now I was waking up in a panic and my head was all distorted but I never thought about that as a kid). Seriously though, Giant Murderous Robots, what the fuckin fuck is that all about? I always thought I was mental.
Dream 2: The Aliens
My family have never actually had a reunion, so this is weird in the sense that it took part at a family reunion. And this reunion was in my 2nd cousins house who had little to do with the rest of the family outside of my immediates. We’d all be in the room having a laugh, everyone drinking away, and for some reason I would always go underneath a seat in the corner. As soon as I planted myself here a rag tag bunch of mismatched aliens would arrive in the room and murder everyone except me. One of them looked like a big red demon. Another one had an strange resemblance to cheetara.
Dream 3: Bruce Willis
So yeah, this is the weirdest one. I always die at the end of this dream, but the dream itself is in the 3rd person, like a film, so I don’t see myself die. I’m more of a character in this madness than anything. Anyway, the dream always starts with me running across a load of roof tops in black and white, obviously shitting myself. Not far behind me is Bruce Willis, and he looks very unhappy. Obviously Bruce is a Bad man so I have reason to be worried. I keep running and look back to see where he is, not realising I’m at a buildings edge. I lose my balance and plummet to my doom. Bruce looks over the edge and lights a cigarette, and the tip of the cigarette is in red. The weird thing is, I’d never actually seen Sin City when I started having this dream. The sound of me hitting the ground is fucking horrifying, like a mix of a splat and a crunch. Although I must say, my subconscious has a wonderous knack for cinematography, it’s a beautifully shot dream.
I don’t know if I believe in the whole “dreams have meanings” business. I know the first two revolve around the whole mortality thing but I really want to know where the fuck Bruce Willis came into all this. I mean, I rarely eat cheese at night.