DREAMS
One of the greatest inventions known to man is the sleep to wake cycle; especially the sleeping part. Okay it’s really a marvel of evolution that the gods provide as a mechanism of rest from the pencil pushing, butt kissing, shoe licking, desperate groveling mode that most of us call work. Nowhere can we find a complete culmination of laziness more than when flopping on the mattress long before it is time to do so.
The folks who stand out the most however, are the ones who are on their way out of the door after work claiming “the only thing I’m doin’ when I get home is getting in the bed.” It is never my bed it is always the bed, as if there is some club-med oasis secluded in their very own home.
Who can blame us? Where else can we close our eyes and live a completely different life? We are forever young in our dreams. We can touch forbidden things, and perform feats without consequence. All of it is tailored by our own desires. When sleeping, our mind goes where it wants to and there is an assumption that we are not to blame. A spouse can have a fling in a dream, and there’s not much a partner can do about it.
It is a fair bet that most of us have affairs in our own beds while our spouse lies right next to us. A typical explanation is “after all it was only a dream.” If you ever try this method, then beware. Dreams can also cause black eyes, brusies, and a weekend sleeping on the couch.
This special alternative universe of the subconscious is valuable. We are spoken to from the great beyond, receive premonitions or are given tonight’s winning lottery numbers. The one who tries to pass off the winning numbers to us inevitably wears broken glasses because they are never correct. In this mysterious mode we are capable of solving the worlds problems, delivering consequential answers to questions of the age, and seeing our favorite sexy neighbor naked after all these years.
Of course there are those out of control experiences where we dream about falling, losing control of the steering wheel or the bluebird of happiness pooping on our head.
Another problem with the unconscious state of mind is that we often wake and after a period of time don’t remember some of the juicier visions. In the morning it is fresh and easy to describe just how somebody’s butt wiggled as we watched them falling off their bicycle into a thorn bush. By the time the day is over though we’ll forget about every detail; except the throny rump twitching like a pair of hams . Even with the loss of dream details there are some things that we consistently commit to our brain permanently. It’s like storing secrets under our mattress. Thank goodness no one else goes there to find them.
Sometimes that recall refuge is seen on our faces as we daydream in front of our work computers. It looks like we’re concentrating on the bosses important excel spreadsheet when, in fact, we’re looking in our brain at a completely different spread altogether.
It’s even tougher to summon up the good dream material once senility sets in. Ask an elderly person about their dreams and they’ll likely tell you something convoluted. Usually it is about their pacifier, or a story about how they spent a long winter at Mount Vernon. There are only short moments of lucidity for the elderly, but in those times the ultimate memory is from their dreams regarding that special someone’s keester; even if it belongs to Martha Washington.
The folks who stand out the most however, are the ones who are on their way out of the door after work claiming “the only thing I’m doin’ when I get home is getting in the bed.” It is never my bed it is always the bed, as if there is some club-med oasis secluded in their very own home.
Who can blame us? Where else can we close our eyes and live a completely different life? We are forever young in our dreams. We can touch forbidden things, and perform feats without consequence. All of it is tailored by our own desires. When sleeping, our mind goes where it wants to and there is an assumption that we are not to blame. A spouse can have a fling in a dream, and there’s not much a partner can do about it.
It is a fair bet that most of us have affairs in our own beds while our spouse lies right next to us. A typical explanation is “after all it was only a dream.” If you ever try this method, then beware. Dreams can also cause black eyes, brusies, and a weekend sleeping on the couch.
This special alternative universe of the subconscious is valuable. We are spoken to from the great beyond, receive premonitions or are given tonight’s winning lottery numbers. The one who tries to pass off the winning numbers to us inevitably wears broken glasses because they are never correct. In this mysterious mode we are capable of solving the worlds problems, delivering consequential answers to questions of the age, and seeing our favorite sexy neighbor naked after all these years.
Of course there are those out of control experiences where we dream about falling, losing control of the steering wheel or the bluebird of happiness pooping on our head.
Another problem with the unconscious state of mind is that we often wake and after a period of time don’t remember some of the juicier visions. In the morning it is fresh and easy to describe just how somebody’s butt wiggled as we watched them falling off their bicycle into a thorn bush. By the time the day is over though we’ll forget about every detail; except the throny rump twitching like a pair of hams . Even with the loss of dream details there are some things that we consistently commit to our brain permanently. It’s like storing secrets under our mattress. Thank goodness no one else goes there to find them.
Sometimes that recall refuge is seen on our faces as we daydream in front of our work computers. It looks like we’re concentrating on the bosses important excel spreadsheet when, in fact, we’re looking in our brain at a completely different spread altogether.
It’s even tougher to summon up the good dream material once senility sets in. Ask an elderly person about their dreams and they’ll likely tell you something convoluted. Usually it is about their pacifier, or a story about how they spent a long winter at Mount Vernon. There are only short moments of lucidity for the elderly, but in those times the ultimate memory is from their dreams regarding that special someone’s keester; even if it belongs to Martha Washington.
posted by Giosue' Santarelli at 1:15 PM
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