|Title:||Get out of my head!|
|Posted On:||2007-01-11 11:34:24|
For the past couple of months, I've been having the weirdest dreams I've had in a long time. There's almost always a similar theme, even though they vary wildly; somthing extremely happy, and extreme violence. A lot of them somehow end up with me being at my grandparent's place with someone that I care about and can't get out of my head, and usually mixed up with parts from whatever horror movie I've watched recently. I get them a lot more when I take my painkillers/anti-spasm things for my IBS, so I'm guessing that they're related. The dreams are usually interesting as hell and extremely realistic. I think it goes great lengths towards proving how fucked up in the head I really am that most of the time, these "dreams" are acually split half/half, starting off just a dream and then turning into a nightmare, and that when the nightmare part comes along, and I realise that I'm dreaming, it's like I'm encouraging and goading the dream into being the worst, scariest thing imaginable, because of how much I love horror movies. I just want to see how sick and bizare and scary things can get at that point.
A couple of recent dreams:
A few nights ago I dreamt that I was living with my parents.. They weren't back together, but we were all living in the same house (a place my mother had years ago). Everyone was gone (I think on vacation) and I'd left and come home. For some reason, there's a naked dead girl with her neck broken in the house, that I for some reason associate with me killing her. I get a phone cal from my dad and he says that they're on their way home and will be there any minute now, so I don't have any time to get rid of the body. I end up putting it in the closet of my dad and his GF's room, sitting in the corner kind of like the dead girl at the start of The Ring. I go and sit in my room, and it's completely empty, except for one of those 'A' stepladders in the middle of the room, so I climb to the top and sit there. I start talking with someone about the recent rash of killings that seem to be commited in the neighborhood by a new serial killer, and somehow, even though I don't remember any of the killings, I know I'm the one who did it. As we're talking, my dad's GF finds the body in the closet and freaks out. I go and look to pretend to be innocent, and as I get there, she looks at me and starts to get up and move towards me, and that's when I ended up waking up.
Last night was weird as hell. My grandfather and uncles were bounty hunters hunting for serial killers, and lived in the house they had in Sherbrooke when I was growing up. I was helping them on the case, this guy who was a cannibal. He had his jaw/mouth replaced with a big metal one, kind of reminescant of a bear trap surgicaly implanted where your mouth should be. At some point midway through he finds out we're looking for him and hires someone to go and kill us. I end up being tired and stressed and breaking down from the whole investigation, so I go take a walk outside and for some reason, my ex is there. We start talking and end up getting back together, and then this guy comes out of nowhere and tries to shoot us with a shotgun, but it jams/doesn't fire. I take out my gun and shoot him in the head. We end up going inside and falling asleep on the sofa watching a movie, and then get woken up by my uncle telling me that captured him and that he's in the kitchen, and that's when I actually woke up.