I took a nap after I got off work today because I had to head in at 5am today. I had a dream where I was traversing an ever burning field where werewolves lived in the not burning parts. I even conversed and broke bread with them. They even had cook fires. Like why do you need a cook fire your home is literally always on fire
And like what an absurd concept that is. How did my brain even come up with that? Dreams like that are why I don’t believe that dreams have any real meaning.
Man, I’ve had so many dreams that were bloody fantastic that I can’t even remember them all. I keep notes and turn some of them into stories eventually.
Like, in one dream, I was two brothers, flipping between their viewpoints. They had inherited a farm from their aunt, Alice. Under the barn was a stairway into the earth, where they found a tunnel stretching into what seemed like infinity, lined with doors. Each door led to another world.
They had to use pages out of what was their aunt’s diary to find their way around, trying to locate her because there was indication she wasn’t actually dead.
And that’s one of the least surreal.
I rarely remember my dreams. But every once in a while, my brain finishes its standard defrag cycle early and goes “ok, you ready to see some shit?”
Some have recurring settings, and while in the dream I recognize the setting as a place I’ve been before and remember how to navigate it. Yet I don’t think I’m lucid dreaming. I don’t have control over the plot.
That kinda sounds an awful lot like the game Brothers: Two Sons. Fantastic puzzle game if you’ve never played it.
I really should keep a dream journal. I’d love to go back and review some of the wildest ones.