Chapter Twenty-Eight: Dreamscape (or: More Like Nightmarescape)

Based on an exercise outlined in the book "Thinkertoys"

This one was tricky, since I don't usually remember my dreams, and here I am asked to keep a dream diary from which I will somehow divine the solution to whatever problem I am pondering. Bearing my sporadic recall of dreams even moments after awakening for the day, I figured I should pick something simple to dwell upon, such as "What is the secret to life, the universe, and everything?"

No, I kid, I kid. In reality I chose to reflect upon "What is the best way to convince myself to wake up at a more reasonable hour?" Which was directly related to dreaming from the onset.

So, I did as the exercise recommended, and set my alarm to half an hour earlier than usual so as to attempt to catch myself in a "dreaming period." This did absolutely nothing.

I kept it up for a few days; once I woke up briefly during the night due to some horrifying dream, but I rolled over and went back to sleep before I could remember to reach for the bit of paper on the ledge next to my bed to record it.

I actually only remembered one dream in any sort of detail, and even then I hadn't actually recorded it in the dream journal-- I was talking to a friend and he said something that randomly sparked a recall, so I described my dream to him and affirmed it in my memory.

I was being chased throughout some sort of park, but I wasn't the only one, as it was some sort of terrible sporting competition. I survived long enough to be brought to some room with seven others, four of us placed on the top level and four on the bottom (I was on the top). Some menacing fellows told us that only half could proceed, and one of them starting charging up some sort of lightning. I siddled slowly over until I was behind him, which for some reason he didn't notice, and he fried the other three people on the top level, looked confused, then fried an extra person on the bottom level.

... and then they took us to watch a 3D movie in an improbably gigantic movie theater, and I woke up before the commercials finished.

What that has to do with my query I'm not entirely certain. I suppose I could hire an assassin to hunt me for sport if I don't start waking up earlier and going to bed at a more reasonable hour? Man, my psyche is messed up.

Closing thoughts on this exercise:

Dreams can be horrifying and there's probably a reason why I don't usually remember them.

A short note about my creative environment:

I decided to spend some time outside of my room, so I wrote this with my laptop perched on my lap, sitting on one of the comfortable couches in my house's living room. There's lots of natural sunlight filtering in through myriad windows, and my mom's watching some overdramatic soap opera on the television which was mildly distracting.