What goes on in my head?

Trip Start Sep 28, 2011
1
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Trip End Ongoing


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Flag of Colombia  ,
Tuesday, March 20, 2012

I stumble out of a late showing of a film with 'something sunrise' as the title.  It's a 24 hour movie and people are bedding down in the cinema isles with coffee and sleeping bags.  I don't fancy it.  I climb into a classic convertible bottle green Jaguar and take off for a spin round twisty roads in the country.  Every so often I come across an accident, with a car or tractor overturned, which I assume has to do with the high winds.  It's on one such encounter that I discover Kurt Cobain has lost his shoelaces and I need to go look for them.  I'm driving around trying to rack my brains as to who could have taken them, and I come up with a short list of Maradona, the entire Brazilian football team and Oasis.  Then my dad wakes me up.

This is scratching the surface of the amount of crazy dreams my subconscious has managed to come up with.  I also have a recurring zombie dream, where I lead a lot of people to safety through a ruined castle.  Then there was the one about playing pool on the dashboard of the Starship Enterprise.  Only it wasn't the Starship Enterprise, it was a pimped out winnebago in space piloted by Alf. The one that gets me every time though, is the one about the mysterious, faceless dark haired girl.  Last night she was there again, along with my ex girlfriend, my parents and Spiderman.

Dreams are meant to be a way of sorting out the crap that goes on in our waking lives.  A deep sleep mental repair system that without being too aware of it, should make us feel better in the morning.  More often than not my dreams have left me with questions rather than answers.  I've had some crazy ones since setting off traveling, which has obviously got a lot to do with the new sights I'm taking in every day.  Yet it's the recurring themes that still keep returning to haunt me.  I always wake missing my parents, my ex, and wondering who this dark haired girl is.  Spiderman was just a bonus this time.

I used to keep a dream diary when I was younger, which contained some serious works of mental art, especially from those frustrating dreams that you swear were real when you wake.  My favourite bittersweet example was having an hour in Toy's R Us with a massive trolley and giant hands.  I think I cried a bit when I woke up.

So they are set to continually fascinate, excite, scare and enthrall me.  "We are such stuff
as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep."  I'm guessing Shakespeare would know what I'm talking about.  The link between dreams, death and his brother sleep is all too real for me, but the 'undiscovered country' holds no fear.  It's just another path I will enjoy treading when I've done walking everything else.  Maybe I'll even find Kurt Cobain's shoelaces, or better yet, this mysterious girl who is always just out of reach.





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