Floating in dreamspace

I had such an amazing dream tonight that it demands to be shared here on the great place of the Internet. It was so cool. So awesome, so.. yeah. Got me to realize I’ve been getting a lot of science fiction into my system lately.

I’ve never been that good on telling stories (which makes me the ultimate blogger, I know), but nevertheless I’m gonna give it a try. Don’t shoot me if it wasn’t what you expected.

We (myself and all the people I apparently know, but don’t have a clue about outside the dreamworld) were on this center where we were gonna learn something about something, on a spaceship that was stranded on a planet. And we were left pretty much to ourselves, we got to go to the store and buy in groceries as we saw fit. I went to the store and got back with a pepperoni pizza (which I regretted buying, since I don’t eat meat), a carton of red wine, and some energy bars. That was our food for a few days. As it turns out, we didn’t have as much freedom to buy food as I first thought.

After a while of hanging out in our dorm, we got attacked buy aliens. And they were this huge, ten times bigger than humans, aliens. They didn’t really have faces, it looked like they were squinting way too much, which resulted in their eyes and mouths being hidden inside all the skin. And they were kind of brown/blueish. And it was all chaos, until I discovered something really disturbing. Someone had drunk my carton of wine. And in the chaos of being attacked by aliens, I started interrogating everyone to find out who drank it. Which shouldn’t really be that difficult, because when you’ve drunk a carton of wine by yourself, it should be pretty obvious. My search for the drunken thief, however, got interrupted by our spaceship being ripped apart by these aliens. So we ended up floating around in space. And I was still pissed about the stolen wine. I suspected our teacher, who floated near me, so I confronted her. It turned out, she seemed pretty wasted. So I yelled at her, about how she really couldn’t just go about drinking wine while we were attacked by aliens, and most importantly, that wine wasn’t hers. She didn’t really care. So I just floated around in space being angry until I woke up.

If there’s one thing I learned from this dream, it’s that if I ever get attacked by aliens in space, I should watch my priorities carefully. And that sadly, I am perhaps not suitable as the Doctors companion. But I don’t want to believe that, so I’ll keep on not believing it. I would be awesome as his companion. (For those of you that don’t watch Doctor Who, and don’t have the faintest idea what I’m taking about; watch Doctor Who.) Doctor, if you read this, I’m not really even that interested in alcohol, it’s never been a big part of my priorities. Honest. (Really, I am honest. Even though it sounds like I’m in denial of my drinking problem. Anyway, Rose loves drugs!)

Pictures almost shamelessly stolen from Google.

I dreamt I was raped.

No, I did not dream the actual rape. Thank god. But the kind of weird thing is that it wasn’t actually a bad thing. It was just like in my history. “Oh yeah, I got raped. But I managed to get past that, and now I’m only stronger.” That’s kind of what I see for myself now. I can’t believe I’m comparing my situation to rape, but it’s kind of the same thing. I only see myself getting stronger out of it. As  soon as I get out of it. Anxiety is such a bitch, cause you have no control. What so ever.

So, that was me kind of analyzing my dream! I don’t remember much else from it, really. I seldom remember a total dream. Wish I could, though.

I’m gonna finish with the beauty that is Zooey Deschanel. Cause she deserves to be in the same post as my rape-dream. No, she doesn’t. But I have to have her here anyway.

Dreaming on stilts

Tonight I had an utterly crazy dream. I absolutely love remembering dreams. I was with a friend, and suddenly we were participants in this norwegian thing for teens, where they can perform and somebody goes to nationals and stuff. UKM, it’s called. Jeez, I suck at explaining things. Anyways, we were gonna perform a song. But as we were watching the other participants, I remembered we hadn’t practiced in a number. I panicked, asking her what we should do. She was really indifferent, saying a song we maybe could sing. At the time, my metal cousin were performing Missy Higgins’ Where I Stood. Weird sight.

Then, I got to know my friend had signed us up for individual performances as well. She’d have a show with finger puppets and I, I were going to walk on stilts! Oh yeah, she’s written in the program “Aila on stilts – The athlete!” I panicked again, knowing I couldn’t walk on stilts, and that I’m far, far, far from an athlete. She just shrugged her shoulders. So I ended up on stage, pacing on my stilts so I wouldn’t fall.

Who said dreams weren’t awesome, huh? Not me!