March 26; 10:30AM

I went on an anniversary date with a friend a few days ago. He is a nice man, successful in his own right, and we've remained friends for years even with all of my moving. We decided that, after coffee, we would go to one of the bars down the street and have a few drinks since we rarely ever get to hang out. We had a ton of fun and met some new people visiting from out of town, but he decided to leave before it was too late in the night. He confessed some things to me in parting, revealing truths about his perception of me and of our relationship, which mostly I just found shocking. I had never heard anyone give me such a candid perception of who he or she sees me as, or how I effect their life. It was alot to digest. So, I returned to our little crowd and proceeded to drink. And drink. And drink. That night, I fell asleep just before the break of dawn and jolted out of my slumber at the end of this dream.

I was outside, the sun was shining, the field beyond me was a rich golden yellow. It was beautiful and majestic. I wanted to take it all in, enjoy it fully, allow myself freedom to run around and frolic, but there was a piercing pain in my stomach, shallow beneath my skin. I turned around in search of something, and it immediately was night and I was standing in the front yard of a familiar house. I entered (the home being the residence of a close friend) into a room filled with fictional friends and people that I was very close to. And him.

He appeared in front of me, beautiful in a beam of yellowy-lamplight. His face, pale in olive-toned skin, his dark, narrow eyebrows cradling hollow, black eyes. Though his beauty captivated me, it was his smile that always tore my heartstrings. He smiled when he saw me and the group parted away from him. He was always so graceful and angelic. As I walked over to him, my thoughts raced, my stomach clenched with a stabbing pain; I knew this was the moment. I had to risk the pain, the potential heartache, and let him know how I truly feel about him. Once I reached him, he grabbed me by the waist, looked me in the eyes and said, "I've been waiting for you all along."

Later, we are lying next to each other on a couch, naked, in a nondescript room, and I am tracing the lines on his body. I notice that the pain in my stomach has increased and when I sit up, I find that a large, albino snake has broken through my abdomen and has begun wrapping itself around me.

From this point on, until the very end of the dream, there are frames of action where the snake continues to grow as the evening progresses. My beautiful new boyfriend sticks by me unaware of the monster coiled around my torso. I confess to him that I love him, I always have. I kiss him on his face, on his shoulders, on his chest, bathing him in the affections I have waited so long to give him. However, by the end of the dream the snake is so large and terrifying that I cannot reach him, and am no longer touchable.

When my new love reaches out to touch my face, the snake lunges out and bites him in the ribcage. I wake up to the image of his eyes slowly closing and his body going limp in my grasp.

March 21; 9AM

Think: 1920's pulp adventure fiction

The actions were all portrayed in frames, like a comic book. It had the tone of "Little Shop of Horrors", but less comedy. Set in Chicago, the graphics were of a mysterious plant, something of alien origin, that would grow beneath the homes of common evil-doers (thieves, rapists, embezzlers, etc) and kill them in a way that was apropos to their crime.

I am a private investigator, hired by the State of Illinois to uncover the truths in the mysterious deaths of a rising number of politicians in the metropolis.

Frame 1: I enter the home of a potential victim. A darkened living room and fear surrounds me. Something is not right. I hear a scream from another room.

Frame 2: In the dining room, on the window seat perched a large man in a suit. A vine, greener than any living thing on earth, clutched him as if a device of torture. Certain parts of the plant had thorns that ranged from the size of a pin to pencil-width. Since this politician was known for molestation and sodomy the vine was attempting to slowly torture his whole body so he could experience the pain his own victims felt.

Frame 3: I was able to release him from the grasp of the vine by chopping it up with a machete, but we both knew it would return. My fear was in the idea that now, it was in multiple parts and could become more destructive because of this. He was grateful at the chance to continue living, however I wondered if my heroism was worthy in having saved a rapist and alleged child molester.

Frame 4: The next day, he was dead. The newspaper read that he was strangled, stabbed, and dismembered in his office earlier that morning. I wondered if the plant would avenge me for trying to save him. I wondered if I would forgive myself for not killing him with my own bare hands.

Frame 5: An image of the vine growing beneath my bed.

Frame 6: While asleep, it clutches my ankle with a strength so intense my leg went numb within seconds. But the green vine wasn't grasping me to kill, but to scare me only. In a rush I began to realize that the plant was trying to maintain order and justice by it's own means. It made me see that nature cannot rely on humans to maintain order because we are all driven in some ways by evil intentions. It was then that I realized the ruling force over the plant: Fate.

Dream Quote

I'm currently reading Milan Kundera's "The Unbearable Lightness of Being". In the sixteenth chapter, Tereza (the wife of the protagonist, Tomas) explains the impact her dreams have on her reality.

"The dreams left nothing to be deciphered. The accusation the leveled at Tomas was so clear that his only reaction was to hang his head and stroke her hand without a word.

The dreams were eloquent, but they were also beautiful. That aspect seems to have escaped Freud in his theory of dreams. Dreaming is not merely an act of communication (or coded communication, if you like); it is also an aesthetic activity, a game of the imagination, a game that is a value in itself. Our dreams prove that to imagine-to dream about things that have not happened-is among mankind's deepest needs. Herein lies the danger. If dreams were not beautiful, they would quickly be forgotten. But Tereza kept coming back to her dreams, running through them in her mind, turning them into legends. Tomas lived under the hypnotic spell cast by the excruciating beauty of Tereza's dreams."

Sunday Morning, February 21st

I had a dream while I was in Los Angeles the morning after the Andrew Bird show. The dream felt like a silent film, with no audible dialogue, against a soundtrack of songs by Andrew Bird and was broken up into short vignettes. It is a story about D.

"Quiet, quiet down she said, speaking to the back of his head."

She was telling me to calm down and that everything was going to be fine. I was worried about the time. I'm always worried about time. I was making her rush and she was frustrated with me. She questioned my anxiety, quieted the noise, but she couldn't put out the flames inside.

"Now I'm just another split in your seam; the I in your team."

It all became darkness and it was suffocating. I heard the hollow notes of music playing in the distance, as if on the other end of a long corridor. It was haunting me. He was haunting me. Slowly, a white light grew in the distance.

"I'll do anything you want but I won't be your glass figurine."

She decided she wouldn't do it anymore. No longer was I a person, but morphed, like a Kafkain concept, into an emotional burden. She needed to let go of me but I struggled to be the burden in her heart. Without that, I am nothing.

"'Cause when it comes to misery, when it comes to misery, when it comes to misery no one competes with me."

Without her presence my existence became lifeless. So when strength came to take her away it was all over. The room was bright but the darkness I had become was impenetrable. I was left as a thick, black, hovering cloud lacking a form to inhabit.

"So will you come to burn my effigy? It should keep the flies away. If you long to burn an effigy it should be of a man who's lost his way"

February 14; 10AM

The dreams I have been having the past week are very hazy. Maybe it's anxiety. I've had one recurring theme in about four of my dreams which does not appear frequently for me: flying.

This morning, I was flying over a highway. Trying desperately to win the affections of my stepmother, it was of dire importance that I get to the service on time. I knew that this ability was extraordinary and that I would lose the power to fly once the spark of ambition either blew out or the mission was accomplished. The journey from my car to the church was arduous; flying over mountains, rivers, various lands, and overcoming battles with other flying creatures. Once I made it there, I immediately found a seat while the choir was singing a solemn gospel piece. I looked around at all the people and wondered why they chose to find solace in god, this god, and why I am not able to. I wondered why there needed to be a dark and light. I wanted to fly again. Suddenly, this bitterness bubbled up inside me. It was an enmity that felt like shackles around my wrists and send venom through my veins. The anger paralyzed me. Just then, my stepmom came up to me and she was radiating with happiness, wearing a yellow-striped dress. All of the rage within me halted as she came up to hug me. When she pulled away I looked down at her dress. She was covered in a thick, rich maroon liquid. Blood. Perhaps it was my blood? When she stepped back, I mentioned the chaos on her yellow garment and she looked at herself in horror, then raised her eyes to me and ran off. My shoulders slumped, I exhaled, I felt defeated. I looked down at my shirt and there was not a trace of blood.

January 31; 7:30AM - 11:20AM

This morning I had a dream four times, all with separate endings. It was very mundane and all the characters were fictional, but something very significant came up when I awoke.

It was the bed.

He stared at it for

– how long?

The thoughts rolled in his mind

Of all the emptiness it carried.

The empty people, the cold barren sheets.

What would he do if the emptiness

Lasted forever?

Why would it have to? Yet,

His heart did not seem empty;

Filled to capacity by his companions,

The rapid beating, the pulse

Of their lives within his own being.

Perhaps the only love he’d know would be

The gift of a love stronger than that which he’d settle for

In his bed.

Maybe that was all he ever needed.

January 25; Sometime between 5AM and 7AM

The recess above the casino was hollow and black against the red and gold of the rooms below. I was crawling in the attic of the casino on iron grating, which served as the ceiling of the room I was above. My instructions from my boss were to observe the poker games being played below, taking note of anyone that was cheating. There was one character in particular that seemed very suspicious and I watched him intently, following his hands, eyes, and the movements of his fingers. I noticed he would take a long time showing his hand in the end, doing alot of fidgeting with his legs. What I discovered was that he would hide stolen poker chips under the table and, if he were to reveal a winning hand, would slide his foot out of his loafer and grab extra poker chips with his feet, placing them on the table with his cards without the other players noticing. Just as he is about to make his move, I punched through the grating underneath me and fell on top of him. I yelled out to expose his trickery, but he picked me up and threw me across the table, moving around all the cards in play. As I slid across the table, the man who hired me rolled under the table to the other side in order to dodge my fall. When I was getting back up, I saw my bosses cards and found out he had a stash of Kings in a small crevice underneath the tabletop. I yell out, "You made me a fool!" just as I see him reach towards his belt and grab a revolver. Slinging his arm, he shoots three times. I try and duck from the shots, but as I slowly wake up from sleep I feel three pulses in my neck, and I'm curled up in the fetal position in my bed, my entire body shaking from tension.

January 22; 7:04AM

The only light in the room was filtered by gold curtains which hung loosely against the window. We were tangled in white sheets from the love-making we just finished. He started kissing me with apprehension, softly mouthing inaudible words as we kissed; Jumbled words that formed sentences, with sound, evolving into speech, describing all the things about me he could not love.

"I can't love you anymore. Your body doesn't feel right."

I continued kissing him hungrily, trying to make his words go away. Instead of stifling his comments, they began infiltrating my mind, making me see myself as he had begun seeing me. Then I could only see my mouth, my loathsome mouth, that held the last memories I had of the man that once filled the empty space on my bed.

I woke up and went to class.

January 18; 6:18AM

The beginning of this dream is very hazy, however I remember that it began in the forest just around sunset. It was very pretty and the colors I remember most are orange and green. I was with my friend, D. This beginning part had something to do with her escaping, although I'm not sure why or what from.

What I remember vividly is the final scene of the dream. It began with us running through a field, just around twilight, towards an abandoned house which, in the dream, was where she lived. The whole scene was very blue, and I remember the moon rising in the sky to my left no matter what direction I faced. Once we reached the house, I chased her into various rooms, passing through opaque beams of white moonlight flooding in through the windows. She ran into the bathroom, dingy and rusted, and jumped in the bathtub against the faucet. We sat there for awhile, not saying anything. She spoke the first words, "When the water runs you know I'm gone". Her words fell dead on me, not quite understanding, so I asked her to explain what she meant. She replies, "I can't" then her expression falls flat. As I adjust my position in the tub, I notice the rising water level, now up to my waist.

January 14; 9:10AM

I wonder what bees symbolize?

I had a dream in two parts, the latter being the only one that was interesting. In the second part, I walked into a shed that was swarmed with bees, although I did not realize they were there prior to entering the building. They never attacked me, however one landed on my right hand, which is interesting because I'm right-handed. I was trying to flick it off my hand, very violently until I woke up.

I hope it means there is good fortune in my future.

...Or I'm going to meet a rich man.

January 11; 6AM

Setting: A high school in the 1980's

Protagonist: Me

I wasn't a very "cool" kid, but I did always know what the cool kids did; They went to the nightclub. This one in particular was called "Night Shine" and it was adjoining the school building and had only been open a few years. Night Shine was the hottest thing in town for high schoolers and on Fridays, that's where everyone would be. That is, everyone except for me. Instead, I would spend my time in the library reading literature and historical texts. One day, I stumbled upon a book that referenced the history of the high school and discovered that the space Night Shine occupied had once been a biology and research lab. Nothing I found, however, mentioned what this lab contained or why it was shut down. In fact, all the documentation stopped at a certain time, as if it just disappeared. I decided to do some research of my own. I gathered all the information I could regarding the research lab and any photos that corresponded to the articles I found. One image that intrigued me was one of a column of butterflies that were strung together on single strings of thin fishing wire. They were hung from the ceiling and formed a ring around a sort of pillar of light.

The following night, I started looking around the nightclub knowing that it would be really slow on a school night. According to the pictures I had, there was a large portion of the old laboratory that was sealed off by a wall to the nightclub, which blended into the adjacent walls. However, the room did not extend into any other rooms surrounding it either. At some point, I found a way to get into the space by crawling into one of the air vents that led right into the room.

Once inside, I found an entire research laboratory that had been completely abandoned by the high school decades prior. From what I could tell, some of the equipment had recently been used. Since it was so dark, and I wasn't sure if anyone saw me crawl in, I decided to gather as much information as I could, pulling together books and writing logs that I could go over once I left.

The dream skips here and I am back at the nightclub later in the week, on a Friday just after a pep rally. It is packed, and for some reason I'm carrying my bike on my back, like a backpack, making it very difficult for me to get into the venue. It switches to third person here, and I am not able to understand why I'm so anxious to get back in or what my motives are. Once I'm back in the laboratory, I notice that someone has walled up a part of it that was not walled up prior, but the mortar was still wet so I attempt to break it down. In doing so, the other walls that supported it crumbled and the crowd in the nightclub panicked, causing a stampede out the door. All the chemicals from the aquariums spilled out causing crowd lagging behind to pass out. Once they cleared out all the people, I went back in the nightclub and the only image I remember is the column of light with the strings of butterflies, now exposed due to the columns in the club falling apart.

What I discovered in the conclusion of the dream was that some official in the school was trying to create the perfect creature that would take over mankind and rule the earth. He or she was continuing an experiment started years prior, where they mutated animals that were to be extinct and extracted a poison from the butterflies that could kill thousands of people at once.

The last scene of the dream was of a boy, set today, in the same school. The whole dream was some sort of connected memory from the protagonist to this adolescent. It ended with the boy standing in front of the old, broken sign that read "Night Shine".

My Statement of Purpose

This is the year I start writing. As an English student (and an aspiring Creative Writing Master's student), good writing is pivotal to the understanding of Literature and argument. I am terrible at it. Have you ever looked at the words on the page you've written and become nauseated? I have.

The goal in this blog is to better my creative writing skills by keeping note of my dreams. This may seem odd, but trust me, it's going to be more arduous than you think! One must think of handling perspectives, cogent character development, crystalizing historical background, and juggling descriptions of "dream-logic" (that which only exists to reason in the subconscious of the individual).

So, to any of you out there reading this, welcome to my own little world.