I didn't pull an all-nighter or anything - more like I'd kind of doze off for an hour, wake up suddenly, and take two more before I managed to get to sleep again. With all these short naps being constantly interrupted, I'm having the strangest dreams. That's odd enough on it's own, as I literally went for years on end without ever remembering a single dream, sleeping so lightly that I wondered if I even dreamed at all. Now, I usually have one a month, and even then it's fuzzy. But lately I'm having them a few times a week, and several a night when I do.
And not a single one of them are ever good. At best, I dream something bizarre, something that makes little sense. At worst, I die...and perhaps that is significant on it's own, as the popular belief is that you can't die in your dreams. Never any sexy dreams. Never any funny ones. Rarely anything fun or cool or interesting. Always about pain and suffering and other unpleasantness.
I remember in one, I pushed up the sleeve to show someone my left arm. Wasn't anyone that I saw very regularly but a friend that I felt fairly close to...didn't see their face, but it could be a Bama classmate or someone at Miso that I don't get to see regularly, or perhaps a friend-of-a-friend that I'm on fairly good terms with. Anyways, my left arm was covered in nasty wounds that looked like bullet-holes. All purple and scarred up and everything, but old enough not to be open and bleeding. Kind of like a half dozen little dents or something. They were sensitive to the touch, of course, but despite them hurting I was acting like they weren't no big deal. Wasn't even an act, really...to me, it was just about the same as a skinned knee or something. The friend I was with, naturally, kind of freaked out. Didn't panic, but was noticably worried and upset, and didn't know what to do.
In another one, I was hot. I can't remember anything else, but I was sweating buckets. Besides the sweltering heat, the air was thick and heavy like you'd imagine in a rainforest or jungle or something. I don't remember anyone else being there, or even what I was doing. I don't think I was doing much at all, really. Just walking around, going about my business and trying to survive.
Third one had me in what looked kind of like my dorm room bathroom from college, but not exactly because the door was to my right instead of directly behind me. I had been fighting a lot as of late...don't remember who or why, but I felt sore and bruised, the same kind of tired you get right after a tough workout, football game, or fistfight. I was looking at my face for some reason, kind of like how you do when you're searching for pimples, but I think I was just checking out the bruises instead. Suddenly, I realized one of my teeth were loose, opened my mouth, and with my fingers ripped out one of my bottom front teeth. Big John was in the room directly across from the bathroom (which in reality would be my room, but it was his in the dream). He chuckled, and responded with the Fight Club quote "Hey, even the Mona Lisa's falling apart." I can't say that it was funny, but it sure was fitting.
The only one that I didn't get hurt in (physically) was one where all of a sudden, my Aunt Joyce died. Mom came in and told me...didn't hear exactly what happened, but it was something sudden and unexpected. Like she just collapsed and died on the spot or something. Reminded me a lot of what happened to my Uncle Timmie in real life...too much so, to be honest, except that I was told about it in person instead of over the phone.
I think that's all from last night, though I've had several similar dreams off and on the past week or two.
Ugh, so damn exhausted that I can hardly type. I better go try to catch up on what I missed last night.