Once upon a time, far away, I was deeply rooted in a belief that dreams were some sort of "cosmic message service" that subtly nudged you towards wherever the hell it was you were supposed to be. I know, it's a fantastical idea, but I was younger and way too whimsical. Now that I have at least one foot firmly planted here on Earth, I realize that I have no idea what dreams really are, but I'm damn sure what they aren't.
Dreams are not some guiding force, swerving you this way and that, giving you secrets from beyond. Dreams are not so cut and dry that they can be instantly divined, either. I own at least three different books, calling themselves "Dream Dictionaries", claiming to be the definitive translation to all things slumber. Bullshit! Let's lay out an example: the Dreamers Dictionary defines a large body of water, seem in a dream, represents sexuality. Hm, we'll ignore the vague, one word definition and concentrate on why this is all a fucking farce. What happens if I'm terrified of water? That sure as hell wouldn't represent sexuality to me at all. I guess I'm just too much of a dumb shit to realize that it's representing my sexuality? Oh damn, maybe I'm terrified ... of my sexuality! That's it! I'm gay! ... see? All bullshit. (Take that, Penn & Teller!)
Short of never sleeping again, there's only one solution to my sleepy situation: come to terms with my dreams. Who knows, mayhap it'll be a sane and rational conversation? "Brain, we need to talk ... maybe you should take a seat. Once or twice a week you give me these ... dreams, and well, I don't like 'em. Knock it off, bitch!" I'm a content person, for the most part, and I'm an intelligent adult (again, for the most part) so I cannot fathom why I still have childish dreams about fairytale romances and finding love. I know that I can't control the content of my dreams, but I loathe the fact that my dreams are comprised of such a mushy load of crap. I blame Hollywood.
No, really. Hollywood. Pushing that romance novel bullshit on us at every turn. Perfectly functioning couples break up every single day because of 'Chick Flicks'. Ladies, you wanna know why men hate those movies? It's not because they don't have feelings, it's because those movies are vapid, inane, and just plain old fucking stupid. That shit doesn't happen! There is no such thing as that perfect moment where all of the pieces fall into place and he says just the right thing. Why the hell are you gonna leave a perfectly good man, or woman, because there might be someone else out there? That shit isn't real! It's in a movie for a reason, you dipshit. If you're in a relationship and you happen to meet someone better, well que sera, sera. Shit happens. But, don't sit there and pine away and wonder "what if"... morons.
Ahhh, I feel better. I hope you do, too. No? Need a hug? How about a kitty?!
"Cats are cats . . . the world over!
These intelligent, peace-loving, four-footed friends - who are without prejudice, without hate, without greed - may someday teach us something." -- James Mackintosh Qwilleran
