Blogathon for Tricia, Hour Twelve: Dreams
Jan. 9th, 2010 03:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
slammerkinbabeNow I'm running late because of the Photo Struggle of Doom, so this post is going to be brief. It is also probably not going to be very interesting to many people, but it is something I feel strongly about, and so I must speak my mind:
People, I love hearing about your dreams. Why are you always hating on mine?
I know, I know, it's not just my dreams that you hate hearing about. You hate hearing about everyone's dreams. If you don't know what I'm talking about, then I'm pretty sure you're in the distinct minority of people who have never complained, upon reading someone else's reflections on a night's past dreaming, "You know, the only thing more boring than listening to other people describe their dreams is..." Some people finish with "...listening to other people interpret their dreams." Some people finish with "...oh, wait, I'm sorry, there isn't anything." I'm pretty sure that none of the people who say these things have ever watched Mother Angelica say the rosary on Catholic TV. But perhaps I digress.
I'm quite serious about dreams, though. I honestly think that dreams are completely fascinating -- all of them. Yours, mine, whoever's. The symbolism inherent in them consistently delights me, and the weird, eerie quality that's everpresent in even the most ordinary dreams just hooks me solid.
I love analyzing my own dreams not just because they give me insight into what's going on in my head that I'd been trying to avoid looking at, but because they give me the sense that there is one absolutely killer storyteller hiding out in my brain somewhere -- I'd love to be half the storyteller that Freud's little homunculus is. And I love analyzing your dreams because -- well, partly because I'm nosy -- but also because I love hearing from your little storyteller too. There's just something completely magical about dreams. And to all of you guys who complain about it when you see someone make a dream-analysis post or whatever -- how can you not be entranced?
I don't understand. But I'll say one thing: this post is not working out for me at the present moment. This post is making me want to go to bed, and find a dream, and listen, enraptured, to the story it has to tell me.
And then also I want to sleep for another ten or eleven hours after that.
Unwise choice of post, Kylie.
And yet we soldier on.
This is the hour twelve post of my blogathon for my aunt Tricia, who is dying of end-stage ovarian cancer and whose family is being hit with a whole lot of bills that they can't afford alone as a result. Donations can be made at the link given above. A number of topics are still unclaimed and can be bought for $5 or more.
People, I love hearing about your dreams. Why are you always hating on mine?
I know, I know, it's not just my dreams that you hate hearing about. You hate hearing about everyone's dreams. If you don't know what I'm talking about, then I'm pretty sure you're in the distinct minority of people who have never complained, upon reading someone else's reflections on a night's past dreaming, "You know, the only thing more boring than listening to other people describe their dreams is..." Some people finish with "...listening to other people interpret their dreams." Some people finish with "...oh, wait, I'm sorry, there isn't anything." I'm pretty sure that none of the people who say these things have ever watched Mother Angelica say the rosary on Catholic TV. But perhaps I digress.
I'm quite serious about dreams, though. I honestly think that dreams are completely fascinating -- all of them. Yours, mine, whoever's. The symbolism inherent in them consistently delights me, and the weird, eerie quality that's everpresent in even the most ordinary dreams just hooks me solid.
I love analyzing my own dreams not just because they give me insight into what's going on in my head that I'd been trying to avoid looking at, but because they give me the sense that there is one absolutely killer storyteller hiding out in my brain somewhere -- I'd love to be half the storyteller that Freud's little homunculus is. And I love analyzing your dreams because -- well, partly because I'm nosy -- but also because I love hearing from your little storyteller too. There's just something completely magical about dreams. And to all of you guys who complain about it when you see someone make a dream-analysis post or whatever -- how can you not be entranced?
I don't understand. But I'll say one thing: this post is not working out for me at the present moment. This post is making me want to go to bed, and find a dream, and listen, enraptured, to the story it has to tell me.
And then also I want to sleep for another ten or eleven hours after that.
Unwise choice of post, Kylie.
And yet we soldier on.
This is the hour twelve post of my blogathon for my aunt Tricia, who is dying of end-stage ovarian cancer and whose family is being hit with a whole lot of bills that they can't afford alone as a result. Donations can be made at the link given above. A number of topics are still unclaimed and can be bought for $5 or more.
