Last night I dreamt a whole bunch, as usual the past few months (it is non-stop behind-the-eyelids action lately), but this one was finally a good dream! YAY!
I was looking after lots and lots of tiny newborn kittens, and their motherkits, when I realised I had to leave immediately to get to uni. I drove straight there, noticing on the way that one of the motherkits had cheekily managed to stow away in the car.
Snap to me being at uni, sitting through some very bizarre lectures. In one, a distinguished gentleman was talking of the differences between the many dimensions of the universe, with a special focus on one particular dimension in which every human had an accompanying floating chibi who followed him or her about everywhere. While humans could travel between dimensions, chibis could not really. For example, if a human with a chibi attempted to come to our dimension, the chibi would follow, then last a few seconds before its molecules dissolved into the closest representations they had on our plane (which in most cases were water and vodka), and it exploded.
My next lecture was a dramatic performance in which everyone was dressed as a cat, which I was excited about, however I suddenly realised that I had callously left the motherkit in the car this whole time. I was consumed with anxiety that she would overheat and die. I had to get up and leave the performance immediately! It was then, though, that I noticed I was naked. As long as I remained seated no one would care, but I knew the minute I got up and walked nakedly out, everyone would think me very odd.
I woke up and felt so happy that my dream had been a good one and not something that lingered misery all morning. I was telling it to Brenton when he said, “You put way too much credence in your dreams. You’re obsessed.”
It’s true. I am obsessed with myself ^_^
It fits with the journalling, I guess.. I don’t want to forget anything ever in my entire life, because then it’s like it never happened. So I do like to tell him my dreams, because it helps me remember them. I also tell him my bad ones, though, even though I know it’s not necessarily such a great idea to remember them. But that’s because they upset me and telling them makes them feel more unreal and silly and it helps me to not be upset.
Either way, he will be told. I bet he’s just jealous of my rich inner world.