A whole lotta naked

17 Nov

I’ve never really decided what I think about dreams. It’s one of the great mysteries. Are they representations of unconscious desires and motivations? Left-over neuron-firing gobbledygook? The brain’s way of decompressing and discarding useless images and ideas from your day? It’s one of those things we’ll probably never know for sure.Sometimes, dreams appear pretty spot-on. I’m never sure if I’m reading too much into them, though. Like perhaps it’s just one of those things like a tarot card reading, where you can see what you want to see. A sort of self-administered free association or Rorschach test.

In my dream last night, I was planning a large party at a super-swank hotel for family and friends. It was a costume party, and I was definitely really specific about everyone’s costumes – in fact, I assigned everyone to what they were supposed to be and provided them with where to purchase said assigned costume. Yes, I’m that much fun when I’m awake, too.

I had everything set up in a large ballroom that was decorated like a forest. Twilight, large trees casting suspicious shadows, moss twisting and falling from branches. I vaguely get the feeling it was supposed to be some sort of A Midsummer’s Night Dream party, though that could definitely be awake me just trying to make sense of the odd decorating choices of sleeping me.

The party was not going well and it hadn’t even started yet. No one had showed up. I knew everyone was in the hotel. I had received their confirmations and assumed everyone was just getting ready as we were also all staying the night in the hotel. I was confused as to what was taking so long. I began to wander through the hotel, opening door after door looking for the people who were supposed to be at my party. I didn’t find a single person, party-goer or no, and was getting a sort of post-apocalyptic, creepy feeling. Dozens and dozens of doors opening up on empty rooms.

I finally stumbled across a dining room full of people having their own, clearly more successful party. Just as I also realized I had not had time to put on my costume and was completely naked. I ran through the room of people, desperately searching for some sort of cover-up. A jacket, a table cloth. Hell, a plate? No one would give me anything. Everyone just kept staring. Silently. No one was even laughing. And lets face it, someone should at least be laughing at my pain here. But everyone was eerily quiet, stoic and unmoving. I ran like hell to get out of there, tripped and woke up as I was falling.

God, unconscious mind, you are sooo lame. Are you trying to tell me I’m feeling vulnerable and searching for something? I definitely didn’t need an elaborate dream party to figure that out. Or is my brain just purging my super fantastic fairy-themed party idea because I know everyone would just ruin it by not showing up?

It’s hard to accept dreams are absolutely nothing, but it’s difficult too for me to believe there’s always some sort of latent content to interpret. Especially when I have dreams like the one I had the other week, where I went to go buy Husband a Lions jersey from Robert Irvine, who apparently left Food Network just to open an NFL shop in the apartment below mine.

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