Picasso Dream

Had totally awesome dream in which I met and conversed with Pablo Picasso! The older version of Picasso. I don't know how it occurred but all of a sudden he just showed up in a black car with a chauffeur. He asked me to join him so I did and we went to some market where he purchased six sausage and salami logs. He spoke mostly Spanish so I only understood half of what he said. He had me carry the logs while he spoke and looked through one of my sketchbooks. He was silent for a while then laughed and smiled as he flipped through each page. Then we came upon his estate which was a large beige/white stucco looking mansion. We climbed a staircase to the main entrance and I watched him slowly walk inside. I handed him the logs and he smiled then said, "Oh. It was your Uncle. Your Uncle thought I should meet with you." And with that he disappeared into the mansion.
I tried to follow him in but when I got inside there was no sign of him. I saw a nude model sitting on a large sofa in the living room area. She looked like she was waiting for someone. I saw a dog running around and a boy chasing him around the entire first floor. I then went up to the second floor and peered into one of the rooms, a couple was fast asleep on a comfy bed. I didn't know how to get out from there so that's when I woke up.

One Million

Had difficulty sleeping last night due to a slight cold. But also dreamt that I was composing nearly one million stories in my head. I saw groupings of words form sentences and sentences form paragraphs and paragraphs form whole novels. It felt overwhelming but engaging nonetheless.

Dream

I Dream Them

At two o'clock in the morning I do not know what is left to be taken advantage of. If I poke my eyeball with a graphite pencil will it bleed right away or will it simply fester for some time before it explodes? I lay carelessly on a stack of books and sort through the images floating in and around my head.

If I were a lunatic I believe some things would be easier to tolerate. I often traverse the many continents of my subconscious world. There are many things I ignore and many things that humanity ignores.

We are not machines but we think we are. We are not hollow beings without emotion. We absorb the good and the bad because they aid us in our sociological development.

At two o'clock in the morning I do battle with some impending insecurity. It makes a mockery of me, perniciously. Now, dreams are made for dreamers and I dream them.

Superman Dream

Had amazing dream last night. I was with some friends about to watch a movie then one of them asked me questions about some French writer I've never heard of. When I couldn't answer them he began to shout at me hysterically. Then I shouted at him and punched him extremely hard. Next thing I knew I was running outside and somehow I began to fly up into the sky like Superman! It was great! Eventually two guys dressed in black came after me, they could fly too but not as fast as me. I dove between buildings and bridges quite easily. Then I accidentally smashed into a bridge. But I was able to repair it by using my laser eyes to weld the steel back together. After that I continued flying onward and upward.

And that is when I awoke.

Blue Star Girl

Wow. I had a seriously sexy dream. I had become a very beautiful girl with tattoos and multi-colored hair. I was me but not me. Everyone was attracted to me/her. Even I could not take my eyes off of me/her. I got the sense that she/I had had many love affairs. She/I loved to dance erotically and get people riled up as much as possible. Her body was practically flawless. A row of blue star tattoos ran down her left hip and leg. They accentuated her curves very nicely.
The dream ended when some less attractive woman ran up to me/her and admitted to falling in love with me/her. The woman was crying a lot. Nothing else happened after that. I woke up then knew I had to write about it.

Hmmm. Fascinating.

Slept

Slept

When I was asleep it didn't feel like I was asleep. Maybe that's the whole point of it. The drool that would excessively moisten my pillow seemed to have a very real purpose. And I suppose it did.

I would close my eyes and count backwards from one hundred. It proved to be only somewhat effective. Minutes later they'd shoot open and then I'd be reminded of the complexities of reality.

Isn't it fascinating how none of us have ever been taught how to sleep? It is strictly intuitive. Well... for most of us it is intuitive. Everyone knows how to sleep or is at least familiar with the concept of sleep.

And the resulting effect from sleep is just as intuitive; the dream state. Therein lies an even greater mystery.