First time sleeptexting with my friend Sarah. I don't remember this at all.
Me: I don't know what's gotten into you. We're going to get caught. We'll be thrown out forever!
Sarah: No, we wont!! I don't know why you get so nervous..
Me: We are not supposed to go in the Trial Catacombs until our eighth or ninth year! It's too dangerous.
Sarah: Catacombs, Shmatacombs!! And besides, danger is my middle name.
Me: Your middle name gets me in trouble a lot. Who knows what kind of evil things live in here. I heard the Catacombs themselves are living and can see into your mind.
Sarah: I heard about gremlins and goblins but not the Catacombs being alive. I think we'll be fine though, I have my wand!
Me: You're an idiot. This is too serious for you to be joking around. The whole point of this place is to confront you with your weaknesses. you might notice that it's not called the Fun Catacombs, or the Cozy Catacombs.
Sarah: What weaknesses could they possibly confront me with? I don't believe in this whole -the Catacombs live business anyway.
Me: Did you hear that? Was that a lion roaring in the distance? It came from over there.
Sarah: No, I think it must just be some echos...from something...wait, are you afraid of frightening, ferocious felines?
Me: I knew you would be the death of me someday. Well, at least we are here together. Let's try not to die, ok?
Sarah: We are NOT going to die. We can conquer anything together, so get rid of that negative attitude.
Way to be bold, Sarah! haha
Honestly, I probably wouldn't mind paying a visit to the Cozy Catacombs.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Dreams: Nightmares of the Almost normal variety
I think my subconscious is expressing the stress I feel in my waking life right now. I've been having a lot of very dream-like dreams. The kinds of dreams everyone has -in which you are yourself, with themes taken from your recent daily life. That's rather unusual for me.
I dreamed my teacher, Mr. Simmons, was teaching us the Korean language. "Don't you know? Most of your repertoire is in Korean, Lizzy. You have to be fluent. I can't believe you haven't' figured this out by now."
I dreamed that I was cast as the lead in the opera at school. Two days before rehearsal started, I broke my leg. I asked my director, very casually: "So, what would you say if I suddenly...I don't know, broke a limb or something."
He said, very seriously: "Your role would be taken from you, and you would be expelled from this institute, of course."
So, I went to the doctor and got myself a walking cast. I wore very baggy pants over the cast and tried to hide the fact that my leg was broken. I was in a lot of pain, walking around in rehearsals, but I tried my hardest not to limp and give myself away.
Last night I dreamed that I was sent to a mental institution in Germany. It was somewhere in the Black Forest. Everyone spoke only German, and I could not understand what they were saying. I was a high security patient, but I did not know why I was there.
It turned out that I was indeed insane. I only thought I was an American girl, and that I didn't speak German. The truth was that I was a German girl, and that I only thought I couldn't speak German, when really I could.
You don't need to be a first year psych student to be able to analyze these dreams. They're pretty clear, and not very fun to dream.
I dreamed my teacher, Mr. Simmons, was teaching us the Korean language. "Don't you know? Most of your repertoire is in Korean, Lizzy. You have to be fluent. I can't believe you haven't' figured this out by now."
I dreamed that I was cast as the lead in the opera at school. Two days before rehearsal started, I broke my leg. I asked my director, very casually: "So, what would you say if I suddenly...I don't know, broke a limb or something."
He said, very seriously: "Your role would be taken from you, and you would be expelled from this institute, of course."
So, I went to the doctor and got myself a walking cast. I wore very baggy pants over the cast and tried to hide the fact that my leg was broken. I was in a lot of pain, walking around in rehearsals, but I tried my hardest not to limp and give myself away.
Last night I dreamed that I was sent to a mental institution in Germany. It was somewhere in the Black Forest. Everyone spoke only German, and I could not understand what they were saying. I was a high security patient, but I did not know why I was there.
It turned out that I was indeed insane. I only thought I was an American girl, and that I didn't speak German. The truth was that I was a German girl, and that I only thought I couldn't speak German, when really I could.
You don't need to be a first year psych student to be able to analyze these dreams. They're pretty clear, and not very fun to dream.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Dream: Placeholder Wife
I was not a character in this dream. I watched it in 3rd person, like a film.
I dreamed about a man of great wealth in the nineteenth century who took a pretty young woman as his wife. He was kind to her, and always treated her well. She came to live with him on his vast and beautiful estates and was given almost everything she could want. There were many servants working on the estate: kitchen staff, gardening staff, housekeeping staff. They were very loyal to the wealthy man. Though they were always kind to the young woman, they always made sure to maintain a professional distance despite her attempts to become closer to them.
Something was amiss. She sometimes caught her husband looking strangely at her when he thought she wasn't looking. The servants sometimes exchanged glances behind her back.
When she was brought to live in the estate, she was told not to go in a certain wing of the main house, by the back garden. The wealthy man told her that it had been his father's study. He wanted to keep it untouched in memoriam.
Packages were delivered to the estate every week. She never could never seem to find out their contents, even though she tried questioning the servants.
Her husband, over time, started to grow distant from her.
One day she decided to break into the forbidden rooms. She discovered a beautiful sun-filled bedroom and joining chambers. The walls were freshly painted white, and the furniture was painted with flowers. There were two armoirs filled with a woman's expensive wardrobe. Above the bed hung a portrait of a pretty young woman she had never seen before.
Her husband discovers her there several hours later, sitting on the bed, crying in confusion. At first he is angry and leaves for several minutes. But the wealthy man had always had an even temper and a reasonable nature, and he returned to the sun-filled room and told his young wife the truth.
He had always been gifted with the power to glimpse the future. He could not control it. It simply flashed, unbidden, before his eyes every once in a while. It was unclear how, but his staff of servants were in on this power. They were unnaturally devoted to the wealthy man, and had seen his future as well. They knew that the wealthy man would marry a woman named Emily, who was his one true love.
They also knew that the wealthy man would only meet Emily through the untimely but natural death of his first wife. He must marry this young girl. She would die. Then his real wife would appear.
His young wife listens patiently, crying silently throughout her wealthy husband's explanation. He told her now that she knew the truth, she had two options. She may leave and disgrace herself in divorce and return to her previous life of poverty. Or she may stay, living a comfortable life, knowing of her immanent death, knowing that she is paving the way for Emily's arrival.
I dreamed about a man of great wealth in the nineteenth century who took a pretty young woman as his wife. He was kind to her, and always treated her well. She came to live with him on his vast and beautiful estates and was given almost everything she could want. There were many servants working on the estate: kitchen staff, gardening staff, housekeeping staff. They were very loyal to the wealthy man. Though they were always kind to the young woman, they always made sure to maintain a professional distance despite her attempts to become closer to them.
Something was amiss. She sometimes caught her husband looking strangely at her when he thought she wasn't looking. The servants sometimes exchanged glances behind her back.
When she was brought to live in the estate, she was told not to go in a certain wing of the main house, by the back garden. The wealthy man told her that it had been his father's study. He wanted to keep it untouched in memoriam.
Packages were delivered to the estate every week. She never could never seem to find out their contents, even though she tried questioning the servants.
Her husband, over time, started to grow distant from her.
One day she decided to break into the forbidden rooms. She discovered a beautiful sun-filled bedroom and joining chambers. The walls were freshly painted white, and the furniture was painted with flowers. There were two armoirs filled with a woman's expensive wardrobe. Above the bed hung a portrait of a pretty young woman she had never seen before.
Her husband discovers her there several hours later, sitting on the bed, crying in confusion. At first he is angry and leaves for several minutes. But the wealthy man had always had an even temper and a reasonable nature, and he returned to the sun-filled room and told his young wife the truth.
He had always been gifted with the power to glimpse the future. He could not control it. It simply flashed, unbidden, before his eyes every once in a while. It was unclear how, but his staff of servants were in on this power. They were unnaturally devoted to the wealthy man, and had seen his future as well. They knew that the wealthy man would marry a woman named Emily, who was his one true love.
They also knew that the wealthy man would only meet Emily through the untimely but natural death of his first wife. He must marry this young girl. She would die. Then his real wife would appear.
His young wife listens patiently, crying silently throughout her wealthy husband's explanation. He told her now that she knew the truth, she had two options. She may leave and disgrace herself in divorce and return to her previous life of poverty. Or she may stay, living a comfortable life, knowing of her immanent death, knowing that she is paving the way for Emily's arrival.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Sleep Habit
One thing that comes up a lot in my dreams/ sleep activities is smoking.
I have never smoked a cigarette in my life. I never did as a teenager, and it's an impossibility now that I'm a singer. No one in my immediate family smokes around me. None of my close friends smoke. I've never even felt a real desire to try it.
But, I smoke a lot in my dreams. Especially lucid dreams. As soon as I realize I am dreaming, my first thoughts are often "Oh! I'm dreaming. Thank god. Where are my cigarettes?" I will suddenly have always had cigarettes and a lighter in my pocket and I get to smoke. I love how it feels in my dream. It's like taking a breath of extremely thick fresh air. It feels amazing in my lungs. O_o
A rather weird thing that I've done a few times in the past couple years is miming the process of smoking while sleeping. A few times now, I have sat up, patted my 'pockets', and mimed the whole process of smoking, with nothing actually in my hand. I bring out my 'cigarettes', my 'lighter', I hit the pack against my hand, I pull one out. I light up. I smoke. People have seen me do this. I remember doing it, vaguely, (except in my memory, I'm really holding a cigarette.)
I have no idea what this means. It's a strange theme to have reoccurring like this. It probably has something to do with supressed desires or some nonsense like that. But why smoking if I have no desire for it?
I have never smoked a cigarette in my life. I never did as a teenager, and it's an impossibility now that I'm a singer. No one in my immediate family smokes around me. None of my close friends smoke. I've never even felt a real desire to try it.
But, I smoke a lot in my dreams. Especially lucid dreams. As soon as I realize I am dreaming, my first thoughts are often "Oh! I'm dreaming. Thank god. Where are my cigarettes?" I will suddenly have always had cigarettes and a lighter in my pocket and I get to smoke. I love how it feels in my dream. It's like taking a breath of extremely thick fresh air. It feels amazing in my lungs. O_o
A rather weird thing that I've done a few times in the past couple years is miming the process of smoking while sleeping. A few times now, I have sat up, patted my 'pockets', and mimed the whole process of smoking, with nothing actually in my hand. I bring out my 'cigarettes', my 'lighter', I hit the pack against my hand, I pull one out. I light up. I smoke. People have seen me do this. I remember doing it, vaguely, (except in my memory, I'm really holding a cigarette.)
I have no idea what this means. It's a strange theme to have reoccurring like this. It probably has something to do with supressed desires or some nonsense like that. But why smoking if I have no desire for it?
Lost dreams
The problem with being too busy to update the dreams that I have, is that I forget them. It's no wonder I can't remember most of the dreams I had before I started this blog, even though I was having many vivid and detailed dreams every night. Dreams just don't stick in your mind unless you pay attention to them specifically. It's as if they were created in your subconscious, and there is only a small window of opportunity to advance them to your conscious mind before they are lost in the subconscious forever.
One dream concept I remember from a few nights ago. I was crying feathers. I was crying about something very important, (of course, I forget why now,) and small black feathers were coming out of my tear ducts. They were about an inch long, and I had to pull them out with my fingers. It was a very much a texture dream. It wasn't creepy while I was dreaming it, but it is a bit now as I look back on it.
One dream concept I remember from a few nights ago. I was crying feathers. I was crying about something very important, (of course, I forget why now,) and small black feathers were coming out of my tear ducts. They were about an inch long, and I had to pull them out with my fingers. It was a very much a texture dream. It wasn't creepy while I was dreaming it, but it is a bit now as I look back on it.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Sleeptexting: Virtues
I sent two sleeptexts last night. I was thinking that I hadn't sleeptexted since I read that article because it validated it too much, and now my subconscious didn't feel the urge anymore. I guess not.
I sent this to Lexi at about 1am:
"You are only allowed ten government issue virtues. I wouldn't waste my time with mercy."
Later that night I sent this to Alicia:
"And you? Which ones have you chosen?"
It's kind of a creepy concept.
Neither of them responded. They were both asleep. Well, all three of us were, really.
I sent this to Lexi at about 1am:
"You are only allowed ten government issue virtues. I wouldn't waste my time with mercy."
Later that night I sent this to Alicia:
"And you? Which ones have you chosen?"
It's kind of a creepy concept.
Neither of them responded. They were both asleep. Well, all three of us were, really.
Friday, September 2, 2011
Proof!
I'm not crazy! Psychologists are no longer saying that sleep texting is impossible!
Take a look:
Of course, the subject matter of most of my sleeptexts is still very...odd. I'm looking forward to hearing about more studies done on this subject. Perhaps I'll keep my ears open for some sleep studies done in my area.
It made me laugh when it says you can prevent sleeptexting by keeping your phone away from you when you sleep. I think because I'm also a super-functioning Sleepwalker/sleep-phone-go-getter, that doesn't work for me.
Take a look:
WEWS News: Texting while sleeping is new phenomenon
I'm not alone! I'm not crazy! Hooray!Of course, the subject matter of most of my sleeptexts is still very...odd. I'm looking forward to hearing about more studies done on this subject. Perhaps I'll keep my ears open for some sleep studies done in my area.
It made me laugh when it says you can prevent sleeptexting by keeping your phone away from you when you sleep. I think because I'm also a super-functioning Sleepwalker/sleep-phone-go-getter, that doesn't work for me.
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