Strange Dreams

Last night I dreamed that I was living in my childhood home with -- among other people -- Steve Carrell and Ricky Gervais, and Carrell was behaving dangerously: he was lying around on my father's recliner shooting up, carelessly, and moaning about how he was depressed and his life was a wreck and he was a failure. "This guy gets everything, and I get nothing," he said, pointing -- strangely enough -- at Gervais. "That's not true at all!" I said. "You've got a lot of stuff going for you! People really like you. I actually saw Dan in Real Life, man, and it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. You're really popular!" Meanwhile Carrell would do things like accidentally dropping his needle in the toilet and then wiping it off and using it anyway. "Plus wasn't there a TV show," I said, "a TV show you were on that people liked? It's not that bad." And Gervais was standing over in the corner smiling and giggling awkwardly.

you sure you weren't at the emmys?

i was at a party in a castle and the hostess was some neurotic nymph type who took a dislike to me, she tried to keep me from leaving the castle and i felt horribly trapped and couldn't find the way out. cut short i eventually escaped.

then i dreamt later on that night that i was a passenger in a car, it was dark and raining heavily. all of a sudden the driver vanished and i had to shuffle over into the driving seat and try to control the car ( i dont know how to drive )
the point to this part was that i realised i was still trying to escape this castle nymph woman and suddenly felt terribly vunerable again. i remember hiding out in some room with police guards at my door.

The actor Tom Arnold was really upset with me about something.

Also I lost a job as a result of some wacky, screwball-comedy-style construction-related accident.

Somehow Alfred the Great showed up at my house but due to my poor Anglo-Saxon and his poor Modern English we had some wacky misunderstandings. Never did find out whether the Alfred jewel really was his or not but I definitely didn't let him loose in my kitchen.

I had a dream two nights ago that old-school stormtrooper Nazis were invading Oregon. I was at a party at my parents' farm when they busted in with their helmets and capes. I was beating one to death with a boomstand and I realized he wasn't dead, so I grabbed his pistol and was about to shoot him in the face when my family started freaking out. And I was all like "It's ok to kill Nazis!"

Diaries and journals were being discussed over on the Masculinity thread, where I mentioned a lot of notebooks I'd filled between age 18 and 28 and never look at. After that I got curious, grabbed one from early 1980 , when I was 25, and found this, which I transcribe here for you all, verbatim:

Here is an odd dream I had this morning (or a fragment of it).

I and many others were eagerly watching a "path in the sky", a road of clouds, over which traveled a crowded stream of angels. The sight was glorious and alluring. We all set off afoot to climb up to them, join them, by way of a huge building rising up beside us. I and a small boy were hot in the lead, he in front of me.

After many stairways and rooms the boy and I ran into one that was doorless. In a wink, the boy climbed out the window, the only exit, and scampered along the narrow window ledge for 10 yards. Then he climbed in by another window. That's when I lost sight of him, for I only leaned out the window and watched. I hesitated to follow. As the boy had spotted the window he had cried, "There! Take the noble path!"

Once he disappeared from view the rest of the crowd poured into the room at a trot. Not knowing the way out they milled around aimlessly, stopped. All, including me, were stymied and disheartened. Fights began to break out, which I tried to stop. Then a vicious small animal of no description, the size of a lapdog, but ferocious as a mad shark, appeared in the room. I knew that only by subduing it could we in the room be saved.

The rest of the dream consisted of my single fight with this demonic little animal. Although I wasn't supposed to use violence on it, it was so wild and unstoppable that I even tried nailing it to the floor in order to get away from it for a moment. I greatly regretted not having followed the boy out the window, "the noble path". The dream ended when I was fagged out, desperate, and unaided by the others in the room. The demon was ready to throw its teeth and claws at me once more. I was beaten. Then I awoke I never made it up to the Turnpike of Angels.

A very cinematic dream that I think was actually supposed to be a film

Joe Pesci was a mafia guy installing some kind of "security device" for a boss in the boss's house, only he made the mistake of doing this right by the window at night with the light on, and was shot through the window while trying to install the device. In my dream-mind this was a BRILLIANT ironic twist.