Dream Weaver

I think I’m coming down with something. Yesterday, I had a bit of a stomach cramp which I thought was the stale chips I had at lunch but then today I shivered a lot more in response to the cold and later developed the sore throat tickle that is my usual indicator of an oncoming illness. As long as it isn’t the flu, I’ll be fine… -ish.

I hate being ill because my thoughts always become so negative. I sleep roughly, have odd dreams. Last night I dreamt of a point of view inside a lying down skeleton, which then started to flower flesh and sinew, like I was passing from a dimension where this person was dead to a dimension where they were alive, and, not only that, slowly I realised that this person was in the middle of having sex ,as ripples of vaginal flesh swelled around my viewpoint. It was bizarre. I also had a dream which was basically the plot of the movie Oldboy but without being locked up in a prison. My feverish brain always crosses weird boundaries. Dreams aside, I couldn’t read articles about global warming that sprang up on Twitter because a horrid sense of doom surrounded me at the thought of it. Normally, I’m okay with anything. So, sorry folks. I usually try to be positive for other people – maybe not for the next few days.

It’s good writing fuel, I suppose, but it is strange to me how a lot of my dreams, that I remember, are reworkings of movies or TV show plots. Has my imagination become so dulled? Is that why I find it hard to write recently? I should try reading more. Hopefully I’ll have time if I take a day off school. If it comes to that.

Do your dreams affect or influence your writing? Have you ever dreamed about your characters? I’d love to know. Leave me a comment.

 

 

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