I am writing a dream journal for my class in Psychology. It has been a little enlightening, and also a little fun.
I have always dreamt in color. I do not remember anything else. I am surprised by others who do not. I mostly see in realism, but occasionally I get these Preraphaelite colors that just overwhelm you. I occasionally try to read, but the words don't make sense unless I concentrate very hard. Even then, the words are not connected with each other. Making sense of them is difficult.
I usually dream about people, places, and things within a day or two of those things.
Most of my dreams happen in the Linthicum that Never Was. I grew up in Linthicum, ouside of Baltimore. I dream about my parents house often. I never dream about my own house, unless I am extremely worried about the house itself. Home is always Home, but never where I am living.
I rarely recall touch in dreams and I do not recall smells. I do remember pressure. Even sounds can be passing. Do I remember sounds? People sometimes talk to me, so I guess that I do.
In the morning, what stays with me are the visuals. There are some dreams that I remember entirely for the visuals. I still recall the romanesque city of domes. I stood there on a grassy hill overlooking the city. Nearby, a group of statues stood: marble dolphins leaping above the grass. In the center, Poseidon strode with his trident, proud sponsor of this polis.
I have dreamt that I died. After lying there dead for a few minutes, I realized that nothing was happening, so I stood back up and went along my merry way.
Sex is always a pleasure to dream of. Those always leave me in a happy mood. I get mighty lecherous when I have a waking dream and I realize that I am in a dream. Oh, the naughty things that I try. :-) Whohoo. Actions without consequences. No Catholic concience. Hehehe.