Psychotic dreams
I was sick yesterday. My stomach felt like atomic putty being pulled in 12 different directions. And that was just in the afternoon.
Despite being sick, and feeling like shit, I was really looking forward to one thing. The dreams...
See I don't know if it's just me, but every time I'm ill, especially if I have a cold or a fever I get the most PSYCHOTIC dreams. They are the most fascinating, mind-boggling and happiest dreams ever.
Well, except for that one where I keep running... and running... and I'm being chased by a giant crayon. Yes. It happens.
First of all, I HATE to run. Second, giant crayons scare me. I mean. I do NOT want to become part of it's part oil/part wax body okay! Do you know what happens to people who are absorbed?! GO WATCH DOCTOR WHO.
But my dreams, if they aren't recurring ones, are usually quite cool. It's like... My sickness is a doorway into a whole new world:
And behind that door, is a world FULL of insane possibilities. (Once I dreamt I was a jellyfish.) So I've taken to writing my dreams down. But since I've started work, I simply don't have the time to scribe it into my Penny Dreadfuls notebook.
sidenote: Penny Dreadfuls! You geddit? You geddit? Like the penny comic strips they used to sell during the Victorian times with gross-assed drawings and stories! JUST LIKE MY DREAMS!
Because I slept for about 12 hours yesterday I managed to have at least five crazy dreams. Not all of which I remember, and most of which I remember as a huge blur.
Now that I think about it... It's a lot like getting drunk.
I remember one of my dreams clearly though:
Xiaxue.
There's this girl blogger, http://xiaxue.blogspot.com/ Singaporean, about as fluffy as a person could possibly be, but smart as a whip. Despite her obvious love for rhinestones, glitter, pink and blonde, she's remarkably smart and hilarious.
I spent about an hour yesterday flipping through her blog and I guess that's why I dreamt about her.
It was like a massive amount of pink in the dream, pink clouds, pink marshmallow type pillows and lotsa shiny shiny stones. All pink. Then she attempted to give me a makeover. My eyes, my hair (which is a decent shade of brown now) took on a whole new blonde outlook and finally achieved the curls I've always wanted. Just that it was in an awful shade of Marilyn Monroe blonde.
My fat face with blonde?! WTF. fail.
God, it was awful.
But in my head, she and I got along really well. Apparently, in my head, we have achieved the same level of bitch. Yes, we were tearing apart our greatest self-appointed nemesis-es. (nemesi?) Mine.. being a nameless.. CHAIR. Her's "plasticzilla" this chick called Dawn Yang who has appointed herself as Singapore's hottest blogger.
But honest to God, I really have no love for this dawn yang chick. She looks like she's been through photoshop for beginners plastic surgery class with everything being slightly disproportionate. Her eyes are fucking HUGE. Her boobs. Gahh.. Look like they're gonna cause her to have back problems when she's 50.
So we were getting along really well, bitching, makeover-ing, bitching and so on and so forth. Then suddenly she stopped, reached over and ripped out my falsies (I'm referring to the FAKE EYELASHES YOU PERV) and shouted, "KNN! YOU LOOK LIKE DAWN YANG."
That woke me up.
Fuck. That scared me too.
Still, no matter how psychotic and chaotic my dreams can get, they're still an experience to be had.
Many a times I wake up with a warm and fuzzy feeling and completely happy. So here's looking forward to the next crazy dream I visit.