|(And share the world's worst doodle)|
I have strange dreams. Not the aspiration kind of dreams, the zonked-out-in-my-bed-at-night kind of dreams (Duh, everyone does.) I’m won’t claim I’m unique in this, people. ;)
But still. Some of my dreams are really strange. I don’t know where on earth they come from. My dad has a theory, which is this : When you’re asleep, your brain is sorting out all your thoughts and experiences, and categorizing them. Based on this theory, I imagine my mind as ... a dresser. With drawers. Or maybe more like a circular room with ... circular drawers? And something ... my brain, I guess, is sorting through my brain drawers and being all like “What is this thing doing in the sock drawer?” (Not that my thoughts are socks. Let’s clarify that. My thoughts are not socks).
Anyway, you can trust my dad, because he’s a scientist. Maybe you shouldn’t trust my imagination. At certain times that could be possibly potentially dangerous.
So. Moving onnnn. I think my dad’s theory makes sense, right? As a side-note, this is the reason people stop thinking straight when they’re tired. Because they haven’t given their brain a chance to organize, and their sock-drawers are overflowing. Even worse, they possibly have pajamas or tee-shirts in their sock-drawers. So tired people get emotionally unstable because their socks are crowded. Okay, maybe that made sense, maybe it didn’t. So just forget about this side-note, and we will try moving onnnn (again.)
Sometimes I try applying my dad’s theory (embellished by my imagination) to my strange dreams. It doesn’t always work, but sometimes I can trace separate parts of my dream back to real events and thoughts that happened in the daytime. It’s sort of like interpreting dreams. Except not as creepy.
Once I dreamed that I was defending a castle. I think that all the guys of the castle were gone and the only occupants were females my age. It was horrible, because I was the only person who was concerned about the fact that the enemy was KNOCKING HOLES IN OUR WALLS. I mean, wake up already, stupids! No one else cared, and I could not convince them that we should be defending ourselves. So I, um.... lied, and told them that Justin Bieber’s goldfish was in the West Wing and desperately needed protection. I’m pretty positive that I even assured them that Justin would personally thank each and every one of them. (dirty little liar that I am) So they all rushed off and defended the West Wing (which, oddly enough, had a goldfish in it), and we were saved, even though every other castle wall was completely obliterated. And then Justin Bieber stepped out of the rubble (in a totally creepy way) and personally thanked each and every one of them. Okay, so I didn’t lie? I think he thanked me and I tried to give him the cold shoulder, but I don’t know if it worked, because that’s where my dream fades.
Okay, so now let’s dissect this dream.
Firstly) I dreamed that I was defending a castle. Teenaged girls against a random hostile army that was probably utterly composed of males. This reminds me of a real situation at Bible camp. One night we played a huge game of flag football/capture the flag. Girls vs. Boys. It was my most horrible life experience, because boys are cheaters and jerks, and girls are pathetic and stupid. The girls refused to strategize, and seemed perfectly willing to rush around like idiots and get captured by boys. Meanwhile, they left me and several girls in the middle of a dark clearing with our flag. Everyone deserted except for me. So there I was, all alone, defending our flag. And sorry, but I do not tackle boys who cheat, and I do not attempt to steal flags that are tucked in inappropriate places. Especially when it would ultimately be useless and angering, anyway. So I spent most of the game being furious. It took a long time for me to get over it. (Like two years, and I’m still working on it.)
Secondly) I dreamed that the girls didn’t care, and I dreamed that I couldn’t convince them, and I dreamed that they were dumb. I am guessing that this all symbolizes my frequent inner frustrations with girls my age.
Thirdly) I wish I was that creative in real life. Justin Bieber’s goldfish needs protection? Sorry, but that is a stroke of pure genius. Pure and undefiled genius.
Fourthly) I dreamed about Justin Bieber, a fact which I find very disturbing. And shameful.
And retarded. I am hoping that this does not say anything about my soul or brain or any other part of me. Instead I am going to assume that this stems from the simple fact that I attend an all-girl youth group that talks about Justin Bieber too much. (P.S. I love my youth group girls anyway. P.P.S. I do not love Justin Bieber anyway. Or anyhow. Or at all.)
Fifthly) Apparently I cannot lie. Does this grant me magical powers? I lie about it, and it happens? Cool. Going off on a tangent here, but today Sam was trying to mess up Ben’s theology. “Hey Ben, God can’t lie, right? So if he tells a dog that he is a pig, then the dog becomes a pig!” I guess that’s what it’s like for me now. (P.S. I am not comparing myself to God. Don’t accuse me of it in the comments. Because I’m not.)
Sixthly) If Justin Bieber stepped out of the rubble of a medieval castle, I would shun him. I do not have any deep explanation for this. It is simply a natural reaction.
So. That’s how I interpret my dreams. Or at least dissect them. I apologize for the layers and layers of sarcasm and Lydia-humor. I’m in a mood today. :P
P.S. Do castles have West Wings?