The dreams that you forget are the dangerous dreams.
The events you think happened but didn't. That time she slapped you and cried about it. The odd deja vus that pop up later.
They're little brainwash traffic lights. The dream in which you kissed her makes kissing her more practical. The idea in dream manifests itself later as a given.
I'm at a giant art gallery/gift store full of gorgeous surreal paintings and sculptures. A bunch of tier 2 friends from high school are everywhere. They seem to know what's going on much better than I do. Upstairs there is some kind of track meet going on. I'm invited to join in a sprint, but I don't have my running shoes, so I take a shortcut outside with a buddy. Outside it's early evening. A startled bat flies up out of a stairwell, turns into a butterfly and promptly lands right in the middle of a spiderweb, which appears to be a flat, iridescent sheet of neoprene. Now that I'm looking, there's another butterfly on a web just behind the first. One of them manages to sort of flop her way off and flutter away, the other is eaten by a beautiful hairy spider. Cue operatic music. Another friend comes and picks me up in a black sports car and we drive away, lighting Kamel Reds.
This is when I was woken up by a horny songbird on my window sill. I love Spring.
Less dangerous this one, I hope
I've been sleeping oddly lately, I think because I've been drinking less and because it's fall. I entered a semi-lucid state this morning about 3am in which very tasty bizarre things were occuring all over the place. I was aware I was in a dream but didn't try fiddling with it much. I'll spare you the details but here's a curious part:
There was a small baby in a birthday card. Kind of part of the card. I pulled it out to hand it to my mother and it kind of dissolved into a fetus-like chunk of mewling flesh a little like something out of a Cronenberg movie. Like a living rat brain in a petri dish or flesh grown in a lab. Then things got strange.
As my mom took the baby thing, it started morphing again. A pink spongy, gelatinous slug-like thing. Aware of us and itself. Stateshift. A palpitating undersea sponge universe with slowly waving arms with sensors on the ends of them. A plasmoid ectomorph! It spoke to us telepathically: "What's wrong with you? What's wrong with you?"
By our reactions this was something of an oddity in this place.