Understanding dreams is not an exact science. It is an inexact art open to interpretation that even the greatest minds cannot master. As the master architect of my own dreams, the plot often unfolds like a mystery before my closed eyes. My personal dreams are chronicled by mystery, heavy dialogue, and recollection. What the characters say in my dreams come like gift-wrapped surprises. As I interact with the characters in my dreams, my creativity takes shape. I make puns and play on words. I am surprised by my dream witticism because I use words in clever ways that I never imagined. Like a sleeping comic, I wake up each morning with new joke material to take into the day or use here in Freudian Slips. The imprint of my nocturnal dreams on my waking self makes me believe that I own a strong subconscious mind. If that isn’t strange enough, my subconscious recently broke through to the other side of midnight to confide in me. I would classify this unlikely communiqué as a bizarre and convoluted experience. Bare with me before you throw away the key.
Back in September 2005, I was working on a rough draft for this very blog posting about dream sequencing. I remembered the humor that transpired, and awoke to new joke material that my subconscious created. I wondered how I could invent new material in my dreams while asleep. Without a plausible explanation, I hashed out the skeletal framework of the story which appears before you. In order to complete a witty post about dreaming, my dreams said I couldn’t sleep on the job!
Meanwhile, I was also drafting the post Natasha Ryan, The Necromancer but it was too stiff to yet post on Freudian Slips. Writer’s block miserably injected into my veins. Lacking noodles forced me to put down my doodles. In a dreamy sleep that night, my subconscious changed the blog post title, added better keywords, and an intriguing angle that I had not thought of. Why didn't I think of that? My subconscious instructed me to get off the snide and finish both my Natasha story and my dream post in the works. I woke up, tweeked the Natasha Ryan, The Necromancer story, and published it on October 4, 2005.
Following the instructions of my subconscious, I returned to work again on my earlier blog post about dreaming. I felt satisfied with my writing and cued it up for publication. When I went to bed that night, however, I had no idea the post would continue to be edited while sound asleep so far from a keyboard.
As if according to some master plan, I woke up to remember everything told to me in my sleep. I couldn’t believe it! Incredulously, my subconscious made a condescending dig at me. How dare he, me, I? Why did my subconscious mind play a joke on my conscious mind at my expense? It was weird enough when I just seemed surprised by what others said in my dreams. This is so deep on so many levels. I don’t know what else to make of it all. I am open to suggestions from readers and qualified shrinks who want to take on some pro bono work. I do know that the more writing I can get done while I slumber, the better chances this blog stands of carrying on. I hope this is the gift that keeps giving. You gotta love the presents of mind with open arms.
A nocturnal admission if you will, here is what I remember saying to myself that fateful night during my sleep no less:
“Joe, remember this laugh line when you wake-up. I want you to close the dream post with the following line. ‘Your subconscious will always be funnier than your personality ever will.’"
So let it be written. So let it be done.
Labels: short story