I like my dreams when they aren’t driving me insane. In fact, most of my dreams end up being part of my stories, which really goes to show you how dark my mind is.
Some of my dreams consist of nothing but ordinary things, while others have all these crazy beings in them. Like the other night, I had a dream that I was a zombie raiser (like Anita Blake). Now, you know from a previous post that I can’t stand the thought of zombies, but there I was raising the dead like a pro. That’s what I get for reading before I go to bed.
Anyway, some dreams that I have are more real than others. But I have a trick to see if I’m awake, or asleep. I bite my finger, and if it’s all tingly I know that I’m dreaming. It’s fool proof.
Of course, there are dreams that I like. A lot. But they’re mostly about things that I can’t discuss online. They have real people in them, vampires, werewolves, the cast of True Blood (Which needs a new writer ASAP. I mean, really that crap has gotten out of hand.), and maybe a guy or three. Those are the dreams that I don’t want to wake up from, and like clockwork, just as it’s getting to the good part, I ALWAYS wake up. Then I have that moment of, “Goddammit!” and I turn over and go back to sleep, praying that I pick the dream up where I left off. And guess what? It never happens. That’s where being a writer comes in handy. You can just imagine the dream over again and end it the way you want it. After all, that’s what the imagination is for. At least, that’s what mine is for, anyway.
Well, that’s it for now. Talk to you soon folks.
The Fiction Writer