I read somewhere that most people don’t dream.  That same article said that of the people that do dream, only about half of them remember their dreams.  On top of that, only a fraction of the dreamers dream in color, and even fewer still have lucid dreams where they know they’re dreaming and have control over the events.

The last few nights have been proof that I am among that vast minority.

Thursday night, my brain revolted and pulled out elements of recurring nightmares I used to have as a child.  Added to that a complete lack of understanding of anything while still in complete control of my surroundings, a little bit of drug-like euphoria on the part of everyone else in my head at the time, and a moment of WTF??? when I woke up… yeah.

Then Saturday night, I dreamed about doughnuts.  Yes, you read that right.  Doughnuts.  I dreamed that Lexxx and I were walking through some ridiculous mall – like Mall of America ridiculous, only bigger – and we found a Krispy Kreme stand… where I proceeded to order doughnuts only to have the girl at the counter give my order to someone else, then pretend I didn’t exist.  In the end, Rooster jumped the girl, and got my doughnuts for me, but the damage had already been done, and I woke up so mad that I wanted to scream.

Over fictional doughnuts.

And then there was last night, where I was trapped in Movie Hell.  For some reason, my friends and I were cast in the starring roles of some really bizarre movies (like Roman Holiday, for one), and while I knew I was dreaming, I couldn’t seem to get out of the silver-screen rut.  The point when I found myself standing next to Tally at the bottom of the stairs of the house from The Exorcist was when I just turned around and walked away.

Still didn’t wake up, either.

I don’t remember where we were when Rooster came in and told me he was going to work, and quite honestly I don’t think I want to know.  I’m just glad he came in when he did, otherwise there’s no telling where I would have ended up.

I’ve always had a pretty wild imagination, but lately it seems to be out of control.  Half of my story ideas come from dreams, though lately I only seem to remember the more disjointed of the bunch.  At this point, I sort of wish I wouldn’t dream for a night or two, because I’m always so exhausted when I wake up.  Maybe tonight will be different.