Rejection dream

Had a dream the other night where I received a letter from a publishing house I had sent my book proposal to a couple months ago. The letter was terribly scrawled; it looked like some third-grader had written it. I tried my best to decipher what it said, and the gist of it was that they had passed, saying my proposal/book was “exaggerated.”

This past week I’ve been anxious about receiving anything from from the actual publishing company I sent my proposal to. I check the mailbox every day, dreading to see the self-addressed stamped envelope I included in my proposal, while also being paranoid that the longer it takes, the more the answer is no. I also wonder whether or not they even received my proposal and am further paranoid they never did. Basically a lot of anxiety and paranoia. Between games of Age of Empires.

Why is it so hard to have a sex dream?

Seriously. More often than not, something annoying comes up and then I get distracted and have to deal with some other problem.

Last night, I was lucid for a bit, and then proceeded to try and grab some hot guys to take to my room up on the sixth floor (of some massive building, something like an opera house). I found one guy, then two more (as a sidenote, in my dreams, I love how guys are gay if you want them to be gay). We headed over to the elevators but they were out of order. I looked up, and the fifth floor above us was basically a gaping, crumbling hole. There was a shuttle elevator that went all the way up to the sixth floor which was oddly placed at the plaza outside of the central library. When we got there, there was a line up of people. All of a sudden, our priority was getting on this elevator (which was more like an aquarium tank with holes on the side than an elevator). One of them got angry at me when I missed going into the elevator, so the next time it came around, I hopped into it right away. No one else seemed to be able to get on, so I was on the elevator alone. As it started going up, I got the feeling that something wasn’t right — then the elevator slowed down, and started falling back down…

And then I woke up. But how disappointing was that? I was so ready to have hot imaginary sex with four hot guys… only to be foiled by elevator troubles. Ugh. I think next time I should just grab some guys and do it right then and there. Who cares about privacy? Let’s see if that works tonight.

Shot and nearly dead

Last night, I was on my way up and down (by stairs) this office building when I realized I forgot my shoes. So I had to go back to get them. I took the elevator. It stopped on a floor but no one got on. As the doors were closing, a man with glasses was jogging for the elevator but I just stood and watched as the doors closed. He squeezed his arm inside, just as the doors were about to closed. In his hand was a gun.

The doors opened and he came inside and aimed at me. I felt a sinking feeling, and I knew I was going to die. As he shot me twice, I ran at him. I felt the bullets hit my side, but tried to ignore the pain as I wrestled the gun from him. Now that I had the gun, I didn’t know what to do. I wondered if I should kill him before he killed me, and ended up shooting him in the cheek.

I think it was only then that I called out for help and some people in the nearby offices rushed over. With my last breaths, I told the woman attending to me who was pressing down on my wound to tell Kemuel Wong that I loved him. She told me not to speak and that I would make it, but I told her to tell him anyway.

I ended up surviving and some other stuff happened, but when I woke up, it struck me how I did what I’ve always thought I would do with my dying breath. I wanted to cry.

Nightmares of Keir Gilchrist

Or rather, involving him. Had a couple nightmares last night, including one of him attacking me, and another where I was in the movie It Follows, which I haven’t seen and will not see because scary movies scare me. The thing is, I love him! He’s awesome and great and super cute and these nightmares weren’t very nice.

And then after I woke up, I decided it: I want to write a movie for Keir Gilchrist. Just ’cause. And of course I’ll have him play a gay character. Duh.

Nightmare

Last night, I dreamt of many dreams, but only one that frightened me. I was in this pool kind of area, and we were closing down for the night. The last thing we had to do was to shut off one of the valves for the water, but unfortunately, it was stupidly located underwater, so whoever had to turn it off had to dive down and manually turn it off. I had been scheduled to go down and turn it off, but she told me of the recent attacks by seals with spears in the dream, I imagined them as cute, animated seals holding cute, animated spears) who killed a staff member. Whoever had to go down also had to potentially face these seals.

Needless to say, I really didn’t want to go down there. I put my head in my hands and got really depressed when someone else volunteered (cheerfully) to go down. It was coworker of mine (who I’ve met once and whose name I can no longer remember but I feel like it might be Jen?) got up and made her way over to the red, sealed, metal door, behind which she was supposed to descend. The supervisor asked her if she was really ready to go, and Jen, a little too excited, said yes. As she readied herself, she turned her back to the door and faced the rest of us sitting on the floor. And with that, the door opened.

Everyone gasped. It wasn’t that the water on the other side was literally defying the laws of gravity by not allowing flowing out and washing over us. It wasn’t that the water rippled in front of us, like there was some sort of invisible wall there.

It was because Batman was behind the door in the water, glaring back at all of us.

Jen, still with her back to the open door, started climbing in the water. We yelled at her not to go, and when she turned around, she leapt away from the door and to safety. Someone closed the door, but didn’t lock it. Everyone parted from the door in fear; I was a fair way back.

The metal door banged loudly. I yelled for someone to lock the door, and someone clicked it securely. The door thudded again. This time, everyone got up and ran out of there. A bunch of us and I ran to one exit, crossing a sort of gangway, and it was only then that I noticed there were red metal doors, just like the door Batman had merely moments been trying to get through, all around us. We were screwed.

Just when we thought were were safe, two students dressed in lab coats came at us with blunt syringes filled with some sort of bright liquid. They explicitly announced that there was no exit, and that they were going to be experimenting on us for something, and proceeded to start stabbing everyone in the neck. Once injected, victims went limp, hobbling around mindlessly like a zombie. I was freaked out, yes, but also wondered why nobody was fighting them, just letting themselves get stabbed by these geeky-looking wannabe scientists.

“Christy,” I yelled to this girl nearby who I haven’t seen since the seventh grade, “get away from here!” I think she started running the other way.

And then I fought them. I stabbed one with her syringe and got her good, but the other one injected some liquid in me before I managed to subdue him. I felt my legs get tingly and wobbly, but I was still able to think clearly. I hobbled back the other way and saw Christy.

“Help, Christy,” I managed. But she ran from me. In that moment, I grumbled about how ungrateful she was after I basically saved her life. As I rounded the corner, a guy with glasses came up to me.

“Eddie,” I said, leaning on a table to keep from falling over, “help. My legs…” I knew he’d be able to help (even if in retrospect, I have no idea who he was), but then…

I woke up, drenched in sweat, as it usually happens when I have bad dreams.

Falling to my death

Last night, I dreamt I was on a school bus kind of bus, and the driver wasn’t watching the road, which was narrow. He turned around to us and I saw that the bus was veering off the road. I yelled at him and he turned back around but it was too late: the bus fell off the road and started to plummet. Everything went slow as I realized I was going to die on that was when it crashed on a highway below.

It’s a strange feeling, bracing yourself as you’re free falling and knowing that your death is imminent.

I survived by jumping up at the last second before the bus hit the concrete, thus avoiding the crash, but I was injured and bloody nonetheless. Hmmmm

I killed a cat

In my dream last night. It was attacking me and I had to go in through this door to safety but it just wouldn’t leave me alone so I had to kill it with the closest thing to me — a small sofa. I lifted it up and hit the cat a few times with it until it lay on the ground, and yes, I felt terrible because I love cats, even evil, killer cats. There was a lot of other weirdness about the dream, like going through the door and having to memorize a nine or ten digit sequence in order to get through the next doors to safety, where the world had not been ravaged by a plague, but I only had so many tries before I wouldn’t be able to get in the door anymore, so I was knocking on the door so that someone could open it and just let me in, which ended up happening… at which point I think I woke up in a sweat because the door sequence thing was quite stressful… or perhaps some other horrible stuff happened that I no longer remember, which could be a good thing, and wow, this entire paragraph is one clusterfuck of run-ons.

Dreaming about bamboo

I dreamt last night that the two bamboo plants my mom is going to be selling tomorrow had hand-drawn signs on them that said they were free, and I think a few people were taking them away. I’m sure I dreamed more but apparently those cups of Tieguanyin tea I had almost twelve hours ago had enough caffeine to keep me up for a while.

Dreams about writing + The Hunger Games

Last night, I dreamt I had a conversation with my Writing for Children and Young Adults instructor about how to go about getting my fan-fic story about Foxface from The Hunger Games published in the world. I suppose it partly my fault for dreaming that because I watched Catching Fire yesterday and subsequently spent a bit of time on the Hunger Games wiki, reading up on the characters. And I only saw my instructor on Monday too. But very strange dream.

Oh, am I writing a fan-fic about Foxface? I thought about it a lot, mostly since I find her to be so fascinating and I would’ve loved to know her story. Officially, no, I am not writing it. But maybe one day!

Winning an Emmy

A few nights ago, I had a dream I was at the Emmys, which was strangely attended by all of two rows of people, mostly children. I had been nominated for an award, and I knew I was going to win. So when they called my name, I was delighted, grinning and waving like a madman on my way up to the stage, which was only feet away. With the Emmy in my hand, I thanked the cast and crew, and probably a whole bunch of other people for helping me on my journey to win the award for Best Actor in a TV movie.

Later, I sat a couple seats away from Jennifer Hudson, who had also won an award (I think we were in the same movie?) and some little girl next to me was playing with her stockings and declaring to everyone  how cool they were and that we should all feel them. So I felt Ms. Hudson’s stockings, and they were indeed very cool– thicker than pantyhose, yet not ugly or uncomfortable.

When I woke up, I thought it was strange I would ever win an award for acting. Not that I’m a bad actor or anything, but I never really thought about it. Now I pretend that I won an Emmy for Writing, which is helping motivate me to keep writing and develop my TV series.

Let’s see if my dream will ever come true. Acting or writing. Or any award, really.