last night i had another one of my action dreams. there was a serial killer in a giant dark mansion, there was a terrorist plot to blow up a restaurant, there were scooter chases and a kidnapping, there were machine guns and snowshoes, and finally, there was an involved taste-testing of bitter orange liqueurs (who knew there were so many(in my head)). i love my dreams, they are way more fun than my boring old life where i almost never get to bonk anybody on the head with a baseball bat. strangely, for a while, a large number of my action dreams centred around arms smuggling in africa. go figure. i know little about weapons, i have never been to africa, and i find the whole arms smuggling thing to be morally questionable because most likely it is being done for profit, and if morality enters the question, well, how can you be sure you are supporting the right warlord? and yet these dreams came, fast and furious, me (again) shooting automatic weapons, driving semis across the desert, hiding under tarps in jeeps, you name it, i've done it.
my mom and my husband rarely remember their dreams, my dad, on the other hand, is clearly the genetic source of my nocturnal double life. i am grateful because if i ever run out of books or movies to entertain me, i will still have my dreams.
last night, before i even fell asleep, i was thinking about another aspect of my dreams: the geography. i really don't know if this is normal or not (and good god, do i really even care, except in a curious statistical way?), but i am extremely well aware of the geography of my dreams. what do i mean? well, there are several repeating motifs in my dreams: the big city, the market, and the waterfront. and although i rarely revisit the same place, i revisit the vicinity. as i walk the paths of a lagoon i think nothing of it, but when i think about the dream the next morning, i know where each path will lead, i know that the lagoon is the same one from previous dreams. i remember the mountain path from a dream i must have had over a decade ago and a big city zoo from a childhood dream. i can close my eyes and picture the twisted pathways of the marketplace whose stalls i visit with astounding regularity, though, as far as i can remember, i have never purchased anything. in my recent city dream, i walked down a long street with a chinese name, and though on the surface it looks to my waking mind like a street in toronto's chinatown, in my dreamworld, it is a street in the Big City, and i know the way there, i know the overpasses, i know the downtown core, i know this city in a way that tells me i have been there more than once, although never in the same place twice.
i don't know if i am making much sense, and i don't know if i am getting across what i really mean. i think that what i do mean is that if i were to ever physically find myself in the places i have constructed in my mind, they would not be haphazard, i would be able to find my way. i would know the streets, i would know the paths, i would know them well. still, i find it a little bit odd that although i sometimes forget things that it would please me very much to remember, i remember in detail, the imagined landscape of my dreams, and much of the dreams themselves. as stated before, crazy brain, you are rather disturbing sometimes.
thanks for listening (was i typing out loud again?) to this self indulgent topic.