Interesting/Funny Dreams

Callaina

Feles Curiosissima
Because who doesn't like relating their dreams? ;)


Last night I dreamt that some unusual astronomical phenomenon was about to occur, which would for a short time (maybe half an hour) plunge our planet into the coldness of interstellar space. Most countries decided to collaboratively put up some sort of shields and take shelter and so on, but Canada decided that we were going to be tough, "go it alone" and brave the worst of it. Because we're Canada, right? ‘Nuff said. The cold never bothered us anyway.

Everyone in the city was gathered in preparation to watch the phenomenon in question -- by an outdoor hockey rink. (Because this is Canada, right?) The hockey team had been replaced by a group of some sort of trained penguins, which did a synchronized skating number around the rink. Then the cold began. I remember, as we passed through the first stage of whatever it was, thinking that, all right, it was cold, but it wasn't all that cold -- I'd experienced worse. We were about to pass into the next stage when I woke up.

Probably inspired by this: https://www.skyandtelescope.com/observing/will-sirius-disappear/
 

Callaina

Feles Curiosissima
Had another odd dream last night. In the dream, I had had a major stroke and died; however, it took me a while to clue into the fact, seeing that I could still walk around and talk to people. It was only when I looked in the bathtub and saw that my scientifically-minded little brother and sister* had dissected my body that I realized I had to be some kind of ghost.

Right around that point my mother walked in the door. Fortunately, she could still see me, and I gave her a summary of the situation before she saw the mess in the bathtub. She seemed awfully distressed over the dissection thing, though it didn't bother me very much. I then realized that I had some people to talk to and say goodbye to (I recalled reading that the spirits of the departed hung around for about three days, which gave me some time, but still there was no point in delaying.) I had been scheduled to go teach this older lady a piano lesson, but that seemed a bit superfluous now, so I wandered down to the mall where I saw a friend of mine, Jennie, buying clothes, and had a conversation with her, in the middle of which I woke up.

*In the dream. I don't have a little brother (though I do have a sister).
 

SpeedPocok5

Active Member
Callaina, interesting post because i have too many dreams every night!

I will tell these dreams here!

Some of theme are "nightmares", well said they are maybe like macabre nightmares.


I remember something very strange, maybe a dream or not i don't really know what it was, but i will start relating that odd thing that happened to me when i had 7 years old:

I was on the sofa sleeping and my mom sitting in that sofa too, in other sofa was sitting my grandpa watching the TV.

Well while i was sleeping, i started to see the whole room from the top, i was capable of see how the TV runs, how my grandfather changes the channels of the TV, and i could see my body sleeping at the sofa, it was relly odd.

I can't know if it was really an out of body experience.

Have you ever experienced an out of body experience?
 

Pacifica

grammaticissima
Staff member
I had a weird dream and at some point, either in the dream itself or when I briefly woke up before going back to sleep, I thought "Wow, this is crazy shit; I must share it on the Interesting Dreams thread". Unfortunately, I have now forgotten what the dream was. Only a couple of contextless images remain.
 

Pacifica

grammaticissima
Staff member
Just now (well, maybe half an hour ago) I dreamed that I was in a posh house, where, apparently, I lived. I was talking with a boy (maybe around ten years old, but hard to tell) who, at some point, told me something to the effect of "It sucks that you don't even have a swimming pool in the garden behind the house. I know you have one in front of the house" (a swimming pool could indeed be seen through the glass doors) "but you don't have one behind." I replied: "Yes, we do!", and led him to the garden behind the house. But as we got farther and farther into it, there was no swimming pool in sight, and, as we reached the end of it, I was forced to admit that there was none. "But," I said, "look; we have a graveyard and an old church instead; isn't that super cool?" Indeed, below a slope at the top of which we stood, there could be seen a graveyard and a church, with preparations going on in front of the church for an office or religious festival or something like that. (A detail I recall is that portable — but still relatively big, though less than a human's size — white crosses had been put in a box presumably for people to take.) The boy, however, flew into a rage that I had lied to him about the swimming pool. He crossed the garden back to the house while I vainly attempted to placate him. Then, still angry, he spoke to his father, and his father asked me what exactly had happened. I was too ashamed to tell the entire truth — namely, that I had myself thought there was or at least might be a swimming pool behind my own house while there was none — so I told him that I had intentionally lied about the swimming pool in order to surprise the boy with the graveyard etc.; that I'd thought he would like it, though I'd obviously been wrong. Then the father scolded his son saying, "Don't be stupid! What's cooler, a swimming pool or historical, heritage stuff, a graveyard and church and the remains of an old town house?" (Apparently there was that, too, though I hadn't been aware of it.) Then they went away, the boy I know not where, the father, I believe, to the end of the garden and the church etc. After a time, the father came back (we were in a white-walled corridor at this point) driving captured men (I mostly saw one but I think there were two or three) who he said were terrorists. It wasn't clear to me if they really were; they (or at least the one I saw) looked potentially suspicious but I didn't have any proof of their guilt. The father of the boy cut off the man's entire beard with one motion, which made the man's eyes water, and told him things like "You'll see, you'll cooperate with me; you'll have nothing to eat; three hours in that cell will make you look ten years older" (the man already wasn't young). He sounded as if he meant to torture and even perhaps kill them. I was terrified and sorry for the putative terrorists and, standing there crying, I told the boy's father, "Please be a little calmer with them." Then the boy's father came to me, angry that I was trying to defend his captives, and said, "What, you'll share their cell, then?" The captive, apparently moved to see me cry for him, then spoke to me and told me cryptic, half-reassuring, half-potentially-worrying things (if the guy was really a terrorist) along the lines of "Don't worry; it isn't all over."

I woke up actually crying.
 

Issacus Divus

H₃rḗǵs h₁n̥dʰéri diwsú
Well.
 

scrabulista

Consul
Staff member
Hasn't it been established that anyone who comes on this site relating a "dream" is lying?[/quote]
 

Pacifica

grammaticissima
Staff member
I dreamed that I went to some sort of outdoor Christian office to meet a client for a translation. I sat down on one of a group of chairs, at the left end of a row, which were arranged under a covering in front of the "stage" or pulpit. An oldish woman with sunglasses and a veil on her hair who was seated behind me handed me a sheet of paper inscribed with part of the sermon or perhaps a prayer. I was to translate it into Latin. After the office, I rejoined my client, who was not actually the woman. It was a man. We talked a bit and after a while I realized we were speaking French while I had expected us to speak English. So I switched to English and asked the client why we were speaking French. He said he didn't know. I thought it must be my fault; he must have continued in French after I had inadvertently addressed him in that language. I complimented him on his French, which was indeed so good as to sound native. After all, I thought, if his French had been bad or accented it would have drawn my attention and I would have realized sooner that we were speaking French. Instead, it all flowed so naturally from both of us that I hadn't even noticed at first. We went to his car as he was to drive me home. In the car, I asked him if I was to translate all that was on the sheet of paper. He said no, I should only translate starting from such and such words. They were French words. I didn't understand at first because I couldn't see those words on the sheet. It turned out they were covered by something like a slice of bacon. I lifted it and saw the words. But then the entire text had turned into slices of bacon, so to quote my price for the translation I counted the slices (there were 14 of them) and then approximately how many words there could be on each slice. The man had counted the slices along with me and said "So the price will be 14 x [a number I don't remember]?" He had already taken out his phone to use the calculator. The actual price would be 14 x the number of words on each slice x my price per word, not what the man had guessed, so I told him that wasn't it. A bit later, I asked him if he had been raised bilingual. He said no. His French and English were both so good that I thought he might have been. I couldn't tell which one was his native language. I asked him and he said English. He was smiling at me in a way that made me wonder if he thought me stupid. And this is all I remember from the dream.
 
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Bitmap

Civis Illustris
I remember watching a Batman comic film from my childhood where Batman was stuck in a dream and realised it when he failed to read a book (the letters were all jumbled up) ... because different parts of the brain are active when reading that are not active while dreaming ... or something like that. I don't know if that was scientifically correct.
 

Pacifica

grammaticissima
Staff member
I've read in my dreams before. Unless I thought I read but didn't really.
 

Pacifica

grammaticissima
Staff member
I remember reading a sign once, and also part of what was on the sheet last night though I don't remember what it said.
 

Callaina

Feles Curiosissima
I dreamed that I went to some sort of outdoor Christian office to meet a client for a translation. I sat down on one of a group of chairs, at the left end of a row, which were arranged under a covering in front of the "stage" or pulpit. An oldish woman with sunglasses and a veil on her hair who was seated behind me handed me a sheet of paper inscribed with part of the sermon or perhaps a prayer. I was to translate it into Latin. After the office, I rejoined my client, who was not actually the woman. It was a man. We talked a bit and after a while I realized we were speaking French while I had expected us to speak English. So I switched to English and asked the client why we were speaking French. He said he didn't know. I thought it must be my fault; he must have continued in French after I had inadvertently addressed him in that language. I complimented him on his French, which was indeed so good as to sound native. After all, I thought, if his French had been bad or accented it would have drawn my attention and I would have realized sooner that we were speaking French. Instead, it all flowed so naturally from both of us that I hadn't even noticed at first. We went to his car as he was to drive me home. In the car, I asked him if I was to translate all that was on the sheet of paper. He said no, I should only translate starting from such and such words. They were French words. I didn't understand at first because I couldn't see those words on the sheet. It turned out they were covered by something like a slice of bacon. I lifted it and saw the words. But then the entire text had turned into slices of bacon, so to quote my price for the translation I counted the slices (there were 14 of them) and then approximately how many words there could be on each slice. The man had counted the slices along with me and said "So the price will be 14 x [a number I don't remember]?" He had already taken out his phone to use the calculator. The actual price would be 14 x the number of words on each slice x my price per word, not what the man had guessed, so I told him that wasn't it. A bit later, I asked him if he had been raised bilingual. He said no. His French and English were both so good that I thought he might have been. I couldn't tell which one was his native language. I asked him and he said English. He was smiling at me in a way that made me wonder if he thought me stupid. And this is all I remember from the dream.
LOL, even your dreams are about languages and translation. (I guess this dream was b/c of the translation request that I linked you in?)
 

Callaina

Feles Curiosissima
I remember watching a Batman comic film from my childhood where Batman was stuck in a dream and realised it when he failed to read a book (the letters were all jumbled up) ... because different parts of the brain are active when reading that are not active while dreaming ... or something like that. I don't know if that was scientifically correct.
I've heard before that if you see text in a dream, look away and look back, the text will have changed -- this is one way to know you're dreaming. But I've had text (a storefront sign) stay stable in a dream. Maybe it's because I learned to read at such a young age that I don't even "lose" it when dreaming.
 

Pacifica

grammaticissima
Staff member
LOL, even your dreams are about languages and translation. (I guess this dream was b/c of the translation request that I linked you in?)
Most certainly, though whence the bacon, I couldn't say.
 

Bitmap

Civis Illustris
I've heard before that if you see text in a dream, look away and look back, the text will have changed -- this is one way to know you're dreaming. But I've had text (a storefront sign) stay stable in a dream. Maybe it's because I learned to read at such a young age that I don't even "lose" it when dreaming.
Maybe it wasn't a dream.
 
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