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Category Archives: dreams

I am now convinced my dreams are not meant to make sense. At all.

Last night involved wandering in a hospital, only to bump into Stella’s nonexistent sister (I know she has a sister, but this wasn’t her!), who turned out to be a nurse, or a doctor in said hospital. All fine and dandy, I got a walking tour of the place, and got led to a barbershop. In the hospital. Who runs a barbershop IN a hospital?

It only got more surreal from this point on as I got led by a hairstylist out of the barbershop, up and down escalators into what looked like a section of a mall that’s closed, towards a shop that looked as if it was selling massage chairs. If the shop was open. Which it wasn’t. It was like a facade to another barbershop.

So I got my hair cut. Don’t remember how it was. Not sure I want to remember. The dream goes on to even weirder heights as I step out of that massage-chair-facade place to find an indoor soccer field. With kids.

When I woke up it was really just one of “WTF was that” moments.

I think it’s a sign that I should get a haircut.


I had another weird dream today.

Involving a field trip, rollerblades, roller hockey and wearing a a Swiss ball with protruding rubber spikes as a suit. No, it didn’t make sense. Especially when an instructor all suited up in one came to attempt to explain how to play only to get told to explain it to smaller kids, who didn’t seem too interested in the nuances of playing roller hockey while wearing a swiss ball.

Really, what in the world is the significance of a man in a Swiss ball wearing rollerblades. Sometimes I wish my dreams were a little more tame.

The dreams I get just tend to get stranger and stranger each passing day. I’d like to think they have no meaning to them, that they are just manifestations of what I was thinking of the day before.

This one hardly had anything to do with what happened the day before and most of my dreams have this tendency of becoming reality.

I hope this one doesn’t become real because it involved bugs the size of my fist. That’s just freaky. It also involved sleeping with people I know. Which isn’t so freaky, but I have enough awkwardness in my life that I really don’t need it getting even more awkward.

Fuck me my dreams really do bug me.