posted on Nov, 9 2009 @ 06:57 AM
When I was a teenager I used to get these damn things all the time. It got to the point where I would use methods of preventing REM sleep (Ironically
one of those methods was playing music by R.E.M. next to my head while I slept)
What stands out first is the "wasteland" dream. I'm part of a pack of survivors. The sky is overcast and the rain is constant. Constant.
Everywhere around us is an expanse of mud, like a tidal flat or something. Beneath the mud is the ruins of civilization - broken refar sticks up like
some sort of weird forest, and we use it for weapons. Specifically, we use it to hunt people. There's nothing to eat except other people. The mud is
poison, the water is brackish, and all that's left are these tribes of ragged survivors, using each other as cattle. I don't remember too many
"plot points" of it... I was so freaked out by having vivid, detailed dreams of cannibalism that I kinda blocked out the finer details.
Another one is like a precursor or companion to that. Same eternal rain, but this time in a crumbling cityscape. Think "Akira" Meets "Highlander
2" (and then forget about Highlander 2 again, for your own health). Larger tribes of people eke out an existence in this. The weird part is that it
segue'd into a weird sort of game, like polo, only with jet skis. The ocean is dead, the water is oily, and we're playing this stupid, and very
lethal game on it - you're allowed to attack the other team. And then this wafe rises up, and for some reason there are holes in it, like the
water's stretched too thin or something, and I wake up.
The last one I remember clearly is a little more "mundane". My mother is dead. Someone or something killed her. I grab my little sister and run for
the door. Outside is pure chaos. Sirens and people screaming and running. The streets are broken and there's smoke all over. I never know what it is
we're running from. War? Plague? All I know is i have to save my little sister, I have to get away. We're running though the woods behind my
grandmother's house, an my mother's alive again. She takes us home, embraces us, and I see in a mirror that she's dead, a withered husk
mummy-thing. I can't save my sister from it, and I haul ass out of there. Next thing I know, I'm in uniform and armed with some sort of gun, waiting
for "the enemy" to come trhough the smoke.
Another one I've had frequently, even into adulthood isn't really apocalyptic as just weird. My family and I - and it's not always "my" family,
usually just dream-figures - are on an Island. And we're being hunted by the natives, who divide their tribes by how they decorate their faces - the
most dangerous ones wear a headdress of red feathers and cover their faces in pulped grass and leaves, while the "friendly" ones cover their faces
in grey clay and weir their hair long. The oddest thing is that it's a running "series" that always picks up from where it last left off, even if
it's been years. It's not apocalyptic, except for the fact the Island has a volcano in immediate danger of blowing.