If you remember this post from a few weeks ago I was talking about my dreams and how I hate waking up before they reach their conclusion because they just leave me hanging, right on the edge without the needed release from the storyline. Lately, though, I’ve been crafting movies in my mind rather than my dreams for some reason.
I don’t know if my mind is trying to make up for the fact that I’m only getting a few hours of sleep or what but my dreams lately have become less vivid and memorable and instead I’m creating them in my mind during the day – while I’m stopped at a red light, waiting in a drive-thru line or kicking back taking a break from something.
They’re not really daydreams in the context I’m familiar with – they still aren’t all rose-colored depictions of what life should be (although I will admit the one where I won the $190m Powerball probably skewed a little more towards that end of the spectrum) and things take odd, not necessarily good-for-me turns throughout. Some have helped me fill in pieces of the stories I’m writing; a few have been wildly entertaining; a couple pretty stinkin’ morbid.
Not even the triggers are the same. Sometimes it’s a song I hear (Suntan City by Luke Bryan triggered the latest) or a picture I see (a buddy of mine flying, for instance); other times it’s a text message or e-mail I get. It could be the car next to me, the particular shade of blue the sky is colored with or maybe just something out of left field with no apparent trigger.
It might be on a topic I’ve been pondering for a while, something that had slipped to the back burner of my brain (my subconscious screwing with me?) or something I can’t tie to anything in particular.
The only things they have in common are a) me (I’m involved, although not necessarily the star), and b) they pop into my head during the day.
Regardless, though, they’re a nice break from the daily routine and they seem to happen in hyper-realtime; I can run through an entire scene in just a few moments. Maybe my brain is just showing me the pieces of the story I care to focus on (e.g., I’m less concerned whether the tulips in the background were red, yellow or black and more concerned on why I have a shovel and a rolled-up carpet at my feet) and skipping the rest, allowing me to take in the entirety of the scene and dialog in a heartbeat instead of the way a movie on the screen would require sorting through and filtering out sensory overload.
I tried to filter through all the things going on in my life that could have caused it but I’m striking out. The only real changes in the last few weeks have been my reading more fiction (I’m in the middle of Red Seas Under Red Skies, Scott Lynch’s follow-up to The Lies of Locke Lamora), jamming to a more country-centric playlist than my general playlist (which has a lot of country but also has Maroon 5, Macklemore, Goo Goo Dolls and a whole variety of others) and a couple of twists on projects at the office. My general life routine is the same (volleyball an obscene number of hours each week, etc.) and save for helping a friend pack/move/unpack and trying to replace garage doors I really haven’t done anything out of the ordinary.
I don’t know – just kind of randomly pondering. It was something that snapped into my mind last night and it sounded like a good opportunity to randonly spew words on a typed page.
We’ll call that succcess.by