Dreams and Schemes
Today's activity involves a small piece of writing that you will generate, revise, and polish to what feels like solidity.
Going forward after today, you'll have time to go back and look at other writing you've done this quarter (and this entire semester, for that matter) and use the same process: take what's been generated, develop it, revise it, and polish it, with the goal of sending it to me for suggestions if you like (this is optional but I'm always happy to look at your work and discuss it with you), but ultimately, certainly, to share it with the class.
The writing prompt for today: write about a memorable dream or nightmare you have had. By "dream or nightmare" I do mean the kind that happens in REM sleep rather than the more conscious or situational kind.
Unlike most writing you do for this class, I'm going to suggest that you be conscious of the time. Spend roughly 15 minutes generating content, about 15 minutes revising, and 10 minutes polishing. Post your solidified dream/nightmare on this page in the last 5 minutes of class.
Writing about dreams is a great exercise because you are somewhat freed from worrying about what it all means and what happens next: you just write.
I opened my eyes to the soft orange glow of my lamp - nothing out of the ordinary, wrapped in my warm winter blankets. Suddenly the screeching sound of hissing filled my ears. I turned my head towards the window and froze, my gaze met with their piercing pupils looking back at me. Three six black cats with yellow and red eyes were carefully spaced out along the ceiling, and suddenly, they began to multiply. I tried anything I could to move but I was paralyzed. I kicked and screamed but nothing came out; I cried and cried yet not even the tears seemed to fall into my pillow. Just as I thought I couldn’t possibly take it anymore, I jolted awake. The morning sun intruded my room, almost blinding me as I opened my eyes. I got out of bed still shaken up to turn off my lamp, my heart thumping out of my chest. I must’ve fallen asleep by accident last night, I thought while looking at my clothes from the night before. Sighing, I grabbed my phone off the dresser and sat back down in bed, thankful that it was all just a dream.
ReplyDeleteThe eyes are terrifying! Also that moment of sleep paralysis is one of the scariest things ever with dreams. When it happens to me I think oh wow am I dead? No, wait, how could I be if I'm wondering if I'm dead? Shudder...
DeleteI stepped inside the wooden shack that looked like the remnants of a bombed wooden building. The fog was thick and the air smelled urban, but there weren’t any buildings in sight, save the few gray houses that spotted the streets around, looking as uninhabited as the shack. Yet, people came long distances from all around to get to this house. Jada Pinkett Smith’s house.
ReplyDelete“Hey baby. You want some juice?”
I stepped over rubble towards Jada’s smiling face. I had forgotten what I had come to her house for, but I knew I had been here before. I felt comfortable. Accommodated. She was here to help. Before I could speak, a man reached his hand out from behind a broken wooden pillar next to the wall to receive the juice she had offered. Jada walked over to him as if she hadn’t seen me and gave him a white ceramic cup, a cup that clashed heavily with the room around us.
The man drank the juice slowly. He exhaled. It sounded something like relief. Then he collapsed to the ground. I stared at him on the ground, feeling like I had just stood up too fast. The blood rushed out of my head until I couldn’t focus or remember who I was. I stood still, looking at my hands. After coming to my senses, I looked up to see Jada was staring at me. She looked sharp, but neutral. She was aware of me, maybe more aware of me than I was of myself, but looked as if she wasn’t particularly interested in explaining anything.
She took a step towards me. I ran.
I don't know whether to laugh or to shiver in fear. OK, I laughed, but also this is super creepy. I would run too. :D
DeleteMy mom and I were in Walmart shopping for fruit and stuff and for some reason Shane Madej was there working as a janitor and I recognized him so I went over to say hi and we started chatting while my mom watched from the side (she was really confused) and I asked him something along the lines of “what was your favorite part of your job?” He starts telling me about how much he loved being in the Arctic and drilling holes to go ice fishing or something. And I’m like, “Ice fishing? You’re a ghost hunter. You weren’t on some nature show.” And then I was like, seeing his vision of the nature show that he wasn’t on and then I look closer at the guy who’s ice fishing and it turns out that it’s Dr. E. So I’m like “You’re not Dr. E!” and he’s kinda like “Am I?” and then ‘Shane’ pulls back his fur hood that he’s suddenly wearing and reveals that he’s Dr. E and I’m like “Woah!” And then we fall through the floor into the Arctic and we’re on a boat in the ocean and it’s really cold. Then we start chasing a whale but it’s not actually a whale and then we’re on some giant wave chasing after this not-whale and I get really scared that we’re going to sink but then the thing swallows us and we’re in its stomach. The stomach is really big and there’s this whole ecosystem in there and then all of a sudden there are dinosaurs that are wandering around and I’m like “Dr. E, we can’t stay here inside this whale” and then I woke up.
ReplyDeleteDream logic is the best. And by "best" I mean truly the most bizarre. Wal-mart, ice fishing, the belly of a whale, and Dr. E -- you can't make this stuff up. And yet, you did.
DeleteSo I remember being in my psych class and for some reason we were up in the North Attic, except it didn’t really look like our Uni attic, it looked more like a generic attic that was dark and had a bunch of stuff everywhere. Dr. Wilson decided that we were going to make gingerbread houses up there like how my mom does with her students, except instead of using sugar molds, we were using french toast. So he put us in charge of making the french toast and we were each supposed to make our own but then it got confusing and he started asking us to do a bunch of stuff so I ended up making all the french toast. Except then I started getting behind on doing my own thing because I was helping everyone else. So I think Henry took over for me so I could go try and work on my house and it ended up turning out really bad so I got frustrated and I was like “my mom makes these so much better” because it was completely falling apart (as bread probably does when you try to stick it together with frosting). But then I had to give up because this group I was in all of a sudden told me that we were supposed to be scanning our eyeballs and taking pictures of them because we would need them for a project later. So I said okay and they scanned my eyes but then I had to run off half an hour early because I had another class I had to get to and I was mad that I had to miss the ending and I couldn’t even try to fix/finish my “gingerbread” house. Then I went downstairs and I was in this sword making class? And I think I was like, the only one and the teacher who’s a guy I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen before was trying to show me how to make a katana like Tanjirou’s from Demon Slayer but he was mad at me for being late to his class and I spent the whole thing being annoyed until it was over.
ReplyDeleteBahahahaha, Uni is getting into your psyche, Alyssa. Dr. E in a whale and Dr. Wilson making gingerbread houses. The eyeball scan is creepy, btw.
Delete6th grade dream
ReplyDeleteDrifting within a rosy expanse
The light around me, flushed and soft.
The sensation of being both
Upside down and rightside up
Disorients, distorts.
I cannot get my bearings, which way is the sky?
(But I am in it)
I am someone else.
Suddenly, my calm hovering turns to quick,
Terrifying movement.
I am the clapper of a bell
My crown aimed at unforgiving alloy.
I am the peaked knuckles of a fist,
Connecting with cheekbone (sure to bruise, if not fracture).
I am myself again,
Swinging with overwhelming force
Into the wall above my dreaming head.
A violent mirror.
"I am the clapper of a bell." "I am someone else." "A violent mirror." I love these lines -- an intense, vivid dreamscape.
DeleteWe sank for refuge in the tiny crevice between the couch and the wall. I clung to Andrea’s arm and squeezed my eyes shut, and together we listened.
ReplyDeleteWe listened as the clamor of the voices outside grew nearer.
We listened for the sound of the door creaking open.
We listened for the shuffle of footsteps in the room around us.
As I heard them begin to push the furniture around, searching blindly for us, I opened my eyes to look at Andrea. Her eyes were glazed over, focused straight ahead. I squeezed her arm again, shaking her, but she refused to return my gaze.
Rather, she was deflating—the fat and muscle seemed to have evaporated, and as my hand fell away from the arm I was clutching her skin hung from the bone in sallow folds. Like an animal about to retch, her rib cage squeezed and contracted, with the sound of air rushing from a balloon. Her head rolled back and she stood up, her movements dispassionate as a puppet’s.
I had forgotten to be silent. I’d never known if the mob could hear me anyways—but now I screamed and screamed for her to come back, to stop the trajectory of the change that had taken place.
This is the kind of dream that would literally wake me up screaming. Wow. This works beautifully as a prose poem, surreal yet believable. Dream or reality? Could be both.
Delete“Dad, how long are we going to have to wait?” I ask as we sit down in the restaurant. It’s peculiar, the room is quite dark and we’re the only ones here. All of the other tables are empty. Me, my dad, and my brother wait quietly.
ReplyDelete“Trust me, it will be worth it,” My dad said. The server comes over and asks us what we want. “Can we have a jawbreaker please, to share?” The server says yes, takes our menus, then leaves.
We talk, and wait, and wait, and wait. It’s been so long. Finally, the server comes back with a huge jawbreaker, the size of an apple. It’s white and speckled with rainbow colors. “Enjoy.”
Finally, after all this time, it’s time to try the jawbreaker. This will be so delicious. My brother has some, then my dad. Now it’s my turn. Then I wake up.
Noooooo!! This ended up being a nightmare after all! Here I was all happy ready to enjoy the pretty, apple-sized jawbreaker. Dreams are mean.
Delete(i actually wrote this sometime last year but i think its cool and its about a dream i had)
ReplyDeleteI’m in the hallway at school, walking through impenetrable masses of people, when the red-haired girl scoops me up by the waist, looks me straight in the eyes, and scrutinizes me. What is she looking for?
She hands me off to the boy who stands beside her. A crowd has gathered ‘round; chattering excitedly among themselves, they all stare at me, and the boy hands me off to another one of them. Off I go, passed from one to the other like a hot potato. I know each of these people; they are my classmates, my friends, and each of them grab me around the waist, look into my eyes, and laugh hysterically, ignoring my protests. I wonder, for a moment, whether there are words bobbing around inside my eyes, like the fortunes inside a Magic 8 Ball that emerge from a pool of purple liquid with a glimmer and a few air bubbles, answering a young child’s yes-or-no questions. Everyone in the hallway packs in close together, their hands outstretched — everyone wants their turn, to hold me up high above their heads and get a good look at me. The echoing and bubbling laughter, the pink grins, the carpet of waggling fingers below me render me immobile, and as the people continue to pass me around, I am unable to tell the difference between their giggles and my screams.
Another "wake-up-screaming" dream scenario. I think one of the most terrifying things about this is that it is again both surreal and yet believable at the same time. It almost really could happen, and that's incredibly freaky.
DeleteBOOM!
ReplyDeleteWe all lunged forwards as the shotgun went off.
It was just a typical 400-meter race at the Danville track. The black rubber was damp with rain, white lane lines worn down after years of enduring repeated attrition from metal spikes. The sky was murky, gray-blue. It smelled like wet grass. A familiar environment.
After finding my pace along the first 100-meter curve, I started cruising. Among the drowning noises of indistinct encouragement and short-lived phrases being screamed, the rapid footsteps on either side of me seemed much louder, accompanied with heavy breathing. Then all of a sudden, everyone was in front of me. I was being left behind.
I ran harder–or at least tried to. My legs were moving but my body wasn’t gaining distance. I was stuck. Stuck on the first straightaway, still with 250 meters to go. A surge of panic enveloped me. I pumped my arms and legs, lungs drawing in as much air as they could…but my body was inert. The figures ahead of me disappeared into thin air. I was alone. Don’t leave me! I yelled in my head. I looked down to see my legs working just fine. I couldn’t seem to grip the ground below me, as if my feet couldn’t reach anything but air.
Why are dreams so mean? I have had the running-but-can't-run dream constantly, and you describe it perfectly. I've heard that we often run in dreams because it's the part of our brain that wants us to keep alert in case scary predators attack. Well, then why can't I dream that I'm really, really fast??
Delete