Your personal Tumblr journey starts here
Dream Journal - Blog Posts
dream journal: entry 1
february 5th 2025
As I said in my pinned, I'm interested in using the lucid dreaming method to shift, so why not use this blog as a dream journal too! Surprisingly to absolutely no one, here I am sharing a dream that may or may not tie with my symbol of fear dr!
← previous [pinned] || next [entry 2] →
This dream was actually pretty fucking sad- I woke up somewhat disoriented because I was super tired and then I was extremely sad because what the fuck brain?
It wasn't a lucid dream and maybe it was better that way, I wouldn't have known what to do- I'd have probably panicked and woke up anyway. I was my dr self and I remember being…somewhere with the lov? I have no idea where we were to be honest. Basically we were ambushed by pro heroes. I don't know how this happened, but suddenly we were trapped in a 'metal box'. It was pretty spacious inside, but suddenly there were just four of us: me, Dabi and some other two that I don't recall at all. And quirks didn't seem to work there either.
And you know that thing in dreams when you know things even if you shouldn't? Yeah, so apparently the heroes had the 'brilliant idea' to try and kind of negotiate(?) with us and then help us in some way, which doesn't sound too bad, but the execution was absolute dogshit. They thought that by reconciling with the person/people who hurt us would help us kind of calm down and we'd be more willing to trust and listen to them. Well that went horribly-
They couldn't bring anyone in for me- they probably could have went with All Might, but they didn't. Kotaro was dead (and they didn't know about him anyway) and bringing in All For One would've been the stupidest thing ever (also they just couldn't- like why would he ever side with the heroes and ruin his own plans?). So all I could do, since my quirk didn't work and I was all skin and bones, was watch what the hell was going on.
Not even a minute in and immediately Dabi and Endeavour are at my right, screaming at each other like there's no tomorrow. I didn't do anything at first because, again, quirks didn't work and Endeavour could've destroyed me with one hand, but when I finally decided to step in the scene changed kind of drastically. But before that, let me explain what was going on a little better:
Apparently in that 'room' everyone's quirk didn't work, including the heroes'. In fact, Endeavour didn't have his usual flames surrounding him, which I thought was a little strange but maybe they wanted us to feel like we were equal. Both of their designs weren't 100% perfect, especially Dabi's. He was a mix between a younger and older him, if that makes sense. His hair was grey, the damaged skin looked a little healthier than it was supposed to be and his clothes were a little bit on the lighter side. Their argument was, unsurprisingly, about how Endeavour was the worst possible father (and husband) on the fucking planet. At first it was pretty generic, but then Dabi quickly began talking specifically about what he did to him. I specifically remember hearing something about how he didn't feel and wasn't seen by him at all and how shocked he was that, despite being right in front of him, he still felt that way. Endeavour didn't care about his identity at all, he cared more about his job at that moment. He was also being pretty fucking hostile (verbally), raising his voice and shit.
So when I decided to step in I took a few steps forwards, trying to get closer and maybe set myself between them, but Endeavour literally disappeared into thin air. I remember immediately turning towards Dabi and he had an extremely distressed look on his face. I instinctively opened my arms to offer him a hug and he basically threw himself at me. And oh, he cried so fucking hard- I was hugging him and rubbing his back trying to calm him down while I heard him bawling his eyes out right next to my left ear. It was fucking soul wrecking to be honest (can't wait to shift and, once we meet and get closer, hug him :'D)
Not too long after this Dabi vanished, but Endeavour reappeared. As soon as he came back literally everyone, villains and heroes alike, was looking at him like "WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?!"
I also remember yelling something at Endeavour, but I don't remember what it was to be honest.
And then I woke up- this dream didn't have the right to make me feel this shitty, I've been thinking about it all day😭🙏🏻
You ever had a dream that had a storyline so good, you start mapping out the storyline inside the dream so the storyline can be tangible in reality, but when you wake up the dream has started slipping from your mind, and you’re sitting there left to wonder who Marco and Destin are and what are their stories…
(Lowkey feeling nostalgic about the HBO goodnight moon special which I was thinking of while making this post. I swear if I ever get a chance to watch it again I might cry.)
Added two new dreams to my dream journal an Wattpad. If you want one of your own posted send it to me and I'll post it there with your information and avícola media
My Dream Journal
I just posted on my dream journal on Wattpad. I'll eventual update it with the ones from my original journal, which was on Quotev. It shares this posts title. There's not a lot on the Wattpad version, but I will update whenever I can. If anyone is interested, my name on there is R0ch (zero not o)
I’m not even the main character in my dreams. I’m the side character rooting for her best friend as the love of her life gets married to another woman. I’m a the side character who helps the prince pick the right girl and falls in love with the comedic relief. I’m the extra who ditches it all to go explore the flower fields instead of staying for the drama.
Magus Musings - Dreams
It was the cavern again…
Anafenza turned her head left, then right. The same cavern she had been trapped in, years ago, with those reflections of the woman she’d killed. Only this time, she was alone.
She felt herself, before looking down. Nothing. No clothes, no tools. She tilted her head – dark splotches stained her grey skin where she had felt herself. She brought her hands up.
Blood. The scent of it hit her like a sack of popotoes before she even registered it with her eyes. She checked herself again, then gasped.
They were lying there, at her feet again. The duskwight, Jessika (or whatever the hells her name actually was), was on her back, her half-petrified face smashed and obliterated leaving just her mouth recognizable, open in a silenced scream of shock and pain.
The pale auri with the daggers – was it Nai, was that her name? – was bent over a second body, her hands desperately pressed against a third woman’s neck. She was screaming for help.
The third woman…
Anafenza covered her mouth, stopping a sob. Lyta was on her back, eyes wide in horror, struggling to breathe. Her mouth foamed with spit and blood, dripping down and mixing with her tears. She slowly turned her head, her eyes locked with Anafenza’s…
“You killed me.” Her voice was sharp and clear, right next to Anafenza’s horn, and she turned quickly to see Lyta standing next to her, blood trailing down her chest from the wound across her neck. Anafenza took a step back.
“You killed me,” she said again, accusingly.
“No!” Anafenza shook her head. “You didn’t die! They saved you! They stopped me, this curse stopped me! You lived!”
“You killed me,” she said again, then opened her arms wide. “Me and the rest of them. Their blood is on you, Aenc Tyr.”
Anafenza looked around the cavern again and gasped. Bodies littered the floor. Stalagmites and stalactites were bodies, skewered to the ground or hanging from the ceiling. Friends and family. Strangers. All around her.
And she stood in the center of it all, glowing dark and ominous, a vine creeping up her body and wrapping around her, choking the life from her as her branches wilted, leaves fell…
Anafenza woke up, splashing and sputtering in her tub. Once she had found her breath she began to sob, laying her head on the side of the tub and just cried…
((Featuring @little-purple-thundercloud))
Dream Journal 12
Woke up to kiratai shaking me roughly I was talking in my sleep and I sounded like I was in trouble, so he woke me. I was the younger girl again, and again I felt as if the wind and rains were at my command. I wore special armored gloves that made these incredibly strong sounds that could throw grown men through the air. I was with two other women roaming a…city, I suppose, though I’ve never seen buildings as tall nor constructed in such a fashion…that is, until Ishgard. I suppose the location could have lent itself to some of my fancy. I’m going to curl back up with Kirikun now and sleep
((Scrawled quickly, in shorthand and sloppy, the follow passage appears on the page, as if Anafenza was once again taking notes hastily))
There once lived a brave knight. Full of courage and chivalry and kindness. He was a knight of Ishgard, a Temple Knight, one of the most respected in the land. His shield bore no hint of his allegiance, beyond the blue as the skies and white wings. His devotion was to his country and his countrymen.
But he was young...and as most young men do, he fell in love. He fell in love with a woman he shouldn't have even known. She was common; he was valiant. But he loved her. And, everyone knew, she loved him as well. They married. There was talk, as there should be in Ishgard, but no one truly cared. They were happy for the knight and his wife.
But the nights in Ishgard are rarely peaceful, and rarely do the knights know peace. gods that sounded amazing when he said that!!
The wyrms attacked one eve, not more than a bell after sundown. They brought down fire from the heavens, ripping the great stone walls apart with their claws, and eating up women and naughty children did he really just say naughty children!? Is this a bedtime story?
The knight fought bravely, as he had every other night. He fought with a fire his fellow knights hadn't seen before. He was scarcely the same man. They said he had something far more important, far more dear to fight for, for his wife, he’d learned, was with child. With a great, ferocious cry, he thrust his sword into the head of the last dragon. The battle was won. Ishgard stood, strong as ever
The knight hurried home, not even bothering to wash his hands of the deeds from that night, his armor crimson with wyrmsblood.
But when he arrived, not a stone was left standing atop another. All the walls had been felled. The roof burned away. And there, in the center of the rubble, lay the knight’s wife, still as the night.
The knight dropped his shield. His sword he drove into the ground, the only support left for him that night, and he wailed. He wailed and he cried and he cursed and he prayed and he swore and he hoped and bargained, he said anything he could think and everything he should not...all for the sake of his wife.
But some bargains are better left unmade...and more still better unpaid…A dark cloud rose from the rubble, shadows dancing inside. The cloud surrounded the knight and his wife...and in it a voice that said…"Brave knight of Ishgard, we have heard your grief. Tell us, what you would do for our relief?"
"Anything," was his reply. "You may have my sword, my life. Please, bring back my wife."
The voice, it laughed, and then replied. "On you and on yours, twenty-fold. We bind you, brave knight, and your sword, and take your oath, your word.”
The cloud grew thicker...it drowned out the light. The knight fell ill, and then fell asleep. by the kami I know this cloud!!
The sun rose, the morning came. The knight awoke, his sword in hand. It felt heavier now; no longer did it shine in his hand. He heard a gasp, and a sob of despair. The knight sat up, looking for where.
His wife was alive; in the rubble she stood. But she seemed different somehow, somewhere. Her eyes seemed dull, her hair darker still. Her skin far more ashen...her voice trembled, "what did happen?" she asked.
But the knight only stood. He stared and he wondered and he thanked the gods and the hells...His fair wife was alive, and with him still. From then on he fought with no purpose, none save for his wife...and the oath he had sworn. They still were in love, and she bore him a daughter. But the love was not strong, not as it had been, not any longer. And the knight was reminded of the bargain he'd made, day in and day out...for the monsters had carved it upon the maid.
Dzamael servant stopped us at the airship docks. wanted to speak but could not be gone from his master too long. He had overhead us asking about the house Vignesang, which he is a descendant of!! He could not speak to the location of Jessika’s family – they’d left decades ago – but he did know the legend of the knight’s wife and told it to us. I wrote it down above as he spoke…I asked him if this was nothing more than a bedtime story. He laughed,s aying most stories are just truth that’s been forgotten. Then he pointed at the scales on my side, saying I bore the same mark as the maid – the Bloodvine, the symbol of House Vignesang. He bade us leave ishgard before an over-zealous inquisitor see it, and then he left.
Dream Journal 11
((Quickly scrawled on the top of the page in atrocious handwriting is what seems like notes Anafenza has taken during a very rushed research session…))
Vignesang house accused heresy – consorting with dragons unnatural abbilities no transformation allowed? What mean?? House leader – mistress vignesang – tried at witchdrop body not found – assumed guilty of heresy. Rest of house now servants subsumed within Dzamael
Ishgard is full of records. While most literature concerning heretics and their stories were burned or just didn’t exist thanks to the War, records of trials and judgements? Plenty.
Mistress Vignesang was tried on grounds of heresy shortly after one of Nidhogg’s raids on Ishgard some hundred years ago. The woman had been seen on the top of her roof, screaming at the attacking dragons, within a maelstrom-like aura of darkness. She was tried at Witchdrop – meaning they hurled her off a cliff. If she lived, she’d have been considered guilty and struck down; if she died, she couldn’t have been in league with the dragons, and so would have enjoyed Halone’s blessing of pardon in death.
Seriously? Who believes this shite??
They never found her body at the bottom, so it was assumed she transformed into some kind of beast and escaped. Because of her guilt, the house was torn apart; surviving family members became servants to one of the great houses, Dzamael. After that, no more record of the name exists. Nothing outside of that judgement exists, either; whatever history the house had, it was destroyed.
No one at house Dzamael would speak to us. We couldn’t even get past the door guard Given our appearance, I’m sure we were immediately met with distrust despite the dragonsong war being done Any hope of speaking with any descendents is a lost cause for now.
Another dream – Again, the light-covered field. More of the child-like laughter and calling those words again Aenc Tyr The sky was a ablaze with light, but there was no warmth from a sun. It was not unpeaceful, and I awoke with the dawn feeling rested, but I write this to just continue to keep record for my own benefit. I still do not hear the song the others hear, but even my own song – the vignesang’s song, for surely it was HER’S – has grown more faint.
We return to the tower tomorrow. I don’t know about kiratai, but I should be glad to be away from this freezing hell
Dream Journal 10
We are on our way to Ishgard now to find more on “Jessielle” and her house Vignesang. Miss Sasani and Miss Sasari were…not extremely pleased to bring her up, and I can understand the pain behind it. I think most of the caravan knew once Sasani returned for a few moons and…the elezen was nowhere to be seen. Hearing more of her
Eh, probably for the best
Kiratai in his chair is a hard sight. He is so proud, and I can see it bothers him to be…helpless? Maybe that’s not how he feels, I don’t know. But he is different now. And I hate I cannot sit on his shoulder anymore
Still, he was a great comfort on the journey here. Another dream (though I obviously didn’t immediately write it down). I was younger, in the great river. It was the day I was left behind – it’s not an easy to forget setting. But I was there, looking across the steppe…and I saw one of the women again. It was the one with the arrowhead jewelry on her chest, the older one. She saw me, and we locked eyes. She immediately turned and hurried away into the rocks. I followed as quickly as I could, but when I found her, she was disappearing in a swirl of lights and chimes. Nothing remained of her there. I searched a little longer, before realizing I needed to return to the river and my family. After that, the dream was the same as it has been before – I am searching for them, and they’ve left me alone.
Dream Journal 9
He said “what if you’re dreaming of someone you used to be?” And the damn scar burned like it knew!
What if it’s not someone I used to be What if it’s someone she was?
I need to find a way to Idylshire, for the library there. Or Ishgard, to research her house
Seven hells, I hope this gives me answers…
Dream Journal 8
Another song is being heard! First this woman came to the Tower for help saying her son was acting differently, and then suddenly he was hearing a song. I was overcome with dread, but I had to ask what it sounded like. She hummed a little of it – it’s not the same song.
The song I hear is mournful, but this one she hummed was very different. I was glad to hear it was different, but honestly I do not know why I would have been so terrified. I have heard this song in my dreams for years now, ever since that day I ki-
Ever since I killed that woman And took this scar Bardam’s horn the song is connected to the scar! How didinotknowthisfromthestartimsuchanidiotwhatiswrongwithme?!!?!?!
More alarming is that Lyta also hears this music. And the kid is missing. I forgot to write that too. I’m worried about Lyta going missing now. We practiced the White Flame again and Lyta asked me to show everyone how to do it, and I did it! I was really proud!
Dream Journal 7
Aenc tyr
And now I can hardly remember the rest of the dream, dammit all. Bright sunlight steaming down through breaks in the trees. And that damnable tree was there too, darkness pouring from it as usual.
There were giggles and high-pitches laughter. Those two words repeated again and again.
It’s fading faster this time. Perhaps this really was just a dream. The other two women, the blue-skins, were there as well. And a voice, begging... open the gate?
I can’t remember any more. Aenc tyr
I need to borrow a few of the books from the library, I think…
Dream Journal 6
The dream tonight was more familiar to me. I was in a cave, the steady drip of water echoing as it fell from the ceiling. I wandered for a time, not lost but unsure of where I was to go. I finally happened upon a large cavern, with vaulting cieling above. I looked about, before I suddenly just appeared before me, as if it had been there always
In the center of the cavern stood a large tree, the trunk large around The branches were filled with leaves, despite the darkness of the cavern. An energy radiated from it, a dark aura Creeping up the trunk was a creeping vine that seemed to wind its way around the tree and up into the branches, its dark red leaves trying to choke out the tree.
I know this tree; I first saw it after I killed that woman and took that curse on me. This was nothing new to me.
I found myself compelled to touch it, and I reached out a hand. I gasped when I did as I felt a rush of energy pulse through me. I heard similar gasps of surprise from near me, and I looked up to see
What was new were the other two women in the cavern with me. Each had blue skin and hair, nearly identical in appearance save for their clothes. They seemed surprised to see me and the other, each inspecting their own tree, similar in appearance to mine except for the vine, that also stood in the cavern. The younger of the two was touching her tree with a large hand sheathed in metal. The other held a device that looked like those tomestones, the device giving off a soft chiming noise. She, too, had placed a hand cautiously on her tree.
And as we now finally saw one another, I awoke, shivering.
What is going on with me?
Dream Journal 5
This dream was full of pain. I pray even more that it was just a dream, because if this was real
I wish I could find this girl and rescue her. she was in so much pain, and so very scared. She was younger, not the same grown woman from my last dream. But the skin, the hair, the eyes I swear she was a twin, if not the same woman. But the setting was all wrong – it was dark, and dirty. It smelled of sweat and blood. Snarls and howls could be heard through the caverns. And this girl just sat, head resting on her chest, the final remnants of her sobbing slowly ending. Her legs were out in front of her as she sat, heavy chains bolted to the floor and clasped around her ankles. Her arms were held above her head, the blue skin marred with dark bruises and blood, her hands dangling limply from above the shackles around her wrists.
She coughed, weakly, before groaning, and I could feel the pain in her arms and legs. And then she, too, seemed to be aware of my presence. She couldn’t look up – so injured she was – but I knew she was talking to me.
“Please…help me.”
I know I moved toward her, but I actually did reach her. too many dreams I’ve had where I could not reach out and help, but this time I did get to her. I knelt in front of her, my hand resting softly on her cheek. “What happened,” I asked her, and she laughed bitterly.
“I’m hallucinating,” she said, slowly picking up her head to look at me. “Even you don’t know what happened”
I know I shook my head – I don’t think I said anything else the rest of the dream. I saw memories, rather than her explain what happened. Hulking men like wolves had surrounded her. She was escaping. They caught her and beat her. They broke her limbs to keep her from escaping again. She’d been here for days, hoping for rescue.
“Please…daddy…” I was brought back from the memories to see her head resting again. She was sleeping, though the look on her face showed she had no comfort here. I kissed her forehead, and before I knew it I was pulling my head out of the water of my bed. I came here frantically to write it all down – even now the memory of it is fading.
Who is this girl? What did she do to deserve such treatment? And why could she see me as well as the other…
As her twin? I know not how, but I know they were two very different people…and yet something about them is familiar to me.
Dream Journal 4
I am not sure if I should be reading more books about Allag, or any of the fictions that are in our stores concerning allag technology.
First, it was a room this time; smaller than my apartment by far, but not cramped. There was a couch off to one side, next to a window. On the other side of that was a small desk. The desk had
It was thin and rectangular. It had words and pictures on it, that kept changing, rewriting I guess. I didn’t recognize the words – whatever language it was, I didn’t know it. There were similar glass rectangles with words and pictures flashing and rewriting on the far wall as well, next to a door that I assume led out to another room. The window showed a vast night sky, with stars far more immeasurable than any sky I’ve ever seen.
There was a small hiss, and the doors opened. A woman walked in, face down and studying what looked like one of those allagan tomestones, though it was larger than ones I’ve seen. She was wearing black pants, and a top that was black but with white shoulders and a red stripe separating the black from the white. There was a arrowhead pinned on her chest, silver. She had blue skin, and short blue hair and piercing blue eyes – I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to have that much blue on them naturally
She rounded the corner of the desk and sat down. After a moment of reading the device she dropped it on the desk and reached for a white ball that she had sitting on it. She tossed it into the air and then, as it came back down, bumped it back up with both hands. She did this a few times, oblivious to me – I think I was a ghost, watching this dream.
And then she dropped the ball, and stared right at me. Her eyes blinked a few times, her mouth hanging open. I didn’t know what to do either. We just stared at one another. And then she laughed a little and said the oddest thing.
“It’s you!”
I woke up then. I don’t know what that dream was, and I certainly didn’t recognize her. Who was she? What was that place?
Was I even dreaming?
Dream Journal 3
More flying tonight, but the storm – gods the storm was incredible! So much rage and anguish carried on the winds, and the rain was biting cold and sharp as needles. But it didn’t stop me I just flew faster and faster, through the canyon of steel of glass. People hurried around beneath me – they all looked like hyur, but the clothing was strange. Still I just flew and flew, feeling more of the energy as I did before.
I felt overcome with grief? Pain? I realized I was crying but i didn’t know why. It was a sadness I am not familiar with
and I realized too that I was crying. I slowed my flying, feeling my face
my hand was blue! I didn’t know how or why but the skin was blue, and without scales The surprise stopped my tears and, just like that, the sky cleared. No biting rain, no strong winds whipping my face, no clouds hiding the late evening sky
My chest burned, and I hiccupped, but this pain in my heart…I do not know why I was so sad that I would make the sky weep with me
24S, 5AM
Another clear dream. Now and then they are crystal clear as if I am watching events unfold before me, a witness to things. Of course I have had dreams like these before, of memories of the Steppe. My tribe, my parents and family
This was strange though, fantastic in nature. I was flying, as easily as I could swim through a river. I could feel the wind in my face whipping my hair behind my head. I felt an energy wrapping around me, electric. I laughed and it was then I recognized the sound was not my voice but my head voice.
Everyone has a voice they use in their minds. I noticed some time ago mine is not the same as my spoken voice, and I know not when the two changed. But this voice I heard while flying over mountains of glass and steel was the one in my mind. I knew it was a dream then – because obviously the flying didn’t give it away. But when I realized I was dreaming I stopped in mid-air and turned to the mirrored surface of a mountain to look at my reflection, feeling something was amiss and that I was being watched. I managed to catch a glimpse of blue before I woke, and found myself in bed in my room, splashing in the shallow water.
Dream Journal, Entry 1
On the front page, the word “Diary” is crossed out and scribbled over, and written hastily above it are the words “dream journal”
“Keep a journal by your bed so when you wake up you can write down as much as you can remember.” Thats what she said, so thats what this is: a dream journal now. It was not working out well as a diary anyway so there is that too. And since the dreams have started to come more maybe this will be better. I can hardly remember much of them by the time I wake except that damned tree and the miasma
And more voices too! Female voices, and the same voice too but doing different things. And the song, always the song.
There is a long break, before more writing on the second half of the page, somewhat more sloppy and hastily written…
They were there again. In the dark miasma. The two voices had shadows too. One was standing pointing here and there and shouting. There was a noise like those sirens the Garleans use, and she said something about bringing up shields. I looked to the other side of the tree, and another shadow was sitting. She was crying; I could tell it was the same voice, but she seemed built different. There was a low rumble of thunder as well – it was raining while she cried. I don’t know what she was crying about.
I had a really weird dream last night
It didn't start where this post begins, but this is the weird part (also can't remember how it started lol)
I was looking at stairs behind me(one outside that has only like 5 stairs, with the rail) on the corner if a building that were made out of bricks, and I remember very distinctly the feeling of dread as I realised that I had seen those steps before and I knew where they were from(I've never actually seen the steps In a dream before. I've only dreamed of the place once)
Horror found it's way Into my chest and sure enough, I turn back to face in front of me and I was there. A teacher from my school was practically in my and my friends(who was sitting next to me) faces telling us something. I think she was trying to make a threat sound comforting? I don't remember.
I look past her and I see The Bridge(which I've never dreamed about before, but recognised) over nothing but white abyss leading to the other side of the place(which was connected to where I was sitting anyway I think), and I knew that I would have to cross that unstable, rickety-wooden-straight-out-of-an-adventure-movie-and-about-to-break Bridge
My friend didn't seem at all bothered by this, but the horror I felt was so strong that I dream transported myself with no inbetween
One second I was looking at a black haired woman while feeling nothing positive, and the next I was at a place I had never been, getting ready for a performance of some kind that somehow evolved into my helping cartoon looking hence men hide their hobbies because the Boss was coming back. Their lair was in my house.
Just my “dream journal”. Hmmm should I finish these sketches??
Dream Journal
Last night I dreamt I had a jar of black flies ( you know, the ones that bite ) and my job was to keep adding flies, but only keep so many alive, while killing the rest. Id open the lid fast and mash my hand in and kill so many and scoop them out then add more live ones. Apparently my subconscious brain likes to tie math to living shit or something.
Dream Journal
Last night I dreamt that I was trying to create matter and life, I’m not sure if I was rebuilding the Earth because it was destroyed, if I was god, or what. I was in a place filled with bags of powdered material, which I had to combine with water to make different things. Like, for example I had a bag of cow meat dust, and a bag of bone dust, and I would measure these out and mix with water and shape to recreate a cow.
Your guess is as good as mine.
Dream Journals
I’ve decided to start writing dreams down, so I might as well take up space here with em, some will be old dreams I remember still, some will be new dreams, just dreams, the only time we’re honest with ourselves and therefore the most honest i can be with you ( not that my 3 day old tumblr has alot of readers yet )
October 15th or something: Fell asleep drunk watching the walking dead, dreamed I was being attacked by cops, it was a good ol time for a while til i was overwhelmed. They’re run up, id stab them in the heart, another would come, stab, etc, eventually there was too many to stab and i ran, pretty self explanatory really, dreams are half subconscious mind and half replaying what we’ve seen experienced that day. Now if i had that dream on say a Bahama vacation, well, worry then