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I have weird dreams too. last night i dreamed I was getting new born puppies. and I picked one up, and it was a piece of toast, and as I was eating it it was becoming a dog, and when i put it down it was all messed up and bloody from where I ate it.

That's really interesting. Usually when I have dreams they're about things that are about to happen or people I going to meet and choices to be made. Let's hope your dream is only fiction, because that would stink. You have a lady friend or a girlfriend?

No, I haven't seen dreamcatcher.

Glad to hear that.

Anubis, do you dream like that frequently? I do. They often resemble science fiction or dystopian stories.

Sometimes I wake up and I know I had a dream of that sort, but I can't remember it. When that happens, in my head I have the image of myself trying to grasp the edge of of a shadowy sort of veil as it is blown away in the wind.

I get those types of dreams, too, Flagg... sometimes. Once I dreamt that Hitler was a sandwich.

Has anyone ever had dreams about computer games? And you come up with the solution for the problem you're faced with? Anything like that?

Yes!

I invented a novel type of video game in my sleep once! I was so psyched. I tossed the idea around for years. Then I found out that it had already pretty much been done. Mine was less mythical and more science based, however.

E.V.O.: Search for Eden

Was he ham on rye with extra mayo?

June 7, 2002

In the wee hours I had an odd dream. I sat like a campfire girl at a rectangular card table in front of a supermarket no one ever goes to. With me were several women my age, each embodying a stereotype: goth, emo, mouse, butch-lesbian, prep, etc. I was seated in the middle, like Jesus at the Last Supper, and I represented the stereotype of "all people who are like me"…whatever that means.

We were slicing loaves of bread and making sandwiches. Laid out on the table were all kinds of magical sandwich fillers meticulously arranged on white ceramic plates. Each was labeled clearly: lettuce of Voltaire, ham of Locke, tomatoes of Arnold, chicken of Cobain, dill pickles of Jefferson, and on and on…there were actually more plates than could possibly fit on the table, yet they did fit, and with room to spare. All of the plates were dedicated to men made famous partly (or completely, in some cases) through the sharing of their ideas.

It was hundreds of years in the future. We women around the table were united in one way: the belief that men were once intelligent, but were no longer…so we refused to associate with men of our time. We ourselves were born geniuses, but we had concluded that no world view could be complete without comprehension of what we viewed to be men’s unique manner of perception (nor could a man’s view be complete without woman, but that was unimportant, as we were concerned only with our own enrichment, and were none too eager to share ourselves). We also wanted to absorb the knowledge of dead men we admired. Eating the sandwiches allowed us to do these things. The side effect of acquiring knowledge like this was that we would become a bit like whatever man the knowledge came from.

The other women chattered as they made and ate sandwiches. I sat in silence, making a sandwiches and promptly disposing of almost the entire thing. I was picking out the good parts only, not wishing to fill my stomach (and mind) with "fluff". So I’d make an entire "man sandwich", stick my fingers in the middle, pluck out only a small bit of it, eat that, and throw the rest of the sandwich over my shoulder. This gave me an advantage because I was able to get what I wanted without becoming too full of what I didn’t want.

Some of the women became addicted to one kind of sandwich. They found something they liked, and they kept making and eating only that kind of sandwich until they were too sick to think of anything else. This happened to both the goth and the prep, and they were lost to us. Others continued to fill up on fluff, ending up tasting only two or three different kinds of sandwiches. Others watched my example and began to copy me, picking out the best parts and moving on, leading to a wider range of experiences (and no fat tummies ^_^ )

Cold turkey sat alone on its plate. No one dared to touch it, much less make a sandwich of it. It was "Hitler Turkey". Once I’d picked out all the useful parts of every other man I was interested in (which was not nearly all of them), I broke my silence by saying, "I think I always wanted to try Hitler Turkey." Everyone stopped talking immediately, and stared at me with shocked expressions…for a moment. Then everyone leaned their heads forward and confided in low voices, "So have I..." So I made a Hitler sandwich, ate the best part, and threw the rest over my shoulder. Then I woke up.

Why couldn’t I just dream about making out or something? >_<

I may have dreamed that I was in a video game once or twice, but I never had an idea for one from a dream. I do have plenty of ideas that I made up consciously though.

Awesome