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I'll show you where the best of me has been.
Monday, 21 May 2012 22:00Sex. And dreams.
It's said that some people dream in black and white. It's an interesting thing, because I always dream in color. I very rarely have nightmares, and most of the dreams I can remember are pleasant. There are some that I remember very vividly, many years later, because they were so fucking odd and strange, the stuff of maybe one of Lovecraft's eldritch adventures (although I haven't dreamt of anything yet quite as bizarre as Randolph Carter's unknown Kadath).
However, I do dream about sex pretty regularly. As a caveat, I take no responsibility for what my subconscious does while I sleep. It's interesting, though, because it doesn't really matter the timing that they occur. I could be getting laid nightly, and the sex dreams could still come.
Some things amongst these dreams are common throughout: every time it's with a different woman. I've never had consecutive sex dreams where I've banged the same woman (or women--threesomes do happen, but they're very, very rare). In almost every dream, the woman is someone I know personally, always a friend. It is very, very rare that my brain just invents a fictitious lady. I'm amused that my brain keeps a Rolodex of all the female friends I have, and pulls out a random one each time. I've dreamt multiple times of having sex with the same lady, but again, never consecutively.
Another commonality: if April is the one that comes up in the rotation, it means that we have gone too long without having sex. My brain only uses her when we've gone without for some weeks. Or, if we've gone a long while without sexing each other, my subconscious will invariably create a cockblock with whoever I'm dreaming about banging, like some event occurs to prevent consummation, or I wake up.
Also, it's never just sex. The dreams invariably do have a plot to them--it's never some sort of cheap porn setting. The sex is usually in the context of the dream itself, a function of the exposition. For example (and, just be forewarned, I have no idea what my subconscious gets up to while I'm sleeping, so bear with me): last week, I had a dream that Renaissance Faires were made illegal by the federal government for not being Republican enough. I can't get much more specific. As a result, the government was rounding up everyone who ever worked, attended, and/or somehow took part in a Faire, and was going to punish us liberal-minded, free-thinking Rennies by death (again, why my brain comes up with this dystopian nonsense...I'm not even on any mind-altering substances at the moment).
However, because the prison system was already overcrowded, the government was going to put us in specific houses, where then a federal agent would come and kill us. The house I was in was my grandparents' townhouse--where I lived when I was FIVE. My brain pulled up the house I lived in TWENTY ONE YEARS AGO.
Anyway, in this house were a few members of the NYRF cast (don't remember who, alas), the character Miranda from Mass Effect 2 (how the FUCK she made it in this I have no idea), and the girl I'm going to be fucking, unbeknownst to me (I'll refrain from using her name so I don't embarrass the shit out of her if she reads this). All of us in the house engage in talks to try to get out of our fate, despite the Feds taking very good measures at preventing our escape. Why or how the Feds became the Gestapo I have no idea--the dream began (or what I remember of it) in medias res.
During a break in the talks, I head upstairs and into the bedroom where I and my mom used to sleep. My brain remembers every detail of that house--where my uncle's bedroom used to be before he joined the Navy, then moved to Vegas, my grandparents' bedroom (including their twin mattresses--they never slept on the same bed. That confused the shit out of me at age 5), the bathroom with its ancient tile work...hell, the only thing missing from this house were my grandparents and the dog, Chumley.
But I digress. In my former bedroom, there is said female friend, already very naked, and very sexy. Friend has resigned herself to the fact that we're all going to die at any moment (because we never know when the Feds are gonna show up and kill us), and that if we're gonna die, we might as well go out happy. So we have sex, and it's very long and drawn out. It seems like we've gone at it from all positions--we go at it for a very long time, it seems.
Not too long after, as we're beginning to dress, I hear gunshots coming from downstairs--
--and that was when I woke up, with a massive erection.
No mess, though. Despite the regular occurrence of sex dreams, they never end (if the dream takes me through to orgasm) with me waking up with a need to change underwear, which is very nice of my body, because semen clings to everything.
Now, dreams that I have when on mind-bending opiates...HA. That's a whole 'nother post.
So there we go. Not that I'm asking for any interpretation of my dreams, but what say you, Freud?
It's said that some people dream in black and white. It's an interesting thing, because I always dream in color. I very rarely have nightmares, and most of the dreams I can remember are pleasant. There are some that I remember very vividly, many years later, because they were so fucking odd and strange, the stuff of maybe one of Lovecraft's eldritch adventures (although I haven't dreamt of anything yet quite as bizarre as Randolph Carter's unknown Kadath).
However, I do dream about sex pretty regularly. As a caveat, I take no responsibility for what my subconscious does while I sleep. It's interesting, though, because it doesn't really matter the timing that they occur. I could be getting laid nightly, and the sex dreams could still come.
Some things amongst these dreams are common throughout: every time it's with a different woman. I've never had consecutive sex dreams where I've banged the same woman (or women--threesomes do happen, but they're very, very rare). In almost every dream, the woman is someone I know personally, always a friend. It is very, very rare that my brain just invents a fictitious lady. I'm amused that my brain keeps a Rolodex of all the female friends I have, and pulls out a random one each time. I've dreamt multiple times of having sex with the same lady, but again, never consecutively.
Another commonality: if April is the one that comes up in the rotation, it means that we have gone too long without having sex. My brain only uses her when we've gone without for some weeks. Or, if we've gone a long while without sexing each other, my subconscious will invariably create a cockblock with whoever I'm dreaming about banging, like some event occurs to prevent consummation, or I wake up.
Also, it's never just sex. The dreams invariably do have a plot to them--it's never some sort of cheap porn setting. The sex is usually in the context of the dream itself, a function of the exposition. For example (and, just be forewarned, I have no idea what my subconscious gets up to while I'm sleeping, so bear with me): last week, I had a dream that Renaissance Faires were made illegal by the federal government for not being Republican enough. I can't get much more specific. As a result, the government was rounding up everyone who ever worked, attended, and/or somehow took part in a Faire, and was going to punish us liberal-minded, free-thinking Rennies by death (again, why my brain comes up with this dystopian nonsense...I'm not even on any mind-altering substances at the moment).
However, because the prison system was already overcrowded, the government was going to put us in specific houses, where then a federal agent would come and kill us. The house I was in was my grandparents' townhouse--where I lived when I was FIVE. My brain pulled up the house I lived in TWENTY ONE YEARS AGO.
Anyway, in this house were a few members of the NYRF cast (don't remember who, alas), the character Miranda from Mass Effect 2 (how the FUCK she made it in this I have no idea), and the girl I'm going to be fucking, unbeknownst to me (I'll refrain from using her name so I don't embarrass the shit out of her if she reads this). All of us in the house engage in talks to try to get out of our fate, despite the Feds taking very good measures at preventing our escape. Why or how the Feds became the Gestapo I have no idea--the dream began (or what I remember of it) in medias res.
During a break in the talks, I head upstairs and into the bedroom where I and my mom used to sleep. My brain remembers every detail of that house--where my uncle's bedroom used to be before he joined the Navy, then moved to Vegas, my grandparents' bedroom (including their twin mattresses--they never slept on the same bed. That confused the shit out of me at age 5), the bathroom with its ancient tile work...hell, the only thing missing from this house were my grandparents and the dog, Chumley.
But I digress. In my former bedroom, there is said female friend, already very naked, and very sexy. Friend has resigned herself to the fact that we're all going to die at any moment (because we never know when the Feds are gonna show up and kill us), and that if we're gonna die, we might as well go out happy. So we have sex, and it's very long and drawn out. It seems like we've gone at it from all positions--we go at it for a very long time, it seems.
Not too long after, as we're beginning to dress, I hear gunshots coming from downstairs--
--and that was when I woke up, with a massive erection.
No mess, though. Despite the regular occurrence of sex dreams, they never end (if the dream takes me through to orgasm) with me waking up with a need to change underwear, which is very nice of my body, because semen clings to everything.
Now, dreams that I have when on mind-bending opiates...HA. That's a whole 'nother post.
So there we go. Not that I'm asking for any interpretation of my dreams, but what say you, Freud?
