Monday, February 13, 2006
lucid dreaming
My friend Emily dreamed she had a pet octopus that sang like Jim Morrison. It didn't have to be underwater, as long as it had a tentacle in something wet. It made her feel better about her life.
I keep having nightmares about my research going horribly wrong. Animal resources shuts us down. Someone guts my birds like a savage. I set them all free on accident. It makes me feel worse about mine.
Emily asked if I was a lucid dreamer. When a friend of hers realizes that she is dreaming, she takes control. She flies, takes over countries, makes out with boys.
If I could control what happened in my dreams, I'd invent a cat that would stand guard over my birds during the night. He wouldn't want to eat them, obviously. Then I wouldn't have to be anxious about my little pretties while I'm resting. And maybe I'd grow wings and fly back and forth with my goldfinches in their cage.
A lecture is a waking dream, in its own way. This realization has renewed the joy of learning for me: Four days a week, Dr. Wit makes his laser pointer dance on the wall as he sings to us the Songs of Innerspace. And then, Dr. Roberts turns the lights down low as she tells a tale to make your cytoplasm quiver.
I keep having nightmares about my research going horribly wrong. Animal resources shuts us down. Someone guts my birds like a savage. I set them all free on accident. It makes me feel worse about mine.
Emily asked if I was a lucid dreamer. When a friend of hers realizes that she is dreaming, she takes control. She flies, takes over countries, makes out with boys.
If I could control what happened in my dreams, I'd invent a cat that would stand guard over my birds during the night. He wouldn't want to eat them, obviously. Then I wouldn't have to be anxious about my little pretties while I'm resting. And maybe I'd grow wings and fly back and forth with my goldfinches in their cage.
A lecture is a waking dream, in its own way. This realization has renewed the joy of learning for me: Four days a week, Dr. Wit makes his laser pointer dance on the wall as he sings to us the Songs of Innerspace. And then, Dr. Roberts turns the lights down low as she tells a tale to make your cytoplasm quiver.
