I Resist the Muses

What do you dream about?

What do I dream about? Do you really want to know that? I don’t know if I should tell you what I dream about. I mean some things are private. Dreams are your mind’s way of throwing all kinds of weird stuff at you, like those naked dreams, you know, the ones where you walk into work naked? That’s more a night mare though, because you don’t know it’s a dream and you’re standing in of a station full of people and they’re staring at you, and you’re naked.

I don’t have a lot of naked dreams. It’s not like I go to bed at night and hope I dream of myself naked. I like what do you call them? Wish fulfilment dreams. You know driving along in a mint condition 1971 Buick Riveria (that has never been blown up) on a sunny day, no traffic, nobody phoning me and asking me to pick up some lettuce on the way home. Just me and the open road, and maybe having Benny with me, only he won’t tell me Inuit stories. Oh yeah and me not being naked. I like those dreams. I just wish I had them more than those damn naked ones.

Muse: Ray Vecchio
Fandom: due South
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What do you dream about?

I'm not sure what I dream about sometimes. All there are are fractured images. Often one of those images will be snow. Sometimes it is as of I am fighting my way through a blizzard. There is a white swirling around me, I’m lost, I can’t see anything beyond the white and the wind is harsh against my skin. I call out but I can't hear myself above the noise of the storm. I've been in blizzards and dreaming about them takes me back to times when I've been at natures mercy. I often wondering if dreaming about blizzards means I am lacking direction in my one life, that I feel lost.

Not all my dreams are as dramatic as that though. Sometimes I will dream of sow, soft, yielding, familiar. It reminds me of home. Feeling homesick I dream of snow and suddenly home doesn't feel so far away. Perhaps that's why I dream of blizzards - trying to find my place, my home.

Of course dreams are rarely that straightforward. The symbolism of dreams can be interpreted many ways. I’ve only studied a small number of texts on the subject. Perhaps I'm lost, looking for home or perhaps I just can't see the home in front of me. But whatever it is I know I will dream of snow again, and look for its meaning. Perhaps this time I will find it.

Muse: Benton Fraser
Fandom: due South

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I'm not sure if it’s a dream or just a memory that played nightly after it happened. I mean nothing changed from the reality of that day, and nothing was in slow motion, or anything else dreamstate like. We’re all in the Tutor Center and Jimmie is still holding his gun on us.

I don’t know. Maybe I played it over and over again wondering if I missed something. If there was any way for that day to end differently. Would Keith still be alive if Jimmie hadn’t left the center? Would Jimmie still have committed suicide because he just got tired? So many questions and there never were any answers. Maybe that’s another reason why I saw it every night. I was hoping to find answers, to find a reason beyond that I stopped being Jimmie’s friend and noticing he was in trouble.

Sure, I could use the excuse that I was away on tour while he was having trouble. But the truth was that I didn’t stay in contact with any of my friends when I left. I didn’t call Luke as much as I should have and I never wrote to Peyton or Brooke. I told myself it was because of the tour and everything, but it wasn’t. That’s just an excuse. It was because I knew they would shine the light of truth on the person I’d become and it wasn’t really a pretty picture. In my dream Jimmie might have represented the friends I let down. The people that I didn’t share the burden of life with.

I guess I hoped I could save Jimmie night after night. He was a good person and I really hate that everyone only remembers the day that he was too tired to go on. Too tired to fight the teasing, the jeers and everything else life handed him. What is that saying? Twenty/twenty hindsight. It was a horrible day, but there was good that came out of it. Marcus, who was an ass, stopped being one. People that would have made fun of Jimmie or others like him took a minute before they did it to someone else.

I’m not naive enough to think it stopped. It probably only lasted a week or two, but in that week or two we got along and thought about others.

The electrical blue lightening bolt ricocheted around Gwen Raiden’s bedroom as she was pulled out of her sleep. The edges of the dream barely hanging on to her waking mind. “Shit.” The word was mumbled as she reached for the ever present long gloves next to her bed.

She hated the feeling that accompanied the thoughts of her parents and she rarely dreamed of those years. It was only when her guard was down, when she was exhausted, that the incident of the first lightning strike came back to haunt her. Not the incident itself, since that was a grand adventure, but her parents reaction when they learned she’d been kissed by Mani’to, the Lenape god of lightning.

The large tree on the edge of the Minnesota lake, of the family summer estate, had been the focus of her dream. Gwen could feel the same excitement that she’d felt waiting to see the face of a god all those years ago. With the surreal landscape of a dream, the movie in her mind had taken an unexpected turn. She was no longer sitting in the comforting arms of the tree, instead Gwen found herself in an overstuffed chair receiving the typical disapproving lectures that her parents had perfected over the years.

It was the look in their eyes that brought back the feelings of inferiority that she’d overcome as an adult. Gwen had learned what the word freak had meant the day that she’d been first struck by lightning. Her parents had whispered it into the phone when they’d called Lydia Thorpe.

Shaking her head in self-disgust, Gwen slid the offending glove off again and felt the electricity crackle around her fingertips. Hell, if she’d let them ruin her life again. A satisfying large bolt of electricity flew from her hands and shattered a vase across the room. “I never did like that anyway.” It wasn’t her parents, but it was a satisfactory substitution for her anger.


Muse: Gwen Raiden
Fandom: Angel the Series
Word Count: 328

Character: Cesare Borgia
Fandom: Cantarella/history
Prompt: #14 - Dreams
Rating: PG
*****

They say a failsafe method to have strange dreams is to think about what you did that day before you fall asleep. I've heard this only recently, I'll admit, but it rings true. It explains many a scare I received in Morpheus' arms. And I'm not referring to your usual parade of leering succubi. Or incubi, for that matter.

The most terrible dream I ever had, though, was not a ( figment of the mind. )

[open]

I do not, by nature, remember my dreams.

[closed]

I choose not to do so.

If I wake with the stink of smoke in my nostrils, I choose to believe that Anakin has burnt breakfast again. It is not the smell of a lightsaber sliding through my Master's flesh. It is not the smell of the funeral pyre. It is simply a clue that it would be better to choose grains over eggs on that particular morning.

If I wake with the bitterness of copper heavy on my tongue, I choose to believe that I have accidentally bitten my cheek in the night, even if I cannot find the place inside my mouth where teeth scored flesh. It is not the lingering after-taste of the blood I coughed up in Ventress' presence. It is not the scarlet I shed on Jabiim. It is simply a matter of having pressed my face into the pillow at the wrong angle.

If I wake too hot, my hands still clenched as if locked on broad, sweat-slick shoulders, I choose to believe that what the body cries out for the heart does not necessarily need. It is not a proof of any feeling. It is not one more time I've turned my back on the Code. It is simply an indication that a cold shower is in order and nothing more.

And if I wake gasping, unable to breathe because the sight of that masked, durasteel monster fills the entirety of my mind's eye, I choose to believe the image is only a dream and not a vision. It is not a prophecy. It is not a sign of something that is coming, something that I cannot avoid, something that will take from me all that I know. It is simply...

It is simply the reason I choose not to remember my dreams.

310 words, RP away if you can find a hook.

Mostly, I dream about I time when I can be myself without harm to anyone around me.

[closed]
Being married and having a lover is not how I imagined my life going. I need each person for who they are. I'm not cheating to hurt anyone, but I can't help thinking that is the way it's going.
[/closed]

I want to make a difference in the universe. I want to be the one who has a major art in stopping this senseless war. The universe is big enough for every specie to live in it peacefully.

I want to be the best at what I do. I have to be.



Comments/RP welcome.

What do you dream about?

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