Dina
Dreamer
I used to lucid dream in middle-school because my anxiety kept me in a state of half-awake nervousness the entire time I slept. I don't do that anymore, not that my anxiety's gone, it's just moved to the point right before I go to sleep, to the point where I can lay in bed for three hours before I do lose consciousness.
I suppose you could say this particular dream was semi-lucid.
I was in my room, reading, when I heard a knock on the window. The world kinda pan-zoomed on the window, like in a movie you know?, and there was my dog. Or a pizza. It was the weirdest thing. No mistaking, that was my dog, but he was also made of freshly-grated mozzarella. Don't imagine anything gross, like his innards were mixed up with cheese. It was sillier than that. He looked like a cartoon dog, or a rag-doll, or something stuffed you'd find on a toy shelf. We stared at each other for a while, he panting, I gaping, and —
That's it.
The entirety of my dream was spent in a staring contest with my dog, who had somehow went and exchanged the atoms of his flesh for those that make up a block of cheese.
I suppose you could say this particular dream was semi-lucid.
I was in my room, reading, when I heard a knock on the window. The world kinda pan-zoomed on the window, like in a movie you know?, and there was my dog. Or a pizza. It was the weirdest thing. No mistaking, that was my dog, but he was also made of freshly-grated mozzarella. Don't imagine anything gross, like his innards were mixed up with cheese. It was sillier than that. He looked like a cartoon dog, or a rag-doll, or something stuffed you'd find on a toy shelf. We stared at each other for a while, he panting, I gaping, and —
That's it.
The entirety of my dream was spent in a staring contest with my dog, who had somehow went and exchanged the atoms of his flesh for those that make up a block of cheese.
Inkling
