Last night I wrote the greatest episode of Workaholics ever.
I was dreaming, mind you, but I swear it really was fantastic. In my dreams I have the ability to judge quality as it pertains to the waking world. Had it been crap, I would be telling you that I wrote a crappy episode of Workaholics. But I didn’t. It was great.
Now, a scant fourteen hours later I have lost all semblance of plot, story arc, dialogue and direction. It’s all gone.
During the dream I vowed that as soon as I awoke I would scribble down all the details as I knew I had just a few minutes before consciousness would sweep it away.
The problem is that waking up is the most exhausting activity I do all day. I need to get back to nine hours a night. That’s my magic number. But who has time for nine hours of sleeping except depressives? Not this auteur!
Two years ago I wrote the greatest dramatic movie of all time rivaling Citizen Kane and Gone With the Wind. I’m not trying to brag. In my non-dream world, I can’t write stuff like this. So, it’s not an ego thing.
Example: In my freshman year of college, I had a dream where I composed an amazing pop song. It was great. Once again, I swore that when I woke up I would remember it and write it in a notebook. In fact I planned out that I would grab my guitar and start strumming along until I had it perfect. My roommate would just have to deal.
I woke up, waited five seconds, and decided the floor was really cold. Plus, I knew the song perfectly in that moment. I could go back to sleep. So I did.
Fifteen years later I still have not written one good song.
Now, I have plenty of talents in the real world. I’m a pretty good employee, a caring guy, funny, and I love my pets, friends, and family. I’m creative, and this blog allows me to use what’s on the inside of my head to connect with the inside of your head. That’s pretty cool. Magical, really.
I’m not complaining.
I just want this exact experience to happen one day: I dream about something really cool happening, like writing a great story for the blog (I’ve had those, too). I swear I’m going to remember it, and when I wake up, I actually write it down. Then, I let it sit for twenty-four hours, look back at it, and objectively decide if it was as brilliant in real life as it seemed in my dreams.
The problem is that these type of dreams only come along a few times a year. The rest of the time it’s about me forgetting to go to a college course all semester and then showing up totally unprepared for the exam. This one pops into my dream rotation at least twice a week.
At least I don’t have the teeth falling out one anymore. That one sucked.
LauLau81 says:
Great article… This is very inspiring! Thank you for sharing and hope to read some more from you.
D.J. Paris says:
@LauLau81 Thanks for being a new reader! Feel free to read my most popular stories over on the right. Also, please “like” my facebook page, also on the right. Lastly, what kind of name is LauLau?
jennapooh1971 says:
Do you dream in color or black and white? And are you always physically a white male? My best friend and I have been taking a poll for 6 years. She thinks my dreams are weird, I think hers are boring. According to our poll 2/3 of the population have dreams that are as boring as hers are. I blame American Idol.
D.J. Paris says:
@jennapooh1971 Yes I dream in color. I’m not a dog. Newsflash – everyone that isn’t you is not interested in your dreams. Trust me.
jennapooh1971 says:
Not contents, streaker, I know no one cares about that. She (and many others, check around) dream in black and white, and she looks as she does in the mirror, blonde white female. I have been many different races and both genders, sometimes switching midstream. Most people we asked replied they were always same race and gender. That’s what I consider the boring part. Now go enjoy that rainbow smart aleck. 🙂
D.J. Paris says:
@jennapooh1971 Here’s one thing that does happen to me. Once every few months I wake up, on my back, with my arms straight out in the air, pointing to the ceiling. One arm is lightly tickling the other forearm up and down. This is the most pleasurable sensation ever. It’s pure ecstasy. (other people experience this, too)
jennapooh1971 says:
Oh, I know what that is! If the left arm is tickling the right arm it means your father is conditioning his body hair, and if your right arm is tickling your left arm it means your sister is having a nightmare about your bare buttocks. Yung explained all this in his human collective workup. Or was it Nietzsche? I only ever have one of these occur, you’re very lucky to have both. What you want to avoid is the ‘feet tickling the leg’ wake-ups, the prognosis for those are shudder inducing. Though it would increase your chances of one day being accepted in Cirque Du Soliel. The French Canadians, go figure.