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Aug. 2nd, 2009 08:20 pmJust woke up from a three hour nap that was probably a bad idea, considering it's now 20:50 and I'll very likely be up all night, but I sort of just fell asleep over my book, and had the weirdest dream ever.
The first bit that I really remember, although it didn't start there, was getting away from somewhere driving a motorbike, which I didn't know how to do even in my dream, so I was constantly in almost-accidents, driving beside the street, etc., and finally ended up on some sort of construction site (thinking I must have missed the warning signs even though I thought I'd been looking) where the street was getting built, tarred, etc. by some strange, big machines, and suddenly everything was closed and I was hiding and couldn't get out. Stepping on hot, wet (asphalt?).
At this point it suddenly turned into a weird Torchwood cross-over where I (and suddenly there was someone else, too, although I didn't exactly know him; I knew we were on the same side, though) was discovering some sort of crime - environment/pollution related, I think, because there suddenly was a lot of white stuff everywhere that looked like snow, but I knew wasn't snow.
I don't quite remember the next bit, but I and some other people were captured, and they were trying to make us tell something, and we wouldn't. (I think. That part is very vague.)
Then suddenly they'd given me something to drink and I was kind of dying from it (trying to throw up; toilet with really beautiful old painted tiles, like those Portuguese ones; blue), but maybe not, because suddenly I knew I was Jack, except in a different body (female, mine) although in my dream I didn't remember exactly why, or how this had happened, and I was maybe in some kind of asylum, and someone told me there was a visitor for me, and I ran into a different room, where all kinds of visitor were waiting, and all of a sudden I knew I was acting this, this was being filmed, and I ran, and there was an actor who I knew was supposed to be my father waiting for me, and was telling me something important, and I knew I couldn't do this, couldn't act this, and - here's the really funny thing, only it wasn't so funny in my dream - it all was because RTD had written this for me, except I hadn't known it would be like this, family related, and that he'd somehow met my father and therefore picked an actor who looked like him, and I stopped it all and said I couldn't do this, and then had this discussion with him (RTD) where I kept telling him I couldn't act it like this, I couldn't act my relationship with my own father, because it was so problematic in real life, and kept asking, how did he expect me to play the scene, and he said something like, 'So that it feels real for you'.
Then the dream transformed completely and I suddenly had a lot of Arab relatives who were visiting, don't ask me where that bit came from. In the dream I thought they were somehow related to my great aunt's Jewish husband whom I've never met in my life and who was from Slovakia and not the least bit Arabic.
Crazy.
Times like this I really want to know what goes on in my brain when I don't remember my dreams. I mean, RTD? Seriously? Giving me advice in my sleep?
The first bit that I really remember, although it didn't start there, was getting away from somewhere driving a motorbike, which I didn't know how to do even in my dream, so I was constantly in almost-accidents, driving beside the street, etc., and finally ended up on some sort of construction site (thinking I must have missed the warning signs even though I thought I'd been looking) where the street was getting built, tarred, etc. by some strange, big machines, and suddenly everything was closed and I was hiding and couldn't get out. Stepping on hot, wet (asphalt?).
At this point it suddenly turned into a weird Torchwood cross-over where I (and suddenly there was someone else, too, although I didn't exactly know him; I knew we were on the same side, though) was discovering some sort of crime - environment/pollution related, I think, because there suddenly was a lot of white stuff everywhere that looked like snow, but I knew wasn't snow.
I don't quite remember the next bit, but I and some other people were captured, and they were trying to make us tell something, and we wouldn't. (I think. That part is very vague.)
Then suddenly they'd given me something to drink and I was kind of dying from it (trying to throw up; toilet with really beautiful old painted tiles, like those Portuguese ones; blue), but maybe not, because suddenly I knew I was Jack, except in a different body (female, mine) although in my dream I didn't remember exactly why, or how this had happened, and I was maybe in some kind of asylum, and someone told me there was a visitor for me, and I ran into a different room, where all kinds of visitor were waiting, and all of a sudden I knew I was acting this, this was being filmed, and I ran, and there was an actor who I knew was supposed to be my father waiting for me, and was telling me something important, and I knew I couldn't do this, couldn't act this, and - here's the really funny thing, only it wasn't so funny in my dream - it all was because RTD had written this for me, except I hadn't known it would be like this, family related, and that he'd somehow met my father and therefore picked an actor who looked like him, and I stopped it all and said I couldn't do this, and then had this discussion with him (RTD) where I kept telling him I couldn't act it like this, I couldn't act my relationship with my own father, because it was so problematic in real life, and kept asking, how did he expect me to play the scene, and he said something like, 'So that it feels real for you'.
Then the dream transformed completely and I suddenly had a lot of Arab relatives who were visiting, don't ask me where that bit came from. In the dream I thought they were somehow related to my great aunt's Jewish husband whom I've never met in my life and who was from Slovakia and not the least bit Arabic.
Crazy.
Times like this I really want to know what goes on in my brain when I don't remember my dreams. I mean, RTD? Seriously? Giving me advice in my sleep?
