2005-01-10 - 11:15 a.m.

My dreams own me.

I
am
not
yet
awake
;
;
;

I've been sleeping a lot lately... eleven, twelve hours at a time. I am adicted- I don't want to wake up.

You see, I dream.

This morning, in between dreaming and more dreaming, I awoke for about 15 minutes. In that time, I remembered the Sandman comic in which a girl has possession of the Sandman's sand. She is dying, but it keeps her alive. She runs it through her fingers and she dreams. That's all she does- she just dreams and dreams. Her house is full of loose spirits- dangerous spirits- they came with the sand- but she is oblivious. She just dreams.

As I had that thought, I dozed off. In the next dream the Sandman- just the way Neil Gaiman wrote of him- was seducing me. I gave in and tumbled through space with him. Then I had a dream where I was in a black ballet dress dancing among white tombs, and another where I was pulling glass hearts out of a clear desert stream. All of my dreams are so clear- so vivid. Imagine dreams directed by a gothic Baz Luhrman, and you have an idea. And what's best is that they aren't so evenescant as most people say theirs are- they're clear, and they stay with me, letting me ponder every little bit. What's more, I always dream. I never don't dream. A night without a dream makes me wake up feeling like I haven't slept. You can ask me one day- say on campus, "what did you dream last night, Emma," and I will always have an answer,

Some other facts about my dreams:
They are almost always in color- obscenely vivid color.
Sometimes they are animated or in comic form.
I used to abuse sedatives for the sole purpose of more dreams.
The number one reason I don't watch a lot of movies is that they piss me off- if I wanted to see a movie I would go to sleep, and unlike most movies, I'm guaranteed that my dreams will be funny/clever/cool/scary or whatever so many movies try for but fail to obtain.

The last thing I wrote before this thing. The next thing I wrote after this.