The Meaning of Dreams

I'll admit that when people talk about whether or not dreams have meaning, my first reaction is generally to think of my own dreams and say, "I hope not."  Of course, dreams come from our brains which mean that they do probably mean something in relation to us.  That meaning probably isn't some deep foretelling of destiny, and is far more likely to be our brain muddling together our daily worries, our love of sci-fi, and a bit of protest against that delicious but unhealthy cheese snack we decided to have just before bed.

I have weird dreams, like most of you do.  Even my most boring dreams are strange because they are that boring.  I know I've told people about my recent dream that my Dungeons and Dragons dice went missing and I spent the dream halfheartedly looking while saying that it was an inconvenience and feeling a bit put off.  I'm also fairly sure that I have had a number of parking dreams over the years.

Last night I had a dream that everyone I'd worked with at the REC had become mailcarriers.  They were all convening at the same convenience store in an act of protest, and it somehow all connected with this music festival where I was convinced by a pouting stranger that I had to sing along with a flute.

A fair few of you have died in my dreams- though almost never by my own hand.  Also, you can be thankful that you haven't been in any of my Criminal Minds dreams.  Seriously, pity the faceless victims I conjure up for those.

Another possible meaning I've refused to think over hard about was that period of time when I was almost never in my own dreams and just sort of watched the whole thing happen like some sort of amazingly high budget, college art film.