Well, some of them do, anyway. Most dreams are terrific. But when they hijack your emotions and distort your perception of reality? That is just not on. When I woke up this morning, I was in love with a fictional character. In my sleep last night, I went to a fancy city sort-of place, along with several of my (fictional) friends. One of them was my boyfriend. He had dark hair, and looked a little like a cross between Harry Lloyd and someone with a shorter neck. His name was Jordan, and we were very much in love. The city we were in was rather small, probably more of a village, but bustling, and it had sort of a Qarthish vibe to it. But it was big enough to contain a zoo. At some point during our visit to the zoo, Jordan managed to break both of his ankles. Somehow he was still standing, so it took a while for me to convince him to go to the hospital – which was also inside this supposedly tiny city. As he was gone, the rest of the girls and I went to this row of nightclubs. Okay, everywhere we go in this dream is inside the city, so just take my word for it that this supposedly small city is actually rather big. One of the nightclubs in the lane was the .Katy Perry nightclub. Whoever names venues in this city appears to be lacking imagination-wise. But anyway, while the Katy Perry nightclub was a nightclub in name, it most definitely wasn’t an actual nightclub. It was more like a giant bathroom. There were two storeys to it. The first floor contained a bath, and the second floor contained a shower. But the Katy Perry nightclub wasn’t an ordinary bathroom, oh no. The taps in its bath and shower did not dispense water, but rather, they dispensed milk. Or more specifically, they dispensed milk that smelled like liquid milko chews. The Katy Perry nightclub was really quite delicious. After we had gone there, we continued along the lane to the other nightclubs. As we had our fun, we kept an eye out for Jordan, who was taking an abnormally long time. Finally, after a mix-up with someone’s ID, we decided to take a break. I’ll take this time to explain the layout of the places we went to in the city. The nightclub lane was in the West, with the Katy Perry nightclub towards the outside of the city. In the North-East was the zoo, with the hospital directly to its West. Just South of the zoo and the hospital, directly in front of their entrances, was a large grassy circle area, with benches facing in around it. As we had our break and waited for Jordan, we sat on one of the Southernmost benches, facing the hospital. Finally, after a few minutes of sitting and talking, I spotted Jordan hobbling towards us with red and purple casts on his legs. I waved and shouted out to him, and then noticed my old boyfriend from high school a few metres in front of him, who had thought I was waving to him. We awkwardly caught each others’ gaze and looked away, before Jordan finally reached us at the bench.
This happens to me surprisingly often. I already posted about the time I woke up feeling like I had too many kidneys. And the time I had a crush on a fellow uni student for several weeks following a dream. I haven’t posted about the time it happened while I was dating that old high school boyfriend. I had dreamt that I was in the shed room they passed off as a classroom – the one next to the Omega toilets, on the side that the sports shed was not – with a very attractive young man. He had curly dark hair, and having recently watched Misfits, I could compare him to a smaller-eyebrowed version of Nathan. But anyway, I was fooling around with (let’s just call him Nathan for convenience’s sake) Nathan in the shed room, and one thing led to another, and we ended up having sex. And I bloody well loved it. Which is really quite hilarious. But anyway. When I woke up, I felt like I had cheated on my boyfriend. Like, I actually liked this fictional Nathan guy. And I had gone further with him than I had with my boyfriend. I felt bad about it for a few weeks after that. It was all very strange. And now it’s all very strange again. Because I have once again fallen for a fictional character that my dream-self made up. Thanks, brain. Thanks a lot.