remember a dream in detail and write about it

I keep a dream journal. Once you start writing down your dreams, it will get easier to remember them in more detail.

“I was looking down on a room. It was a living room. I didn’t notice any details, but it seemed to be very gray and anonymous. Like everything was swept in some kind of thick mist, which made the objects seem colorless and distant.
“Dad? Dad?”
A child’s voice. I turned my head in the direction the voice came from. Looking down on my right I saw a sofa. My stomach twitched at the sight that unfurled as my brain took it in. A man was dispersed on the sofa, a little child sitting at his side. The man was looking unnaturally stiff and uncomfortable. He was clearly dead. His eyes were screwed up big, like he’d died very frightened. Not ready to die at all. His mouth was only a straight line; dry lips, surrounded by sallow, lifeless skin you don’t want to touch anymore. His right arm was hanging down slightly touching the floor. The child, a boy, was shaking him, still calling “Dad”, with a panicked voice. It filled me with grief. The boy didn’t cry or show any sign of wanting to cry, he seemed mad. The shaking continued, steadily getting more vehement. I wanted to shout at him “Don’t! Can’t you see? He is dead. Let him be” but the boy got more and more desperate in his movements, and with a heavy thud he pushed his lifeless dad onto the floor. The man collapsed like a puppet. His eyes were now looking straight into the sofa. Running, the boy disappeared into another room. Without wanting to, I followed, still feeling as if I looked down from a hole in the ceiling. Another gray, unclear room. My eyes caught a woman sitting on a spindle back chair, her neck was resting on her chest which moved slowly. Alive! I turned my gaze over to the boy, running towards the woman. And then, without the slightest hesitation, he lay his little hands around her neck and started pushing. He locked his hands with so much might his arms were shaking rather violently. The victim didn’t do anything to defend herself, though I could see her arms raising a bit as to embrace her boy, but they never got that far. They fell powerless down to her side again. The boy continued to strangle her. I’m sure she was dead long before he was finished off. Then, looking down at the floor (his face had been lowered all the time), he turned around and walked into a third room, his pace was slowly this time. Once again I couldn’t control my body, well actually I couldn’t feel it at all, I was only eyes which lacked eyelids. I seemed to be tied to the boy, and I followed after him. Somehow he was back in the living room again. But his father was not lying on the floor. Another difference that struck me was that the room seemed twice as large, and even more gray and cold than I could remember. It gave me the chills. It was like the father had left a thick trace of death in the air. I wanted myself out now. I could feel the panic creeping. Something was very wrong. It was the boy…”

I can’t describe how the boy looked, it was too horrifying. Lucky for me I woke up at this point.

I did have an amazing dream about a week ago. It was a whole book. It was a film. I can still remember what happened, I can even remember the atmosphere. If you’ve seen Pan’s Labyrinth you know what I mean! Of course I woke up and missed the end. Well there was an end, but more like “to be continued…” I think I’m meant to write down this dream. And finish it. I can feel it! It’s a magical world.

I would write the dream I had and what it means here, but it’s looooong. Let’s just say I knew what was going to happen in my life for the following year and a half because of this dream. The big things at least.

i have a dream journal next to my bed… i usually only remember fragments and jot them down where they remain like puzzle pieces…occasionally i’ll have a vivid one that’s stamped into memory & can be easily transcibed… when in a pensive mood, they’re great to go back to and recount…