I can’t call these dreams memorable, but they are recent. I write them down in a sleepy stupor immediately upon waking up and then forget ever having them. I recognize it when I read it back but rarely recall them throughout the day without checking my dream journal.
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May 23, 2025

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šŸ‘—
Last night, I dreamed—though I can’t tell you what of, not exactly. There were fragments. A lawn, half-mown, or cats—dozens of them, maybe. Their shapes flicker now at the edge of memory, insubstantial. That’s how it always goes. I dream every night, I know this, but each one slips through my fingers by morning, evaporating like steam before I can grasp it. It wasn’t always this way. As a child, I kept a dream journal. Religious about it. Woke up, wrote it down. And something about that changed me. Sharpened the recall, made dreams more solid. Realer. And then, over time, something turned. Now they vanish even faster. Like the act of remembering too hard wore out the muscle. I’ve thought about starting again. Journaling. Documenting. Not just the dreams, but the moments around them—the texture of waking, the taste of forgetting. Because vivid dreams begin with remembering, don’t they? But I hate recollection. The way it drags old feelings back up, stale and bitter. The way it stains the present with shadows of things that never happened. There’s something foul in remembering too much. Still. Maybe I’ll try.
šŸ•³
Sue me, I love David Lynch. He loves dreams. He said, ā€œThe nervous system functions in a fourth, unique way, as different as dreaming is from sleeping as sleeping is from waking. When you transcend, it's the only experience that lights the full brain on an EEG machine. It's the only experience that utilizes the full brain.ā€ Anytime I have a dream that stays with me when I wake up, I grab my phone and write it down in my notes. Here’s a snippet from a recent one, ā€œI had to put on a gown in the tiniest bathroom. A famous actress grabs my hand and we run to a huge empty room with carpet everywhere. Rolling around on the floor laughing and then she’s crying to me telling me really sad things that are going on in her life. I really wanted to take a picture of the tears on her face but felt like i couldn’t.
Apr 21, 2023
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i don’t dream that often and it’s ever less common that i remember what i dreamt about, so its a pretty big deal for me when both things happen, so i like to write down the dreams i do remember (dont ask me what happened w the really long one, i don’t even know)
May 17, 2024

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