One of the people in my dream last night was speaking Spanish and used the word "disposa" to mean "restroom." ("Donde esta la disposa" or perhaps, incorrectly, "Donde esta el disposa"). However, I just looked up "disposa" in Wiktionary and it isn't even a Spanish word, let alone one that means "restroom." Mi español es muy malo, and apparently even worse in my dreams. #Linguistics#Dreams#Spanish#Language@languagelovers
I've always felt my spirit animal was a #tortoise for several years. I've owned 2 of them, and they both met untimely ends. However, that hasn't changed the way I feel about myself. So, I wrote about why I feel that way, and perhaps, in my mind, I've already lived as one! Here is my latest article on @medium. Enjoy it for #free!
When I dream, I often feel like I'm borrowing someone else's life for a little while. My age, race, and gender are often different from my waking life. I occasionally feel like I'm visiting a "what if" version of Earth, an alternate. Sometimes, I even find portals between possibilities.
These stories are all based on dreams I've had.
I'll add more as time goes on.
Sometimes, in my dreams, an endless stream of things will come out of my mouth. Glass, metal, living things, goo. Sometimes, things come out of other places.
Sometimes, when I dream, there are magic spells, and elemental manipulation, and communicating with anything, animals, insects, the earth itself.
Sometimes, I'm in danger.
Sometimes, when I dream, I walk through walls, I peer into directions that I have no names for, I breakthrough to some greater understanding of the universe.
Sometimes, it starts small. It starts with self-preservation, with fear.
But that's not how it ends.
#WhenIDream
I have #NightTerrors or #SleepParalysis occasionally. I've managed to work through it by twisting the feeling into something interesting or positive. It's not always easy to just "let it happen" and see where it goes.
Anyway, this time, I "woke up" and felt something on my face. It went sideways from there into body horror, science fiction, even a bit of comedy.
I asked "why would the spiders be doing this?" and my subconscious definitely came up with something interesting.
I can't move my head.
I see my wife beside me in bed.
Reading.
"Please help me," I say.
She ignores me.
I see the black sticks again.
Legs.
They are legs.
Weaving.
Spider legs.