Why are my Dreams so Vivid?

For the record, I don’t really have nightmares often, but my dreams still stack up with the weirdest out there. I’ve been shanked, in a matrix slow motion fight scene with Ppeogigayo and another acquaintance (fighting against secret government agents trying to kill my brother-turned-monster), stuck in a silent scene staring at another person in the dark for a long period of time with varying emotions (twice, with two different people), a member of a world touring break crew, taken on a whirlwind tour through multiple countries, and subjected to taking a passed out drunk man, though a very suavely handsome one, to my apartment, dream-apartment that is, because the bar owner was sick of doing it and we had no idea where he lived.

I won’t go on about any more, except for the one this post centers on, but you have to admit… that’s a pretty awkward set of dreams, taking note that many of them, even “drunk man,” include celebrity figures I will not mention.

Here is last night’s dream:
Location: Waterbury, CT [Where I was born, not where I live]
Players: Myself, Ppeogigayo, friend named David, friend named Alex, a young man by the name of “Classy Shirt Kid” (CSK), one by the name of Kevin, and random children (makes sense later).

So let’s start!

I’m sitting in the apartment kitchen with my parents and grandmother eating breakfast – not so exciting. My grandmother decides to make some snide comments and, being so short tempered, I say a few… words, then leave the apartment, taking to the streets around a park [I have no idea if this park really exists or not; sorry CT residents.].

I notice a child running in a yellow dress who looks like the 1st grade version of Ppeogigayo (it is). By the time I reach the girl I have also reverted back into a six year old. We wander off into the woods to find a clearing with a bunch of other kids, some we know, some we don’t.

We greet David, Alex and CSK, all of whom we can still somehow identify, and ask for more information on our situation. They have none. We ask other random children in our awkward lispy voices. They don’t know either.

Suddenly Kevin comes running out, spared of this reverse aging process, and all the children stop babbling. He stands on a tree trunk (this dream is SO creative) and starts yelling for myself and Ppeogigayo by name. Squishing our way forward, we attempt to make him acknowledge that we still retain some of our true age intellect through the childlike simplicity.

When he just stares at us, I try to pull his pant leg for attention, but he kneels on the ground and starts crying. I don’t really think this is a “he made it rain” kind of moment, though it would be boss if Kevin could control the weather, but it starts pouring and a branch falls off one of the trees.

*Random blackout dream lapse*

I wake to find myself, at current age, sitting next to a sleeping Kevin under the tree where the branch fell. His feet are propped on the tree stump. A dream within a dream? Not so much. He’s still wearing the same clothes, and we’re both soaked and covered in dirt. There’s a basketball field a ways off and the three boys are having a game with some others, also their real ages. Ppeogigayo disappeared somewhere – I think she’s climbing a tree to be honest, but there’s a yellow ribbon a few yards from my bare feet.

Kevin stirs a little, then yawns with arms stretched towards the boughs and a scrunched face. He reaches for his toes before noticing me.

“Bwah! You’re normal!” He exclaims and hugs me.

“Excuse me?” I choke out while he crushes me. “Why are we so dirty?”

“Was I dreaming?” his nose crinkles as he crosses his arms.

“Did you think I was six years old?”

He squints at me and nods.

–—–—–—

That was basically my dream. I shortened it a bit and took a few parts out, trying for brevity, but I hope you found it as entertaining as I did when I woke up. I only wish I could have better explained the physical vibrancies that characterized this dream, but that would have required much too much figurative language and I’d rather not delve into that kind of writing today.