%title [no subject]
%date 2005-09-23 17:22:53
:diary:livejournal:fossils:

So I've got this recurring dream of dying or literally freezing up while on stage, but last night was different in a rather intense way.  It was some large choir concert during which I had a solo.  About half way through, I started to go numb and the kid next to me was giving me strange looks.  When I felt my throat start to close up (this happens in every one of these dreams - last time it was an allergic reaction), he reached out and poked me in the sides in quick succession.  I fell over on stage and couldn't move, feeling like I was slowly blacking out as everyone started surrounding me.  I remember a brief moment in the hospital, but after that I just remember waking up in a bed that I knew was at my mom's house.  Somehow, I also knew that I had had some, like, terrible kidney explosion or something, but everything looked and felt normal about me now.  When I got up, however, there were pictures in the kitchen, some held to the fridge with magnets, mostly all of them of me with no hair and an oxygen tank generally looking like I was just recovering from brain surgery or something crazy.  Since it appeared that Shannon was living there at the time, I went into her room to ask her what day it was.  She said something like, "Your birthday, duh!"  To which I asked in frustration, "No, what DAY is it?"  This got me an answer about a week after what I was expecting, like a whole week had been erased from my memory.  I'm starting to lose the rest of the dream, now, but it was.. weird.  I was going around campus (which was suddenly CU, and not CSU) asking a bunch of really weird characters if they knew what had happened during that week.  I teamed up with some people whom I can't quite remember anymore and we went searching, mostly around the Sheridan bus station at US36 and some fast food joint where I complained about the bowls beign stupid (they were like shells!  They looked like they could hold so much more, but since the sides dipped, they'd only fill up halfway before the soup would reach one of the rims) and talked a bunch with the waitresses.  I could tell when I was going to wake up, and the dream-me panicked at this.

I'm not quite sure what all this means, but I do know that it was more vivid than any dream I've ever had - these recurring ones being more vivid than most, anyway.  There were a lot of real places that I was at (Old Main theatre on CU's campus, the house was a mix of two real buildings: my mom's house and my house, and the bus station), and the emotions that I went through were quite intense.  It started out as a sort of worried curiousity that jokingly included some conspiracy theories, but as the dream went on with me trying to find out what happened to the missing week, it got worse and worse, getting closer to panic and concern about what had happened to me, why I didn't remember, and who could help me.  Although the plot was nightmare-ish, I was extremely disappointed to be waking up: it was like enjoying such a good book that you become one of the characters.  Maybe I'll write it into a short story, even if it does seem a little cliche.