As a possible side-effect of the insomnia I've been suffering for the past two decades, I don't dream like "normal" people do. To my knowledge, I never have. Whenever somebody tells me that they had this great dream where they ate chocolate pudding at the Eiffel Tower and then ended up having a sex orgy with a half-dozen movie stars (plus Angeline Jolie) at the Louvre, I just nod my head appreciatively as if I know what they are talking about.
But I don't.
My dreams are very different. For one thing, I always know that I am dreaming because I am never actually in the dream. Instead, I am merely an observer... kind of like watching a movie. For example, if I am having a dream where a naked Elizabeth Hurley is laying in bed reading Batman comics to me as I'm being given a full-body massage by Princess Jasmine from Disney's Aladdin while floating in a cloud castle... it's not really me. It's just somebody who looks like me. In the dream, I'm the one floating outside the window watching it all.
Yeah, dreaming pretty much suck ass for me. The bastard...
So when somebody sends me a meme that's asking about my dreams, I cannot help but be a little depressed.
Because it's not like I can whip out some great dream about the time I went skydiving with Halle Berry and ended up landing in a giant ice cream sundae where we made sweet love on a bed of chocolate fudge brownies while SpongeBob Squarepants dances around blowing bubbles out of the whip cream. That would be cool, but it just doesn't work that way.
Oh well. My feeble attempt at the "Dream Meme" is in an extended entry...
And now I'm off to watch the "Special Features" on my Casino Royale DVD. What a great flick. For James Bond fans, it's a dream come true.