Dreams, lucid dreams, nightmares and the such

Carphil wrote:What if Ornstein is a female ?

Guess where she plans to put that spear. Nightmare level: infinty

i. told. you. to. stop.

In this thread, we have learned an important lesson. We are all sick and twisted individuals, but Wade turns weird up to 11.

he deserves his username

Quarik wrote:In this thread, we have learned an important lesson. We are all sick and twisted individuals, but Wade turns weird up to 11.

The internet is a wonderful place, filled with terrifying individuals.

I didn't actually know who Deadpool was until I searched Wade Wilson on the net just now. I... don't actually feel lame at all.

Wade- I think my mommy said that people describing strange sexual situations to me are dangerous...

Quarik wrote:I didn't actually know who Deadpool was until I searched Wade Wilson on the net just now. I... don't actually feel lame at all.

Wade- I think my mommy said that people describing strange sexual situations to me are dangerous...

Don't worry son, you can trust me! Do you like candy?

Get in the van.

I'm in a city in an underground bunker. The suns about to explode and me and a couple others are going into space to find a new home. When I see the sky it's a beautiful mixture of red and blue and somehow, almost every star in the sky is an exploding spectacle. I launch into space as I see the ground crumbling around me, with millions screaming for help. I feel so insignificant there like and ant heading into a war zone. When I reach space it's like going through a nebula instead of blackness, and behind me, behind the sun, there's an even bigger explosion. I'm caught up in it and everything turns black, not only the world, but everything imaginable.

Somehow I'm teleported on to an alien ship that's ruins only to find that while the ship maybe in shambles, it's crew most certainly is not. I run through my life through this otherworldly maze and then I fall out of the ship and into a star that looks like a giant balled up rainbow and it turns me into god. I wake up.

I had this dream a month or two back and I swear to god I don't do drugs.

That smough and ornstein nightmare idea is hilarious, pretty horrendous stuff

Do you think I should try and censor my nightmares with flowers and daisies, or just state what happens in them? After posting them I'll wait for the doctor's to come in and tell me about how they think I'm repressing memories of **** as a child haha.

tell us what happens, UNALTERED!!

no worries if you can't though

I told you guys one of my biggest secret, everything that I remember, no one else knows about this, and they would probably call me crazy or that I'm joking thats for sure, everyone except her...

Well a Nightmare I used to have, as well something I used to fear as a child when I was around six or seven years old I think it was, The Suffocation I liked to call it. Basically I would have a dream in which my dresser's bottom drawer would open up. I would be shivering and crying just laying in my bed, my head sticking out from under the sheets watching what looked like a sort of pink fleshy sludge pulse outwards from it. Now, this became a great fear of mine that as I slept this would happen, so every time I had one of these Nightmares I thought I had actually died. This being had a face that consisted of two large openings, a jagged mouth, and two small slits that made up a nose. This would waver as it climbed up onto my bed with phallic limbs that would pin me down as it forced itself onto me. While it was almost a liquid, it was so heavy that I couldn't move or breath as it wrested on my chest. All I would see is the flesh and chunks going back and forth like a wave when finally its face would sing down onto mine, and it would pour into my mouth drowning me in its own body. Its face showing a slight emotion of sorrow as it filled me up until I would see all of the color fade away into blackness. I remember this vividly, because for hours all I would see is this blackness, but I would remember it. Eventually I would wake up and just start crying, both sad and happy at the realization I'm still alive.

So yeah, that's the sort of stuff I dream of. Where's Freud to analyze it?

I had a dream a few nights ago. (I usually don't have dreams). It was about something I spent 2 months learning to keep in the back of my mind, and in it, everything I wanted to happen in relation to the situation happened and I was thoroughly convinced it was all real. Then I woke up, I've been miserable for days now.

Tolvo wrote:Well a Nightmare I used to have, as well something I used to fear as a child when I was around six or seven years old I think it was, The Suffocation I liked to call it. Basically I would have a dream in which my dresser's bottom drawer would open up. I would be shivering and crying just laying in my bed, my head sticking out from under the sheets watching what looked like a sort of pink fleshy sludge pulse outwards from it. Now, this became a great fear of mine that as I slept this would happen, so every time I had one of these Nightmares I thought I had actually died. This being had a face that consisted of two large openings, a jagged mouth, and two small slits that made up a nose. This would waver as it climbed up onto my bed with phallic limbs that would pin me down as it forced itself onto me. While it was almost a liquid, it was so heavy that I couldn't move or breath as it wrested on my chest. All I would see is the flesh and chunks going back and forth like a wave when finally its face would sing down onto mine, and it would pour into my mouth drowning me in its own body. Its face showing a slight emotion of sorrow as it filled me up until I would see all of the color fade away into blackness. I remember this vividly, because for hours all I would see is this blackness, but I would remember it. Eventually I would wake up and just start crying, both sad and happy at the realization I'm still alive.

So yeah, that's the sort of stuff I dream of. Where's Freud to analyze it?

Did you get raped as a kid? Cause that sounds like a repressed memory coming to life in your dreams.

If it is a repressed memory it's pretty deeply hidden, that's what people usually say when they hear about my dreams, but this is just kind of how my imagination has always been. I think this is just sort of how I think. Though for the Record, I did have a head injury just before these sorts of dreams happened and my personality did a 180, so if anything I think that has something to do with it.

Yeah it's quite possible a head injury could've done this. Just very weird that something like that could come out of it though.

To be fair this same head injury caused me to become OCD out of the blue, it also changed most of my personality and spawned a ton of my phobias the week it happened. I probably should have gone to a hospital for it really haha. Should I see if any of my other dreams shed light?

You should prbably see a doctor now lol. But sharing a few more might help.

You could, but at this point I would see a brain doctor to see what happened. It sounds like your brain was damaged.

Maybe some day, but I have other priorities.

Another one which I frequently had was the dream that has effected me probably the most.

Basically in this dream I find myself in a forest of thorns and barbs, is the best way I could describe it. There aren't actual trees, but rather growths of thin thorns that expand and twist outwards with flayed and torn apart bodies impaled across them. The ground of the area is stitched together and resembles a massive rotten corpse, it slightly shurns and bleeds every moment from sores near where the barbs grow from. I find myself holding my chest on the ground and I look up to see a body hanging from a tree, via impalement through its chest. I can see what looks like a beating olive orb in its chest, but it doesn't resemble a heart, rather a perfect sphere with black veins that hold it in place and pump. It hs no eyes, and has a wide mouth with jagged teeth. As I get closer it looks at me as if it could, its limbs limp and head resting on its shoulder as if its neck is completely broken. It speaks in a gravely voice and says to me, "Journeys End, Losers Die." It then melts into ash on the floor. I close my eyes and open them to find myself on fire, my flesh peeling away as I begin to resemble it. My bones turn to wood and twist flaying apart my limbs as my clothes burn away leaving lump sore flesh. My eyes boil and pop and my brow melts, the flesh from it sealing over my eye sockets and combining with my nose. I then rest there looking down on a black figure grovelling before me, and then I wake up.

... That seems a bit much for even a head injury.

Yeah, my thoughts to. When did you have this injury Tolvo?

I'm pretty sure it was when I was, 7 I think? I was on a tire swing with my little sister when the large steel pivot that held it up detached from the wooden post and landed on my head. I remember it pretty well, the police came later and questioned us very aggressively, because they thought we had broken it. My grandmother had to scream at them to leave because they kept trying to press us for information. We probably should have filed a lawsuit really, the whole thing screamed lawsuit really I don't know why we didn't.

For breaking a tire swing? Thats seems too much. Also isnt that when your depression started?