Strange dreams

[vaneramos]

From the old Stone Road bridge across the Eramosa River, this afternoon


This week I resumed conscious effort to recall my dreams. The results have been shadowy and inscrutable. Long, tortuous journeys that recur as meaningless, nonlinear episodes. My point of view shifts among characters. Sometimes I become landscape, or narrator.

This morning it was about a family of vampires, mostly children. One boy prevented the others from preying on his sister. From his perspective I feared we would be regarded as paedophiles. Sometimes I was head vampire, or the girl.

I had my first waking dream. Danny stood in the doorway of a strange bedroom telling me to get ready for an appointment. I yelled and flailed my arms to demonstrate I was awake. Then I really woke up, alone at home. I fumbled groggily for my notebook to record the vampire dream before it evaporated.

None was stranger than Friday morning. Occasionally in dreams I've been female, but never before had vaginal sex. I was a 19th Century settler's widow, who took up with the farm's overseer. When he penetrated and pressed against my clitoris, I nearly climaxed, but woke to find my cockhead rubbing the sheets. If I had come, it would have been my third wet dream ever.

~~~~~~~~~~

Another photo is posted in iamthelorax.
Another photo is posted in texture.

Comments

[tim-e-bear.livejournal.com]

My boyfriend, interestingly, tells me that the only dreams he's ever had about sex, he was female. That's why, during the week in which he was clearly troubled about something (the week that ended with him saying he loved me), and he was reading books by Pat Califia and Butler about gender, I assumed it was gender dysphoria on his mind (to which I thought: are not Vaginal Davis and RuPaul quite ENOUGH for 6'7" trannies!?).

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

I am absolutely content being male, so I have no idea why these dreams occur. Still, they are some of my most interesting. In my favourite dream EVER I was Siguerney Weaver as laser-toting Dian Fossey in the 23rd Century. I hijacked a cargo ship carrying wildlife illegally to a zoo in Alpha Centauri, set the crew adrift without fuel, and returned the animals to post-nuclear earth. I call it Guerrillas in Deep Space. A baby bird hatched and I had to feed it with an eye dropper.

[tim-e-bear.livejournal.com]

Oddly, I've had maybe one dream in which I appeared AT ALL. In most of my dreams, I'm the camera. I'm aware I'm there, but I don't see me, and, in most, I'm just an observer. On the other hand, my dreams have colour in them - I can remember colours distinctly from them.

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

Sometimes I'm the camera or the narrator. I rarely appear in my dreams, but I am frequently someone else.

[tim-e-bear.livejournal.com]

(oddly enough, in one dream, I was, um, performing an act on a straight friend of mine (pointless digression: I remember telling him at one point, after telling him I had this dream about him (he was not offended), that,if I ever met a tall, stocky gent into reading and old music and Tom Lehrer and Flanders and Swann, etc., I could fall hard in love - I must watch tempting God's sense of humour, because, well, that would be ARNE - though Arne doesn't have the long flowing beard Ian did...), and, though I could see me, me was blocking me from seeing what I was doing - might have been helpful to have learned then how to perform certain acts, since the dream me seemed to know how but wasn't allowing the real me to see... ;) ).

[eloquentwthrage.livejournal.com]

I've only head two wet dreams in my life as well. I feel cheated, though. I want more!

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

Yeah, I do too. I practically never have explicit sex dreams. Sometimes I am absolutely horny, running around wanting some coy sex magnet who keeps slipping out of my grasp. So it was really wild having this cowboy just take hold of me unexpectedly and put it in, wham. In my dreams, at least, I guess I'm more satisfied as a woman.

[bitterlawngnome.livejournal.com]

gender is such an ephemeral thing

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

It's strange: although I'm completely comfortable being male, these female dreams are some of the most interesting. I've been Siguerney Weaver. I've been the blonde in a slinky read dress in a black-and-white detective thriller in which the only other coloured element was the neon sign in a diner window.

On another note, I have an FTM friend in Guelph, and I'm startled at what a hot young man he has become.

[tim-e-bear.livejournal.com]

On the FTM tip - there was a young gentleman named Trevor, who, at one point, was assigned the name Tricia (from birth 'til about 25 odd years later). I hadn't seen Trevor in a while, as he had moved to the STates, though I was aware he was transitioning to more fully become Trevor. I saw this stocky bearded gent at a dance, actually woofed, and he turned around. Oh, hello, Trevor...though Trevor identifies as a straight man, he still was flattered.

[dakoopst.livejournal.com]

That pic is absolutely *gorgeous.*

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

Thanks, Stephen. It was nice to see moving water the other day. It ties into the poem I posted yesterday. It's like the blood starting to flow in my veins again.