Had a dream about tumblr people. It was cute, awkward, featured a lengthy discussion about the awesomeness of Lu Edmonds. You who were in it can rest assured that it was not dirty at all. (Damnit. Shouldn’t dreams be different from reality?!)

It telling that all my nightmares lately has been of music. The last one, I’m a bit ashamed of it really, as it is quite stupid. Not the thing that normally gets passed around as nightmare

Many of my friends went to see the Mekons live without telling me, I missed that they should play and then I found out that they even played at my favourite venue on a date I was out of the country. In Hungary. It makes no sense. Hungary? Why?

Sure, I like the language even if I understand nothing, and there are a few talented photographers from there — the whole Eastern block actually has lots of photographers who’s style makes me tick. But back to the dream.

I was devastated. Why didn’t anyone tell me this? Of course everyone thought the Mekons’ were excellent and I started to cry. Do I have to spell out that the pillow was a bit wet? Hello mental stability, you’re welcome to drop in anytime…

A rarity indeed, but I had a nightmare last night. It’s a bit telling about my fragile eggshell mind that this is the thing that registers as a nightmare and not the blood and gore and apocalyptic duststorms that make frequent appearances otherwise.

But I dreamt that I was in an old cinema. Sort of like a amusement park too with the ticket booths and eerie smiles. Long lines and the chairs later were uncomfortable. And then there, on the stage, they projected a live show with the Joy Formidable. And they were pretty bad. The Joy Formidable! Insane, I know. They can’t be bad live. Impossible. But the fear was overwhelming I guess. In the dream I cried and got bullied by my friends who I had dragged along.

I’d take dying any day over this.

When it’s time to hire people, I will not get a secretary. Perhaps an assistant, but that’s the second hire. No, the first job will be a fact checker. Someone who easily can find out if I’ve said something in real life or in a dream. Earlier today I had to open up Miranda and look through the IM history. And yeah, I had actually written about LEGO Universe there and it wasn’t my imagination. I really hope they don’t blend over any worse than this — that would not be good.

My dreams have been normal. Not normal as in “as they’ve always been” but really true to life. It’s frightening. I’ve dreamt conversations that I later assumed happened in real life. That has been… awkward. Especially since this is those that I remember now, and frequently there are friends present in these dreams. Awkward, awkward, awkward.

Tonight I dreamt that I bought a few the Mekons albums on vinyl. Exciting stuff really, not in the least because I wanted to listen to them today. (Oh fuck how I wish I had more the Mekons vinyls.)

Not sure what it says about me that I’m more nervous and ill at ease about these sort of dreams than the “normal” blood-gore-slime-and-creepy-crawlers I’ve had for years before.