Thursday March 25th 2010, 10:04 am
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I really do hate scifi. Anything scifi, it seems. I feel like I’m alone in the world not having an inkling of interest in seeing Avatar or anything related to it. It turns me off and I can’t even engage it long enough to have any sort of effect on me. However, I really love gothic texts.

I loved reading Jane Eyre the second time around. Aside from having fond childhood associations with the film, and reading the book in high school, this time I got a plethora more out of the text. The dream sequence-like sections were very in-your-face. The red room scene was actually a little scary. As I was reading it, I really felt as though Jane was the apparition she saw in the mirror.

If one would associate nerves and trauma to nightmare-like experiences, then this text is a great source to reference. From her evil aunt to the shady schoolmaster, there isn’t much pleasantry in poor Jane’s life.  And this seems to have a profound effect on Jane’s nerves, and therefore her dream– be it day dreams, nightmares, etc.

There are many times throughout the novel where there isn’t a clear understanding of whether Jane is awake or dreaming. Bronte is amazing.

Smoking Pot in Greece.
Wednesday March 24th 2010, 11:02 am
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I had an insane dream last night. I was on a study abroad program in Greece and recently arrived home. I got a memo from a mysterious letter that my boyfriend was being called back to Greece because one of the teachers in our department was setting him up with the Greek police on a HUGE FELONY of smoking weed. Suddenly, I was at the airport crying as he, in shock, and completely silently boarded the airplane to leave. I was then transported into my home, only it seemed creepy. I was alone, yet I wasn’t supposed to be– my older brother was supposed to be there. I kept sneaking looks out my blinds into the backyard to see if he cam back yet, as if to save me. Now that I am writing it out, it totally does not capture the fear I had for my boyfriend’s life and my own once I was home alone.

Before I went to bed last night, I was talking to my boyfriend and a close friend about if we thought pot should be legalized. Also, last summer, my department went on a study abroad trip to Greece, although I did not attend. Recently, I have also become anxious and paranoid when coming to my house alone late at night. This dream was a condensation of all of those things, it seems. I still feel strange about it.

bagel and bowl.
Wednesday March 17th 2010, 11:11 pm
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Last night my parents caught me smoking. Cigarettes. It was quite the nightmare. The way I responded to being caught was to laugh at them. I was outside. Sky was blue. Clouds were white. Grass was green. I was outside. No smell. Smell of cigarettes. I can’t remember if I’ve ever smelled in a dream. My favorite is when I’m dreaming and then m alarm goes off and I’m asking myself, “What’s that stupid noise? Maybe it’s a fire. I’ll go look for it!” I guess it depends if you speak the King’s English or Modern English. I dreamed that I cleaned my room and I woke up and my room was a mess. In my dream, it looked exactily the way it did in real life. And I very meticulously cleaned it. (WISH FULFILLMENT!) My dreams are normally pretty terrible. I dream really boring things. I’d so much prefer a dream about zombies attacking and killing everything than to have that dream again.

One time my mother was talking to me while I was sleeping. She asked, “Where’s the car?!” I said, “Outside.”

My mother was trying to wake me up to go to school. I was, I basically understood that it was time to get up but at the same time I was still fully invested in what my brain was dreaming. I said baby let the good times roll. In the dream, I was far away and I had to swoop down into my destination. I was awake enough to speak and when my mother said, for the 4th time, “it’s time to get up”, I told her, “Ill be right there”. (Like, I’m coming). It had something to do with a vest or a jacket I was wearing. It allowed me to swoop in.

(these are two dreams recounted by friends)

Hartman vs. Hobson
Thursday March 11th 2010, 3:04 pm
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I really loved reading Hartman’s book. I really feel like his theory holds the strongest arguement. I think it is absolutely fascinating that your brain can take in about 80 billion images and events a day and then somehow turn them into metaphorical dream images and situations in your mind as you sleep. It seems to make the most sense. Hobson, on the other hand was almost impossible to get through. It was reminiscent of sitting in Bio Lab yet again. I do, however, appreciate the actual science of the mind, the brain, the neurological processes, etc. I wish we would combine all the best pieces of all the theorists we have read thus far and create a dream theory conglomerate.

The attack of the Smurfs
Wednesday March 10th 2010, 10:38 pm
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I was running up a flight of stairs because I was being chased. It was an old, haggard woman. She had sunken in cheeks and a deep cackle. Her eyes were those of emeralds, but not beautiful– mortifying. She wanted to catch me, and she did. She tackled me to the ground and began to tickle me. It was my worst fear in that moment. It hurt. Itried to break free but I couldnt. She tickled me so much that I began to suffocate. No more breathing for me. All because of this halfDisneyevilQueen-halfghoulisholdmonsterwoman. There was darkness and there was opression and there was no control. It was the scariest thing ever.

iko iko
Sunday March 07th 2010, 5:11 pm
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I had an insane dream last night.

I was in this mandatory stunt contest. The biggest thing I remember is that I was in a huge inground swimming pool that wasn’t filled with water, but something that was supposed to be blood, but resembled kool aid more closely. There were two other girls being forced into this competition. They had to do things like stay under water for five minutes at a time even though they were drowning. They didn’t actually drown, but it was a form of torture. The contest directors were laughing loudly and obnoxiously and wearing ugly glitzy costumes. Next, they made us go under water while they let out tear gas. They said it was up to us how long we wanted to hold our breath for. It was yellow smoke and they were wearing gas masks along with their ugly glittery costumes. Next, I had to open up a package of worms (think buying chicken breast in the supermarket). I had to open up the plastic wrap without using my hands. The worms were all shapes and sizes and I had to eat them one by one. Next thing I knew, it was all over, but my mother was there and she was taking the extra worms home with her (so as to cook them for dinner as if it were chicken?)

I cannot, for the life of me, think of ANY correlation to my waking life and this dream content. The only person I recognized was my mother, who was my mother in the dream, and this girl Sophia who I recently worked with and she was also herself in the dream. Everyone and eveything else is a mystery.

And although it seems very funny in rerospect, this dream was like the end of the world as it was happening.

Sunday February 28th 2010, 12:53 am
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It is an interesting argument: Freud vs. Jung. I think I heard from class that most people preferred reading Jung to Freud but I have to disagree. I found Jung to be attempting too hard to be accepting of everyone’s preconceived notions of Freudian concepts. He so badly wanted to put down Freud to make himself seem more enlightened. Jung got too far into the opposite end of the spectrum of Frued.

I really loved our discussion of the spectrum of objectivity and subjectivity. I do believe that an individual can never truly be objective whereas you can be wholly subjective.

It is difficult to detach myself from the Jung’s belief in alchemly and still take his dream analysis seriously.

Sunday February 28th 2010, 12:39 am
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I find Freud’s concept of Wish Fulfillment highly problematic. Although I agree that sometimes our subconscious recycles  things that we wish would have happened, or imagine and create more suitable circumstances through our dreams, yet it is impossible to state something to be pure fact like that. It cancels out any theory of an exteral object or condition having anything to do with our dreams. If we are falling in a dream because a blanket is falling off of our bed, how on Earth is that logically linked to a repressed desire to have the blanket get off of our bed? Most of Freud’s theories, I find myself on the cusp of agreeance with, yet it is his absolutism that causes me to steer away from being on his side. I think there is absolute validitity to many of the things Freud theorizes, yet it is simply impossible to make no exception and to insist that every case maintain the achievement of any given goal of his.

the dreamer examines his pillow
Sunday February 28th 2010, 12:17 am
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i had a dream last night that I was in a smoky cave. i noticed that all the cave walls were blood red. My boyfriends ex girlfriends was there. She was staring at me and laughing. Then my grandma started crying and i saw her lips mouthing the words “i love you”. I heard my  mother saying that she had never hear my grandma say that to her before and I started crying. My boyfriend was mad at me for accusing him of cheating. I felt so guilty and angry and like I wanted to scream my lungs out. Suddenly I was running extremely fast through Ireland trying to get to a show. I ran into a guy named Brian (I have no idea who this person is). He came up into this tiny room where a show was happening that I had produced. It was completely unorganized and embarrassing. My boyfriend was sitting there in the audience at the end and Brian sat in between him and me. It was terrible. I felt like I did something terrible even though nothing at all had happened.

Then I woke up. I think it is important to note that nothing crazy or out of the ordinary has happened between my boyfriend and me recently and I haven’t seen his ex for over two and a half years. My Grandma, though, is in the hospital and her 90th birthday is approaching. Yikes.

This dream deeply disturbed me.

Reading Kafka
Wednesday February 24th 2010, 7:24 pm
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I found it extremely enthralling to read Kafka’s short stories. I haven’t had much experience reading Kafka’s work, but I especially loved “The Country Doctor”. The repetative imagery of the horses was especially interesting. i found myself asking, why? Why the horse? A horse represents a lot. It is a huge, beautiful animal. It is also capable of trampling, transporting, invading, escaping. Its presence will never go unnoticed. Kafka’s use of seemingly every day items, people and places are somehow inexplicable– or at least, I felt they were somehow coming in and out of focus as I read. Something about the whole journey of the story was nonlinear, even though it seemed to be quite simple.

There is a palpable tension between what the character does and says, how he reveals himself and the guilt he actually feels. This tension is what kept me so entralled as I read. I think it directly related to the dream theory we have studied. It is interesting and confusing at the same time. I feel the more Istudy dream theory and attempt to understand it, the more questions I have and the more I seek clear, direct answers about what exactl is going on. Knowing that it is almost impossible to ever truly know is perhaps the most enticing part.