My dreams aren’t particularly memorable. At least, that’s what I assume; I don’t remember them when I wake. Adulthood has made them boring.
I know I dream despite drawing memory blanks because I haven’t gone insane, an unfortunate side-effect of an inability to reach REM sleep. [i]
I no longer have the nightmare problems I had as a child. When I was eight, and then again at eleven, I went through weeks of recurring nightmares and night terrors. I suppose it’s no coincidence that I was sexually molested at those ages.
Sometimes, I remember fragments of dreams, snippets or whispers that pop into my conscious recollection when I’m awake and going about my business. The turn of a head or the smell of something cooking, and suddenly, there’s a little bit of remembered dream drifting around inside my head.
At least they drift away again once they’ve seen the light. It would be awful if the memories were like the interminable earworms that plague my existence. [ii] Besides, I know the secret to elimination. It’s not repeated playings of Karma Chameleon by The Culture Club, although that’s a popular suggested remedy.
You simply listen. Your brain wants something, so give in. [iii] Play the earworm song from beginning to end. Afterwards, the brain gets back to business.
The most recent of my earworms was generated by the prompt, but I don’t mind. I like ABBA. Super Trouper was one of the first albums I owned.
[i] Something else I learned from Star Trek: TNG.
[ii] Yeah, I don’t actually mind them, but I felt like writing a dramatic sentence.
[iii] You don’t always give in. The brain is somewhat of a toddler – it doesn’t always make the choices.
photo credit: Star Trek: The Next Generation, Night Terrors (1991)