Very Intense Dreams

Last night, I wrote five pages and found myself getting sleepy really early. I'm always trying to catch up on sleep, so I figured, why fight it? I jumped in the sack, out like a light.

But then I woke up in the middle of the night. I'd gone to bed too early. I tried just lying there in the dark, but no dice. All that does is fill the void with thinking about the job, whatever script I'm working on, etc. So I read some Howard for about half an hour. His writing is so powerful I can't think of anything else; it's a great way to clear the clutter in my brain while waiting for sleep to return. I finally grew drowsy again.

When I shut off the light and closed my eyes, I'm instantly got pulled into slumber, a sensation so powerful it was almost like a drug. Here's the thing, though -- I wasn't totally asleep. I could hear the other people in my building, and I had the freedom to open my eyes and look around the room. When I closed my eyes, however, I was plunged into a very intense dreamscape. I was able to go back and forth between REM-level dreaming and looking-around-the room wakefulness, which I did several times. It was exactly like standing in a pool and being able to submerge your head or stand up in the air at will.

I'd never experienced anything like that before.

This went on for what seemed to be a long while. The dreams themselves had very little narrative, but were generally set around Hollywood and its environs. It was almost like a sandbox-style video game. It was a magnified version of Hollywood, taking place in a night so black it was subterranean... not to imply a nightmare, though. I went into buildings and met people and did stuff, but none of it was like... I'm fucking supermodels or battling ninjas. It was reality, in fast cuts, plus twenty percent, if that makes any sense.

I woke up again, this time as the first sun crept into the lair. I closed my eyes, and this time I was out for real. No shenanigans or weirdness - I just passed right the fuck out. And the dreams followed me. It was like an intense workout for my subconscious.

My alarm went off, and I got out of bed with a rare regret. Usually, I jump up, read Hagakure and go about attacking my day. A part of me longed to recapture this experience I'd had. Just as well, though - that way lies madness.

One would think that, from the work my brain was putting in and the stop'n' start nature of the sleep, I'd wake up all bedraggled and shit. But that's not the case... I feel rested in a very, very rare way, calm and balanced but alert and engaged. I wish I could experience this every night, but then again, it wouldn't make what happened to me last night special.

I have no idea where this came from, or what triggered it.

And, oh yeah, it's my birthday. Weird, huh?