Repressed sexual tension durng REM sleep? DON’T MIND IF I DO
Oh man, Freud would have a field day with this one. I dreamt about Lead last night, very vividly, for the first time in a long time. And if you don’t know the story behind the nickname/the person, then that’s because everything involving him happened before I even knew you. Yeah, it was that long ago.
Anyway.
So in this dream it’s like ten years into the future. I’m at some reunion/huge science conference somewhere in the U.S. Who do I see there but Lead. He’s some big shot scientist now—very fitting. He seems surprised to see me there, and asks me what I’m doing with my life. Apparently I work for the census bureau (also very fitting). He’s like, “oh, really? I never saw you in that sort of career, that’s really cool,” and we have this really pleasant, congenial discussion. I start to think he’s kinda coming on to me.
It’s then that I notice he’s got this huge pole of metal with him (here we go…). It’s like ten feet tall with all these weird elbow joints in it. I ask him what it is and apparently it’s one of the main components for a big research project he’s working on. Not ten seconds later, he asks me to “hold it” while he goes off and does something else. So he oh-so-metaphorically gives me his huge pole. And he’s gone.
And I lose the pole. Somewhere. Probably outside, because the dream shifts and I’m out in these dusty hills searching for it. Instead, I find a backpack with a gun in it. Even though I knew he was going to hate me for losing his pole, I was so excited to go back inside and talk to him that I gave the gun to a pair of kids wandering around outside (because without it, one of them said, their mother was going to have to “go back on welfare again”) and run back inside the building.
But my damn alarm goes off and I don’t get to talk to him again.
Ugh. Sometimes I wonder, you know? This was almost as weird as the “fruit suit” dream.
hkhkhkhkhkhkjhkhkjhkjh (OH GOD MY TITLE BROKE!)
“One day in retrospect, the years of struggle will strike you as the most beautiful.” ~ Sigmund Freud
Truth.
“Historical Figures I Would Marry: An In-Depth Study”
Finished my studying/homework early. Sitting here watching a PBS documentary on hippopotami. Chatting with Nick. And blaming Nick for what’s to come in this blog.
I was planning on having a nice, quiet, philosophical discussion with him tonight, but that plan backfired faster than a hunting trip with Dick Cheney, so instead I bring you this:
Historical Figures I Would Marry: An In-Depth Study*
1. Voltaire
Top 3 Reasons
1. He’s witty
2. He criticized the Catholic Church
3. Satire is sexy
Advantages
-The conversation! Think of it!
-Letters to each other! Letters to each other!
Disadvantages
-He seems the type to be difficult to get a straight answer out of
2. Socrates (this is based off of Plato’s interpretation of Socrates in his writings)
Top 3 Reasons
1. He died for his beliefs. That’s dedication, people.
2. He taught Plato!
3. He claimed to have a divine voice in his head.
Advantages
-We could talk forever.
Disadvantages
-He’d probably question everything I’d say. That would get old.
3. Rousseau
Top 3 Reasons
1. “Penpal” to Voltaire!
2. Basically came up with the autobiography.
3. “The Social Contract!”
Advantages
-Oh, I think we’d have fun.
Disadvantages
-I think the whole “Romanticism” thing would get to me after awhile.
4. Plato
Top 3 Reasons
1. Oh, come on, he’s Plato!
2. Philosopher.
3. Writer.
Advantages
-Oh, the rhetoric!
Disadvantages
-Our relationship would probably be strictly platonic.
5. Freud
Top 3 Reasons
1. He’s the father of psychoanalysis. I mean, come on.
2. He analyzed EVERYTHING.
3. Have you read The Interpretation of Dreams? Wow.
Advantages
-Again, think of the conversation!
-We could collaborate on things.
Disadvantages
-Neither one of us would ever shut up. Seriously.
6. Millard Fillmore
Top 3 Reasons
1. Best president ever.
2. Last words = “the nourishment is palatable.”
3. In the election of 1856 he won one of the highest popular vote percentages of any third-party candidate.
Advantages
-My goodness, everything!
Disadvantages
-None, if you don’t mind never being remembered. Ever.
Yeah. I should have gone with Matt, Lindsey, and Gary for movies.
*not nearly as in-depth as it could be, so be thankful for that. And there are only six.
Blog 339: in which I partake in an old fashioned interpretation of my dreams (Freudian style!)
So here we go: since I’m reading Freud’s “Interpretation of Dreams,” I’ve decided to take several dreams I’ve had over the past few days (ones that I had written down the morning after) and analyze them using Freud’s methods. I must say, a lot was explained:
Dream #1: “I was dreaming of the way I think—that is, I was looking at something which resembled ideas and thoughts crisscrossing and passing through a synapse in my brain…the words (intelligible) were colored various neon—yellow, pink, blue, green—and were swiftly shooting across the black synapse on dotted tracks. Then I thought of the phrase “orchestrated chaos” in response to how the mind works, and then went on to try to justify (or fail to justify) this idea. I went on to think that if one uses the concept of an orchestra, one must assume that there is a conductor present—a god figure. I do not believe this is so, but I could not, in the dream, think of another concept/idea to define the way the mind works.”
According to Freud, the material for dreams arises solely from experiences of the day prior. In other words, no matter what is in your dream, it has come from something you thought about/experienced/were reminded of the day before.
“passing through a synapse in my brain”
This probably comes from a discussion I had with Nick over MSN Messenger regarding his psychology 101 homework—the reading involving how the brain sends messages from one neuron to the next. Of course, we’d had this discussion a few weeks ago. However, I was looking through my conversation history last night before I went to bed, and I came across this conversation. Boom! Explanation.
“I thought of the phrase ‘orchestrated chaos'”
I think this leads back to my on psychology class. On the day before spring break, we watched a video on personality and how it develops over ones lifetime. The video used the analogy of an orchestra, showing at different stages a child conductor, a teen conductor, and an adult conductor. I remember thinking at the time the phrase “orchestrated chaos” as the phrase to explain early personality. Yesterday in band, as we were playing, the phrase came to me again. And that’s what reminded me of it.
“a god figure.”
This one’s simple: discussions today in Core about the origin of the world and the presence (or lack thereof) of a god.
Dream #2: “I was upstairs in my parent’s house, and I remember feeling like I was going out of my mind. I was throwing all these papers around and was flipping all these tables over. I was screaming at my mom, all the while thinking, ‘it doesn’t matter what I do—I’m insane!’ Eventually, I ran upstairs and hid under the bathtub. I was afraid that I had scared my kitten, Annabelle.”
“and was flipping all these tables over”
This is probably the most interesting link. I had to think about it for a little while to figure out where this came from. Then it hit me: The Simpsons. That night I was watching The Simpsons on TV and it was the episode in which the family is put on a reality TV show. Anyway, near the end, the abandoned Simpsons and other castaway reality TV stars rebelled against the cameramen, destroying their campsite and flipping over tables. I found it very strange that I dreamt about this.
“and hid under the bathtub. I was afraid that I had scared my kitten, Annabelle.”
This is another easy link. Last weekend I was at home and I accidentally knocked over a bunch of crap that I’d had stacked up in the closet. This scared Annabelle, who ran upstairs. I went up to look for her, and finally found her under the bathtub. On the day I had this dream, I had knocked some stuff off of my bed at my dorm. This reminded me of Annabelle, and I was glad she wasn’t there to get scared.
Freudian Sleep
Ohhhhhh man…I think my unconscious is telling me something…
So last night I had this really whacked-out (yet freakishly realistic-feeling) dream about Freud. I’ll try to describe it for you:
I’m in this really purple room—I mean, EVERYTHING’S purple. I’m sitting on a purple bed all alone, when suddenly I feel this breathing down the back of my neck. I start thinking, “now I’ll get an A,” and I turn around and good ol’ Sigmund’s there, sitting on the purple bed with me. The following dialogue takes place (is it sad that I remember this verbatim?):
I go, “Hey.”
He goes, “Welcome to the subconscious.”
“It’s everything I thought it would be.”
“I am Dr. Sigmund Freud. I hear you’re reading my book.” (which I am in real life).
“Yes. I am fascinated by your theories on dreams and your methods of dream analysis.”
“Would you like to know the secret of the human mind?”
“Yes.”
And then he starts going on about how purple is the color of sexual desire and how purple has no rhyme for the same reason nothing compares to sex. I’m thinking this whole time that I’d better write this stuff down, but I don’t have time to look for a pencil and paper while he’s talking, so I don’t do anything. I don’t remember this little speech word-for-word, but when it was over, we said this:\
Me: “You are a genius.”
Freud: “You have been enlightened. Now will you do a favor for me?”
(I nod.)
Freud: “Do you have complete confidence in me?”
“Yes.”
“Show me your id.”
So apparently, showing someone your id involves taking off your clothes, because I strip naked and stand completely bare in front of the father of psychoanalysis. I think I was laughing, too.
“Turn around,” he says.
“Yes.” I follow his command.
Then I hear this freaky whispering sound—it wasn’t really whispering, but it was kinda like it—so I turn around cause I’m getting cold and no one is there. I remember being scared at this point—I mean, REALLY scared—and I start asking, “Freud? Freud? Sigmund?” And then start screaming “SIGMUND!” in a way not unlike Stanley’s “STELLA!” In “Streetcar Named Desire.” And then I woke up.
What the hell does this mean? Am I supposed to know, since I think I was being psychoanalyzed DURING the dream? Why is it that I repeat the word “yes” four times? Oh, and I forgot to mention that the whole dream played out as if it were shot with a wide-angle lens. Hm.
Ah, well. At least Freud and I didn’t get it on.
I think.
Ohhhh dear
Hello, my name is Claudia and I’m a Freudian.
I think.
I agree with most of his bigger ideas, like his theory of the id, ego, and superego, his ideas of defense mechanisms, and yes, even partially with his theories of psychosexual development. Jung, though, who branched off from Freud’s theories, is another theorist whom I follow.
I think.
Ugh. It’s too early to be doing this.
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