This is a ramble; I’ve borrowed a long book to read on the Tube and so my urge to write (which I’ve been sating with pen and paper) can once more be expressed through blogging.

I dream regularly, and go back to the same dream-places and themes often.  It won’t surprise you to read that a fair number of my dreams involve time travel, for example; I recall one nightmare I had several years back where a future version of myself would appear for a brief instant in a random place, then she would vanish again, unable to have communicated anything or absorbed her surroundings.  The entire dream was the predestined knowledge that I was about to have an effectively fatal accident with a time machine, and having to say goodbye to my friends and family, and gathering them to the time machine chamber (it looked like an unadorned Stargate) so that I would have choice of when I died and so that I wouldn’t die alone.

This focus on relationships is typical of my nightmares.  Another old nightmare: I had been sentenced to death by execution, and my family didn’t come to visit, leaving me to stare at the sky and listen to the distant sound of a rock concert both of my brothers were attending.  Not since I was a child have my nightmares involved physical peril; even in adolescence they were more emotional and involved images of Hell and inescapability.

Nightmares are rare, I should add; I seldom dream of parties but my dreams of parties are commoner than my nightmares, and my dreams of time travel somewhere between the two.  In fact, recently I’ve noticed a lot more parties in my dreams, and I’m curious as to why.  At these parties, I pour myself an alcoholic drink without thinking, take a small mouthful and swallow, and then remember I’m not drinking at the moment.  I spit out what I can, and pour the rest of the glass back into the bottle if it’s wine, or offer it around if it’s beer.  This is all the detail I generally remember from the dream, indicating I probably woke soon after.

Am I dreaming more often of parties because my subconscious is dying for a glass of white wine, or are my dreams quite regularly filled with lively parties that I’m only remembering because I’m waking up right after absent-mindedly taking a swig from a glass?  My dreams have a pattern of going unrealistic not for physical-world reasons – flying dreams are great and last AGES! – but because I reject how I acted in those dreams – one of my first lucid dreams happened because I turned up to an exam late with no pens, and found this impossible to reconcile with my self-image.

Regardless, dreams are good, and party dreams are always nice.