Party in your head, but watch out for candy canes

Aren't dreams fascinating?

The idea that we no longer have control over our own thoughts is a bit intimidating. As humans, we like to have some kind of authority in the situations we take part in every day -- whether it's walking the dog ("Slow down, Rover!") or ordering lunch ("Ham on rye, hold the mayo").

But once the body succumbs to drowsiness, your brain is like a teenager whose parents left the house for the weekend.

"Party time!" it says, scrolling through its cell phone and calling up friends. And these are no normal friends. Of course, you couldn't expect a talking brain to have normal friends could you? No, these friends are not your typical Joe and Jane.

Now I will give the gray matter some credit in that it doesn't ALWAYS want to cause you mental anguish. Sometimes it'll just invite friends from the Science Club.

But most of the time, he gets mixed in with the wrong crowd and he'll tell his friends Ax Murderer, Clown Monster and Didn't-Have-Enough-Credits-To-Graduate College to bring over some beer and a carton of Virginia Slims. These are the dreams you must be cautious of. In fact, these aren't dreams at all.

Much like your parents coming home early to find the place trashed, it's called a nightmare.

I've had my fair share of these, whether it's Godzilla chasing me through an amusement park in the middle of a forest or being stabbed multiple times with a candy cane by a faceless person. These things we call nightmares are unpleasant.

But what do they mean? What do your dreams represent? Is there any kind of subliminal message being given to us using Godzilla and candy canes as symbols? Or am I just some insane man who's going to end up living in a refrigerator box?

Sigmund Freud's theory of dreams was a very detailed and precise one. He believed any image we saw while sleeping held some kind of sexual innuendo.

We may never know for sure what premonitions our dreams are giving us or why Godzilla and I can't be friends, but at least we can experience extraordinary things even as our bodies sleep.

And that, my friends, is something even my faceless killer should be proud to be a part of.

sdereign@semissourian.com