I keep a dream journal, the absolute lamest kind of journal a person can keep. Worse than a diary and way WAY worse than a sketchbook or idea journal. It serves absolutely no purpose, other than making me feel like a loser. I actually forgot all about the journal until I found it this morning. 

 

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First page. Okay, nothing too crazy. In this dream, I stay after school to watch a movie (because the school has a built-in theater in my dreams) and then I’m…chased by a vampire?

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In this dream, class rankings are announced and I’m at the top. God,  even my dreams are nerdy.

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“I have a mentor meeting at 12:00. It’s 4:30 and I’m still not ready.” (I wonder why “dream me” didn’t realize the meeting had probably ended?) “And I have a maid.” (She seemed really nice.)

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“A section of wire on my braces snap off and my teeth start moving around.” Not going to lie, this one freaked me out.

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Underwater.

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Duck Camp is actually a summer-long Ernie Goes to Camp-type ordeal? Good grief. “I end up ditching the group and then found some candy.” (Redemption!)

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Bodyguard. Hit-man. Car chase.

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No good comes out of my subconscious.

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