Semiregular Open Thread

[erinptah]

In which the thread lives up to the "semiregular" part of its name.

So, okay, I was all set to come up with a better topic than this, and then last night I had a dream in which I was apparently hanging out with a teenaged Rachel Maddow. And, for some reason, we were both trying to pass for male.

Anyone want to psychoanalyze that share their own fakenews'n'pundity dreams? Or talk about what you think the characters dream about. Possibly in the form of fic, possibly just with bad puns. (Does Anderson dream of electric sheep?)

Comments

[aybara_max]

That is a pretty awesome dream :D ::tries to convince brain to dream about teenaged Maddow tonight....c'mon, you can do it! What?! not mad cow, now you're just reaching!::

Hmm. The one Stephen dream I remember in detail is not for tender ears, but the fun thing about it was that in the dream I was Stephen which amused me greatly. I also had a great epic fantasy style dream where I think Stephen and Rachel (and possibly Anderson?) were my companions, and halfway through I realized I was asleep and actually started getting mad that my brain had stuff like this in it that it wouldn't share while awake, so of course I can't remember any of it now :) :sighs:

I liked the pun XD Hmm. Jon has done sex, drugs n' rock & roll (well comedy, but been on stage, close enough), dated models, is now successful and has adoring family and friends, yet insomnia still plagues him. When he is lucky enough to sleep heavily and peacefully he dreams of making the last play of the game that seals the World Series Championship for the Mets.... well okay, even in his dreams he is realistic and he's usually watching Nate making the game winning play. More frequently though he has vivid terrifying dreams of the people he loves being torturted, emotionally, physically. On these nights his legs frequently jump and churn at the bedclothes until his mind reaches the tipping point and wrestles its way up toward consciousness. His legs still and there are a few paralyzing moments of quiet as his mind breaks the surface of reality yet remains aware of everything it just experienced. Then Tracey's breathing changes pitch and the warmth of her back seeps into Jon's shoulder, a grey shape resolves itself into the alarm clock by the bed, and slowly Jon remembers that he has hands and lungs and lips. It's too early to wake his wife or get the kids going, but he wanders into the kitchen anyway to make coffee. There's an abandoned crossword on the table, and his mind happily rises to the task, any traces of his dreams dissolved in the soothing pattern of penstrokes and caffiene. There's no question of trying to go back to sleep. His dreams never trouble him while awake, but there's always the next time... that imprecise moment when he is no longer awake but hasn't been dragged under by sleep, it then that he remembers the horror on his loved one's faces, and it's then that he knows that he is the one causing them pain. And he sleeps.



So... that was only meant to be rambly musing, not actual fic. Hmm.