Vivid Dreams

by Virgil Soule. 0 Comments

I frequently have these dreams that are quite vivid in nature. Things are in color and I have conversations with people. Another characteristic seems to be that things happen or exist in vast spaces.

I remember one in which I was walking with another fellow down a long hallway. The place was reminiscent of the scifs (sub-compartmented information facilities) where I once worked. We turned a corner at a jog in the hallway and there was an old friend named Charlie working as a janitor. We exchanged pleasantries and chatted for a few moments while my escort opened a door into a scif. Charlie and I said our goodbyes. He went off down another hallway pushing his broom or mop and I turned and went on into the room just opened. There the dream ended.

In another dream, I lived in a house that seemed ordinary in most respects except that one rather long hallway opened into a vast theater-like room. The walls all around were paned with large translucent glass windows. The room sloped down toward a stage or maybe a place where a stage might go. The odd thing about the room was that it was unfinished. The floor was dirt with mounds of earth and construction debris lying scattered about. Off to the left were several other doorways. I took one and found myself in a maze of rooms: some were empty; some had people on them, and some had stuff piled in them. I must have awakened somewhere in there because I don’t remember finding my way back to my living quarters.

That’s another thing about them: I remember them – vividly – not for a while but indefinitely, like they were actual events in my experience.

In another of these dreams, I lived in a house that was laid out rather like the building of a church I once attended. The living quarters were in front. In back was a large hallway space with stairways down to other hallways. The stairway at the rightmost end of the hallway went down to another room with exits to the sides and double doors that opened to another long hallway. This hallway opened into an arcade or shopping mall with people coming and going in a maze of rooms and shops. I never did find my back out of there either.

Another house in another dream was like an ordinary house in an ordinary neighborhood but the basement was a never-ending maze of rooms and corridors. It was rather like the Tardis in the Dr. Who television series. Externally, all anyone sees is a blue London telephone booth but when you go inside, you enter a world in another dimension that’s virtually infinite. That infinitude is what reaches across to any time and place in the universe.

In a more-recent dream, I was in a flying machine of some sort that had plenty of power and allowed me to do pretty much what I wanted. I remember pulling back on the stick in a tight situation and the engines responded to lift me out of it. The landscape was rough and eroded rather like the Badlands in western North Dakota only more mountainous. I could fly up and down in the gullies and along the ridges as I pleased. I remember seeing the tubular hulls of other aircraft lying about. Some appeared to be helicopters and others, curiously enough, were seaplanes – hulls only, no sign of wings or tails or other parts. Equally curious was that the derelict hulls all had rust-colored patches, which they wouldn’t have had if they were made of aluminum.

In yet another dream, I was in a room in which everything was blue: the walls, my bed, my pajamas, everything. A little blue radio on a blue bedside table was playing a melody I didn’t recognize. Someone looking like a man with blue skin dressed all in blue stood at the foot of my bed, apparently upset and berating me for my presence there. I could hear him yelling but couldn’t understand a word he was saying.

I’ve had many others; those are just the more memorable ones.

A friend suggested that I might be having episodes of sleep apnea and the dreams are my oxygen-starved brain trying to wake me up so I’ll breathe again. I maybe should mention them to my doctor.


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