My Dreams

So I've started keeping a dream journal, in one of my spiral-bound notebooks. Did my first entry this morning, and it really is something sad.

I'll put it right out there; my dreams are pathetic. I experience them like I'm watching a movie. Seriously, camera angle was a major part of today's entry. It also was almost coherent as a story, but not a very good one. The worst part was that I was being played by Brendan Fraser by the end. Also, I had a sister, who at the beginning of the dream was played by a nude model that I've seen on the internet (although at that point in the dream I wasn't her brother, though her brother did exist), but by the end was being played by Halle Berry.

Never mind that I haven't seen anything by either actor in a while (I saw a bit of the Mummy Returns a little while ago), the annoying thing is that I can't seem to be fully engaged in my dreams. They're like movies. I'm always playing a part, sometimes to the point where I'll develop character traits that are actively nothing like my own. And not in a conscious vs. subconscious way, I mean that I'm projecting new sorts of traits upon myself.

Perhaps it's just because I'm unsatisfied with my own life. Except this sort of thing has been happening since I was really young, when I actually can definitely say that I was satisfied with my own life.