Never ceasing to be amazed.
The Wonders of the Human Mind
It never ceases to amaze me that the human mind, a complex system of processes and functions, is so diverse and yet united. While one side calculates of the cost of your Big Mac the other can debate whether McDonald’s colors are red and yellow because of the clown or ketchup and mustard. I ponder at the intriguing statements of my psychology professor as he discusses many others who found the noodle quite an enigma and explored it’s actions. Yet sometimes it doesn’t take a college professor, not even a college student, to take a time out and do some thinking about the dust upstairs.
My first own analysis of the intellect of our minds came about when I fist came to Edinboro for college. First off, I was already a nervous wreck, crying everyday and yearning to go home into the arms of my loving boyfriend (crowd goes ‘Aww’) and to stroke the hairs of my dogs and cats at home. (Who most likely is taking over my room as we speak.) Yet I was forced at this institution of learning, abandoned and alone from all familiar territory and with such changes in my life other things changed as well. My sleeping pattern, a once strong, solid, and powerful force, was now restless and weary. But despite the unusual awakenings at 3AM, then 6AM, then 10 minutes before my alarm, my dreams were extremely vivid. I just don’t mean a dream about prancing ponies and fluffy bunnies; I mean in your face-wake up and think you’re still there dreams. Just a few examples of the weirdo twilight zone episodes include:
Dreaming of my boyfriend being mentally disabled and me taking care of him while my mother inquires about an outfit I am to pick out for a fashion show.
My roommate being abducted from our room by Edinboro police stating there has been an overabundance of enrolling students and Manna (roommate) has been forced to leave the campus. I, outraged and spitting in the police officer’s face, fight for Manna and we consider off-campus housing.
I return to Edinboro for my Sophomore year and instead of living in Rose Hall, I am forced to live in an underground dormitory, which in fact was quite lavish and beautiful, but dark. I exclaimed through the entire dream “I don’t have a window! How can I watch the snow fall?!”
I climb I tree at a house that isn’t John’s (boyfriend) but it is and I take digital picture of an elk that stared at me, charged, and then tried climbing the tree. Instead of fleeing in fear, I am joyous at the great shots I am getting.
A former high school yearbook advisor nagging me in the middle of these dreams asking me absurd question about the 2004 edition.
All these dreams were triggered by something the previous day. I talk about pictures, I dream about a camera; I think about the police, they come and arrest me in my dreams. The dreams are now slowing down to a steady pattern of meaningless dribble I wake up, rub my eyes, find Snoopy, and go back to sleep and forget. Yet every now and then, the mind will lock something up in a cage and say ‘Let’s see what we can do with you for the night.’ As you can see, maybe it’s not an analysis. Maybe it’s just the evident fact that I might need therapy some day.
My first own analysis of the intellect of our minds came about when I fist came to Edinboro for college. First off, I was already a nervous wreck, crying everyday and yearning to go home into the arms of my loving boyfriend (crowd goes ‘Aww’) and to stroke the hairs of my dogs and cats at home. (Who most likely is taking over my room as we speak.) Yet I was forced at this institution of learning, abandoned and alone from all familiar territory and with such changes in my life other things changed as well. My sleeping pattern, a once strong, solid, and powerful force, was now restless and weary. But despite the unusual awakenings at 3AM, then 6AM, then 10 minutes before my alarm, my dreams were extremely vivid. I just don’t mean a dream about prancing ponies and fluffy bunnies; I mean in your face-wake up and think you’re still there dreams. Just a few examples of the weirdo twilight zone episodes include:
Dreaming of my boyfriend being mentally disabled and me taking care of him while my mother inquires about an outfit I am to pick out for a fashion show.
My roommate being abducted from our room by Edinboro police stating there has been an overabundance of enrolling students and Manna (roommate) has been forced to leave the campus. I, outraged and spitting in the police officer’s face, fight for Manna and we consider off-campus housing.
I return to Edinboro for my Sophomore year and instead of living in Rose Hall, I am forced to live in an underground dormitory, which in fact was quite lavish and beautiful, but dark. I exclaimed through the entire dream “I don’t have a window! How can I watch the snow fall?!”
I climb I tree at a house that isn’t John’s (boyfriend) but it is and I take digital picture of an elk that stared at me, charged, and then tried climbing the tree. Instead of fleeing in fear, I am joyous at the great shots I am getting.
A former high school yearbook advisor nagging me in the middle of these dreams asking me absurd question about the 2004 edition.
All these dreams were triggered by something the previous day. I talk about pictures, I dream about a camera; I think about the police, they come and arrest me in my dreams. The dreams are now slowing down to a steady pattern of meaningless dribble I wake up, rub my eyes, find Snoopy, and go back to sleep and forget. Yet every now and then, the mind will lock something up in a cage and say ‘Let’s see what we can do with you for the night.’ As you can see, maybe it’s not an analysis. Maybe it’s just the evident fact that I might need therapy some day.
posted by Lindsay K. at 7:53 AM
2 Comments:
Take heart, I don't think you need therapy :) College is stressful. Weird dreams are kind of par for the course I think as you exorcise the anxiety that accumulates through the day. I get them too oddly enough (and don't even have college to blame for it). My recurring dream is that I'm back IN college and came to class unprepared, with no notebook and no assignments to turn in. The weighty disapproval of the professor makes me shrink inwardly.
Weird dreams? That's part of being on those coffin beds they call boards. Since coming to college, I've sleptwalk across the room twice, drempt about going to Seattle, and watched someone get pulled over by a cop.
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