“I had the weirdest dream last night…”
You’re at your aunt’s house, except she doesn’t really look like your aunt; she looks like your seventh-grade math teacher. She’s tying to tell you something really important but her words come out all underwater-sounding like the parents in Charlie Brown. Suddenly you’re outside. You don’t know how you got there and the trees are swaying crazily. You feel a warm breeze. Then this guy walks up and…
Oh my god I am so fucking bored.
Unless your dreams involve lots of acrobatic sex with monsters and pirates , no one cares about them.
Your dreams, for the most part, are just clutter filling up the dustbin of your mind. And on those rare occasions when they are meaningful, they are still not interesting. So unless you are a child (or, again, monsters and pirates), shut up about your dreams.
And get off my lawn.