Weird dreams

I should write down my dreams somewhere, maybe write a dream-diary, maybe buy some book on dream-analysis. But I have read so many scientific articles on the subject and I'm quite convinced that there is no bigger significance in what we dream about. Freud was really into this whole thing and he also thought that cocaine would be a great medication for the mentally ill because it doesn't cause addiction. He was wrong about that, so he was probably wrong about the dreams as well. I see dreams as nothing more than hallucinations, the mind and the brain being in a trance-like state. Sure, sometimes we dream about things that have happened during the day, things we worry about. But still, there is no truth in dreams, there are no answers in dreams.

I get really bad nightmare when I only take Propavan. During the nights I take Propavan and Zoplicone I don't dream at all. I have had nightmares all my life but none of them were as fucked up as the ones I'm having these days. Am I the only one getting this side-effect from Propavan?

So last night I dreamt I was sitting in some kind of lecture course at my old university in Germany. The lecturer was some kind of weirdo and all of the sudden he pulls out a rifle and a gun and starts shooting people. I soon realize that he's only shooting the people who look left.wing or like immigrants. An Indian girl next to me gets shot and her dead eyes are starring at me. I try to crawl out of the room (I'm sitting in the back of the room, near the door) and I have to get passed dead bodies, bleeding, some of them still somewhat alive, moaning. I crawl out and there is another man with a gun stepping into the room. I play dead, he steps on me and I try to not make a sound. He goes down the stairs and starts shooting people. I crawl out of the room and without looking back, I start running. I come to some huge basement and there are hundreds of people hiding, families, old people, wounded people. We hear the sound of guns being used. One woman screams, everything turns silent and then a door opens. I don't even look at who is coming in, I just start running. I find an open window, I crawl out and I run into the forest nearby. Hiding. I hear helicopters and police sirens.

That's the nightmare I had last night. What the fuck?!?

My boyfriend just called, he's on his way home already. He had to go to some course today and they finished early. He really needs some rest. The last few days it really felt like he was more mentally ill than me. The anxiety I could see in his eyes, it made me feel so helpless. So I hope I can make him feel comfortable today. I'll cook some nice dinner, we can watch whatever he wants to watch on TV. I'll make tea. Oh hell, I might even bake some cookies.