What's the last weirdest dream you had?

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I dreamt that I became an undercover spy for the government for some reason, but it was really shady. We were trained in removing evidence and even kill people if it became inconvenient for the government, and it was apparently all part of a bigger plan. Sadly, I woke up before I got to know what the plan was.

I dreamed that I was at a school, but instead of desks or anything like that, there were individual computers for each student hooked up to an enormous computer that was so big only the screen embedded in the equally enormous wall could be seen. At first there was no one near me, but then an image of a small, pensive-looking child with fair-ish hair and a ragged brown robe appeared on the giant screen, but was spontaneously sitting next to me, apparently as an 'old friend'. At least, that was the impression I got.

for the last week my dreams have just been a mishmash of random symbols with no establishable narrative. drat.

I dreamt I was in Madras, Oregon, watching the eclipse, when some gangbangers took issue with my appearance in their "turf" and beat me up hard about the head, and killed me. then as my spirit floated outside my body, one of the passengers in the car I was in, produced a sawed-off shotgun and blew the one who killed me into a bunch of bloody pieces, and the others ran away. then the dream segued into where I was eating raspberry and vanilla ice cream that had been loaded into a big shopping cart, I was licking the ice cream that leaked through the grating. it tasted good. then I awoke.

i'm overdue for another dream.

Reading before bed can drastically influence your dreams.

^^^^so can eating heavy and/or spicy food.

I'm watching videos of my favorite tennis players before bedtime, so I can have some pleasant dreams for a change but, so far, no luck.

^^^^mebbe try eating something distinctive before bed?

Even when I do occasionally read before bed, what I read and my next dream often don't match up at all.

I had a complicated dream, first I was amiably chatting with some upper-middle-aged rich guy with the bearing of the late William Buckley, then I watched as he made his obese adult male children paint the interior of his mansion in a custard yellow color. then I was driving out in the countryside where I live, and ended up on a cul-de-sac which terminated with an abandoned warehouse-style hardware store, and I was chatting with another person looking at the property and telling him I wanted to turn it into a mansion, he suggested making a bunch of condos instead. then we debated his suggestion that the English language needed to be drastically simplified with the bulk of words deleted, and I told him that George Orwell would have frowned on such a thing, also how could you write songs and poetry with so few words? and the guy replied, "we don't need any of that stuff."

^:o Well, then.