What follows is a selection from a very brief period where I was keeping the journal on a regular basis. Like the kind samaritan apologizing for his loutish drunken brother, I feel that I, the conscious me, should comment briefly on my unconscious self. First, I love my roommates. Really and truly. Going through a somewhat tumultuous period of relations with my immediate family over the last year, I see that some of my dreams from this period fit my roommates in the roles and situations where those family members should be. Although some of the dreams, I guiltily admit, do touch on issues that my fucked-up psyche does indeed sometimes have with having roommates, no matter how much I love them (the same way that our fucked-up psyches have issues with our families, no matter how much we love them).
Second, yes, I do dream about celebrities this much. In ways similar to putting my roomies in the roles that my family members should be playing, the celebrities fill in for either parts of myself or parts of other people that my subconscious only wants to see out of the corner of its inner eye. Russell Crowe, for example, stands in, I think, for a friend I lived with in Los Angeles. I think Fiona Apple is Jackie, but may well be an ex-girlfriend. Etc., etc., as someone once wisely said.
I also dream about TV, movies, comic books and pop culture as much as this sample might suggest. Again, part of this is my subconscious constantly reframing issues that it would find uncomfortable dealing with directly. And part of it is my brain doing what it likes to do, which is read comics, play video games, and change the channels on the TV set.
I hope to add to these entries at some point, either through finding more messily scribbled entries from the period covered or earlier, or else taking up the journal keeping yet again. I know that there are several dreams for this particular period missing, as this was during a time where I was dreaming about hotels a lot (more than the brief mentions on Oct. 18 and Oct. 31 would suggest) and this again, I think, was symbolic of my inner state--hotels being such great shorthand for displacement. Most of the hotels in my dreams from this period were pretty cool places. It's nice to think that my psyche was trying to remain optimistic, even about fears it couldn't bring itself to face directly.