I’ve been a dream interpreter for nearly 30 years. I know my way around a latent subconscious desire expressed through abstract mental imagery conjured within the depths of R.E.M. sleep. I’m more than qualified to say that your dreams are not normal and that you’re all disgusting perverts. What the hell is the matter with all of you?
Look, oftentimes, a sex dream isn’t really about sex. If you’re sleeping with an ex in a dream, it really just means your subconscious is coming to terms with your past, hoping to close one chapter so it can turn to the next. But that one dream where your dad was ferociously chomping away at bananas? You’re sick. You have a sick, disgusting mind. Clients will ask what it means, hoping I’ll excuse it as normal dream behavior, but they know what it means: They’re freaks. I refuse to launder your brain filth anymore.
One way to think about dreams is as an elaborate metaphorical reflection of who you are and what you want. Sex can just be an odd way our brains highlight desire, but not always. For instance, for around 15% of you, that dream where you had sex with an animal was actually about your desire for loyalty and companionship. The rest of you just want to fondle that penguin.
The sad part is that a lot of you just don’t understand the depths of your own depravity, so when you tell me about your dreams, it’s like you’re speaking Chinese but don’t realize you were only taught dirty words. When one of my clients told me she had a dream that she was chased by anthropomorphic mangoes threatening to bludgeon her with a large set of keys, she sat there thinking it confirmed that she’s quirky and adorable, even in her dreams. Meanwhile, I know the keys are penises; the mangoes are pure, hot sex; and being chased by them means her subconscious is aching for her to be the gooey center of a sexual dog-pile.
Dreams are the symbolic part of you that’s unrestrained by the moral and societal norms that, for better or worse, hinder us from being our wilder selves. At least, that’s the theory. Most of your dreams are so lacking in symbolism that I wonder why you even need me to interpret the hardcore porno on a constant loop in the peep show that is your unconscious mind. There’s not a whole lot to interpret when your dream is just you making a meal of someone’s genitals. What brilliant insight am I supposed to bring to the table? “Oh, this is clearly your subconscious desire to connect with another person with whom you share a passion, such as woodworking or scuba diving.” No. I know what you really want because your brain is just a porn loaf, and you’re serving slices like it’s sheet cake at an office birthday party.
Do you people ever think about anything else? Possessing the power of flight? Being chased by a scary monster? Your teeth falling out? A massive cheek-to-cheek grin spreads across my face when a client describes a boring, run-of-the-mill dream, but then, it fades when they hit me with the twist: They were laying the narrative tracks for the disgusting porno to come. They’re fucking in the air, fucking monsters, fucking teeth. The hope that their mind will be the one that floors me with its refreshing creativity flutters away before I can grab it, and I remember that all of you are just disgusting perverts.