I promise you in advance that I have not been partaking of the root of valerian nor have I been connecting nine volt batteries to my forehead. Both of these are means (crazy or not) that I attempted to utilize in past to bring about lucid or at least really f’ed up dreams.
And again, before I continue, I realize that yes, I should be taking this lazy Sunday morning to write a few more pages of my novel (my second one I note) but I am in a place chock a block with loud cheer-moms who do not read books or magazines and instead spend all their free time watching their chubby little girls pretend they have a future in cheerleading.
But I digress.
I have these past few weeks been blessed with some really really messed up dreams. I am not one that has the insane belief that dreams foretell the future, they merely mirror the state of your mind whether known or hidden. Below find the best of the best:
I am at my work. I take the stairs down a floor to get a coffee. I look outside and examine a giant head shaped brick statue that had obsidian eyes that stare not away toward the world, but toward the building I am in. This is because my office is in a former nurses residence at a property that was one a huge psychiatric hospital. The Statue is as big as the building and was intended when originally built to show that we should be looking into ourselves for answers and not beyond. (Hey, its a dream, I don’t know where this comes from). This statue does not exist in real world space just so you know. As I stare and the light shifts ever so much from behind clouds, I can see that inside the head, behind the “obsidian” eyes, is a hidden room. In the room is a desk covered by deist and papers. Behind the desk is a statue of a hydra. I know I need to find a way into this room.
I wake up.
I am assisting a deceased friend head up a military unit of British Commonwealth soldiers liberate the United States from an oppressor that has completely destroyed most of the nation. We are winning. Shane says to me “You know, if they had stopped pushing their views on others they wouldn’t have had this happen to them. Minding your own damn business is a virtue…” Then we shot some bad guys and blew up a tank.
I wake up.
I am in a car with my friend Ian. Some woman starts talking to us, ignoring her husband “Rick”. Eventually he leaves with another guy. She says that they are breaking up because he has become convinced yet world is going to be invaded and he is so obsessed she cannot manage to be around him anymore. Then she drives us to the Red Lion Pub in Belleville and Ian says his dad Dave will be there waiting for us.
I wake up.
And finally last night’s epic.:
My family and I have bought a house in the country. I am in charge of drilling borehole to find bedrock so we can have the contractor drive caisson for the new front porch. They call me back from a hike I am on to tell me that there is a problem. There is no bedrock when they go to pour the concrete. There has been a collapse. I crawl under porch and see that there is now a caved-in cavern under the area. I use a flashlight and see the cave and a tunnel that ends in stairs I drop down in and start to explore. The stairs leads upward into an office buildings. I head up three floors and find a deserted space full of desks, chairs, papers etc. and ditsy maps. I determine that this is a municipal office. I look out of the windows and see that this is a deserted space. I find that that a large pane window has been blown outward. I look down to see skeletons on the ground below. I begin to feel tingly. This place is haunted with something. I grab a book I see is not right. I run back down stairs through the cavern to my house. There is no office building in site nor a city.
I wake up.
I blame my wife’s muffins I keep eating in the middle of the night.
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