Elementary school terrorist attack.

I had a strange dream last night:

I see that I am at my old elementary school, Holly Hills and there are hundreds of people walking around, both inside and out. I get some information concerning a terrorist attack so i, with a handful of other gents, run to the far end of the school by the woods. The road turns to water as i climb the stairs of a small tower overlooking the approaching road. I look through my scope and wait, while the other guys tread the water with their guns pointed in the same direction. Within minutes, a few red Jeep Wranglers approach. A thick fog settles over us all so i switch my goggles to “ice” mode, turning the men in the jeeps into easily seen bright blue figures. My finger is lightly squeezing the trigger. I wait. The men in the jeeps are turned back after some arguing. I come down from the tower to re-group with the other guys. They say we should go back to the school but i disagree, saying we need a few men here just in case the jeeps come back. My advice is not taken so we all leave back to the school. 

Walking around the front area of the school, i hear rumbling in the distance. I look to where the tower is and see the jeeps roar into view, catching the attention of some other people walking around. A group of 40 hop out and set off a high-pitched signal and disappear. An explosion is heard in the distance, startling everyone. Then it hits home: simultaneous explosions rock the front area of the school and everybody panics. Civilians strapped with C4 to their bodies start screaming out phrases i don’t understand and blow themselves up, killing everybody around them. Bodies fly. Body parts fly. Fire, blood, smoke and explosions are everywhere. A girl that i am dating tries running toward me but continuously is prevented from reaching me due to the suicide bombers. I hear her screaming over everybody else. It makes me angry so i pull out my nickel-plated hand gun and, running low, taking aim, i shoot at the heads of the would-be suicide bombers that are in my way, leveling them and making a path to her.

I finally reach her and yell at her to get low and stay close to me. The windows of the front of the school blow out, and people with them. Their bodies are charred and some are on fire. I grab her hand and pull her as i run about the front of the school, trying to find a way to get in amidst all of the explosions still going off. I hear my sister yelling my name but i can’t see her. She comes out of the building, sobbing and i yell at her the same thing i did to the other girl with me.

A new entourage of jeeps arrive with men, who jump out. They run frantically into the thickest part of the crowd, followed by a loud crackle and a chain of massive explosions. So loud. My ears are ringing and my sister and the other girl sound far away when they yell even though they are right next to me. I grab my sister and hold her by her waist up against mine with the front side of her body facing the ground. As line of men charge at the three of us, a line of waiting school buses explode. I pull out my gun again and lay the remaining ones out. My sister and the other girl disappear.

I run back to the school through the front doors–which have been blown out and it’s filled with smoke. I find my ma and ask where dad is and she says he is outside waiting for me. The school is unrecognizable on the inside–walls are missing, desks, chairs, everything is on fire, holes in the roof, bodies everywhere. Compared to the mayhem outside, it’s rather quiet in the building aside from the crackling and popping of the fires burning. Eerie. I run to the back doors and a bright light flashes as i open them.

When i can see again, i run toward some tall, red brick walls and charge for them. They open up quickly and close just as quickly once i pass through. I find my dad, along with a large number of police, S.W.A.T. and military running about, talking, and looking over what look like maps. My dad is informing me what is going on as we make our way through the “complex”. Getting close to the exit doors, he and i get our knives ready; i am holstering the one that belonged to my great Grandad. Before exiting, a high-ranking S.W.A.T. officer tells me that i cannot go back to the school with my dad. Media helicopters can be heard overhead. I ask why but he only tells me i need to get to the airport. They boost me over the wall and i turn around, reaching through the iron bars of the door and stick out my hand. My dad grabs it and we give a firm handshake to each other and i choke up, knowing i likely won’t see him again. More explosions heard in the back round. Everything goes white.

I am running through a major airport–feels like Colorado or Arizona. Everyone else is calm. As i pull out my phone, the windows of the section i am in blow inward, shattering and scaring the shit out of everybody. Some fires burn outside of the airport. I try to find the terminal where my ma and sister are. I start texting my friend Brandon to tell him what happened at the Holly Hills school and that he needs to turn on the news. A large number of tv’s explode and fall to the floor and all i can think about is calling my ma to tell her i am ok. Some loud bangs are heard at the end of the airport and a crackling behind me. I turn around. Everything goes black. I wake up.

Solar eclipse signifying a geological cataclysm.

I had a strange dream last night:

Standing in the middle of an expansive field with patches of wheat growing, i looked west. The sun was nine times it’s size–a deep orange color with the center blacked out by a planet. I was in awe. There was a bright ring surrounding it from which “arms” of light lashed out from. I desperately searched for my camera or phone to record it but couldn’t find either. A great many of the people present began to panic and i heard somebody yell out “2012!” but i glared at them, scoffing at their hysteria and inability to remain calm and collected. There was a monk standing next to me and i asked what was happening to our sun. He replied “This is all” and then he ran at full speed toward the sun. 

The scenery changed and i was at my old house on Lawrence Lane. My family was packing the SUV to get out of there. I helped and so did my friend Mike. Instead of getting into the car, we all ran out back but the backyard was our yard from another house we had lived in when i was a child. As we approached a fence, i noticed i was carrying a tray of uncut brownies so yelled at my friend Mike to cut them into squares. He did so with his finger. Weird. A finger? Yea, a finger.

We ran through that person’s backyard and jumped into the SUV and took off. My dad was driving like a madman. After 10 minutes of driving i looked to my left and saw a gigantic cathedral crumble and collapse into dust as the gong of it’s bells could be heard.

Not long after that, we were on I-17, leaving Arizona. I watched on my left as geysers exploded as we drove past them, commenting on it to everyone in the car. An intense sadness overcame me as i realized we were leaving Arizona–even though we had to if we wanted to survive.

Dad’s driving was freaking out my ma but he didn’t seem to hear her protests to slow down; he wove out into the oncoming traffic lane to pass a car and just barely squeezed through the two cars. Roadblocks popped up ahead of us–concrete barriers, causing us to swerve back and forth. Others’ hadn’t been so lucky and their cars were wrecked. After passing through them all, one last one popped up and it had black spots all over it, which my dad avoided but we went off the bridge. My mom screamed and i kind of chuckled over the absurdity of everything that had happened thus far. The vehicle slammed into the river and i yelled out “I love manual windows!” and rolled mine down to get everyone out. Everything went black.

Unintentional rescue grants me a tour under the White House.

I had a strange dream last night:

I was walking through a semi-dingy area of a building, filled with people dressed in rags. There were a great many people there, all gathered and excited to see Barack Obama. He arrived on the scene and everybody went into a frenzy of applause and cheers for some reason. Everything went black. 

When i could see again, i was walking with Obama, drinking a giant 7-11 slurpee. We went into the bathroom to take a whiz and i finished first because i am an over-achiever. A crazed looking man burst forth from the stall with a knife in hand and lunged for the President. I jumped in his way, grabbing his knife but also crashing into Barack, knocking him to the floor while he was peeing. Awkward. The man was arrested (though not by the police, he instead just disappeared) and i was awarded a high honor for protecting the President. He invited me to the White House later that day.

When i arrived, i was rushed to the Oval Office and told to wait for the President. I stood in front of the desk, wondering if there were the hidden parts on it that i saw in “National Treasure 2”. Obama showed up behind me and said i would be given a special tour today, one that nobody has ever been on. At first it weirded me out, but he explained, saying that we were going to the underground section of the White House–the part that was built in the late 1700’s.

We arrived in a stone chamber that served as a library. It was filled with ancient looking books and some of the expensive books i have on my bookshelf. I got excited and told Obama that i had some of the same books and he just chuckled. Paying more attention to this room, it looked like it had been looted over the last century–a lot of books were missing but that didn’t stop me from running from one shelf to another. There were books that had been written during the times of ancient Rome, books on medicine from the 1500’s and all kinds of antique manuscripts.

I asked if i could read one and the President said i could take one home with me. My head almost exploded. I found a 3 volume set about Julius Caesar that i really wanted but i was told i could only have one. I became furious and scolded the President. I warned him about Rome’s history and how it so closely paralleled our own country’s-including the era that immediately preceded its downfall

He told me it was time to leave; i didn’t take a book since i could not have that 3 volume set. We walked through a dank network of tunnel systems, torch in hand and arrived in another room that looked worn-out. The original national flag (the one sewn by Betsy Ross according to American tradition) was hung on a wall in front of me. The president pointed to it and told me to go up to it. As i approached, i felt the ground beneath me start to quake. Woke up.

Cell phone chaos & airport enigma art.

I had a strange dream last night:

Alone, in a stadium with a wrestling ring in the middle. The lighting was very dim but it was warm. After a few moments of dead silence, music and pyrotechnics exploded to my left, shattering the calm and igniting the entire stadium with bright colors and smoke. I looked back into the ring and Edge was standing there with his head held up. Triple H came out of the smoke and joined him in the ring. 

Within minutes there were 8 big-liner names in the ring duking it out. I don’t remember who won but 30 minutes into it, i noticed that the floor was lined with thousands of cell phones. Intrigued, my friend Dids (who had just appeared from nowhere) and i searched through them, looking for ours. At this point there were about one hundred professional wrestlers in the ring fighting each other.

I found the phone that most closely resembled mine (even though it looked nothing like my Cliq) but the bottom was missing. I went back to rummaging through the phones to find the matching bottom piece and became nervous because i heard a countdown overhead, which, when finished, would release thousands of people onto the floor to get their cell phones.

I got 3/4ths of the way through when the timer ended and everybody swarmed the area. The stadium then turned into a grocery store, with everybody still looking for their phones. I walked down the back of the store, passing the aisles and bellowing out that i had a battery with a 1GB card attached to it. Nobody claimed it.

I exited the grocery store through a side door that led me into a lobby area at an airport. Ahead of me, two little kids were running at me. The girl fell on her face when she got within a few feet of me, and her sister laughed at her because she didn’t listen to her mom when she told her not to run in the airport. I walked over to the fallen girl and lifted her up. What i saw was slightly disturbing:

The region under her eyes had swollen and was tinted a sickly yellow color. Her face was bruised, her forehead had a gash in it and she was crying tears of blood. Her lips were swollen as well and some teeth were missing and her tongue had disappeared. Most people would run at this point, however, dream Snads did no such thing. I scooped her up, yelling for her mother and aunt to follow me. We got into an elevator together and hit the button for the “sky floor” (thahts what it said). The aunt took a picture of me holding the girl and thanked me for helping her. I was not sure what she meant so i held the girl back, looking at her, and all of her wounds were gone. At that point we reached the top and exited. I told them all to head west if they wanted to survive.

This area of the airport was quite beautiful. There was art and sculptures everywhere and on section drew me to it. There was an elderly man sitting in a booth next to a large, abstract, colored glass replication of the United States. I opened my mouth to ask him about it and a great light flashed from the east. I ran to the windows to see what had happened and saw nothing, but i did hear a very loud rumbling sound coming my way.

I walked back to the man and he pointed at the “glass map” of the U.S. The map was moving now, shaking. Nebraska, Iowa, Illinois, Missouri, and Arkansas, all turned a rich brown color and flipped upside down, disappearing, and filling the entire airport with light. Woke up.

Special guest Conan O’Brien & Afghan roller blade gangs.

I had a strange dream last night:

My friend Mike and i were in northern NJ going to the post office to get ready for my big move back east. We entered an industrial complex park with tall, unlabeled buildings and entered the one we figured was the post office. It wasn’t. 

I took in the scene before me, hundreds of individuals seated in fold-out chairs, paying close attention to the speaker up front. We made our way up an aisle and took our seats. The speaker was Conan O’Brien. He was doing his last show/relaxed comedy routine, a “getting to know the fans” event.

I looked behind me and noticed that many of the people present were people i had gone to middle school with. They wouldn’t look at me until i looked away, though. When i turned back around, Conan was trying to get my attention. He and i bantered back and forth for a few minutes, causing everyone to laugh uproariously.

After some time, everybody left; Mike and i exited the building and i noticed we were no longer in the same place. We were in some city by an extensive cave network in Afghanistan. It was gorgeous outside. We also no longer had shoes on at this point–we were wearing roller blades. My ma and brother were at the top of the hill ahead of us so we took off, though, to be able to roller blade on the sand, i furiously sprayed clorox bleach on it to harden it for us.

At the top of the hill, in a marketplace area, Mike and i told the two of them about the show and how we accidentally stumbled upon it, upsetting my brother because he wished he had gone with us. I got up and skated around the marketplace as fast as i could (approx 65 mph) until i gt to the fringes of the marketplace.

I came across 3 other groups of roller bladers-all of them color coded and the white team was trying to recruit my brother. I showed of my skills to all of the groups but nobody could see me. Not giving a shit and realizing that meant i could do as i wish without repercussions, i skat (made-up past tense of skate) through everybody, doing all kinds of Matrix-type moves.

I skat (made up past tense of skate) down some hills to see what the turf was like for the red and blue gangs, noticing a lot of shot-down plane’s and choppers in those areas. I got bored after a little bit and went back up to where my brother was. The other colors were there now. The blue gang was primarily made up of black men in their 40’s with really bushy beards and deep voices. Awesome. The reds were white males and females in their 30’s. Not impressed. The white gang consisted of mostly Hispanic men and women but they were all built well–very solid. My brother joined their team. I skated toward them i could hear the wind roar and plowed right through the group of them, backwards and i finally got their attention and they recruited me as well. Woke up.