I had a strange dream last night:

I’m dead. I am not quite sure how, but I am somewhat see through and floating and laugh at this cliche. I look out before me and see mountains and shrubbery.

“Yes, you are dead.”

So says a childhood friend of mine who I have not seen in 10 years, causing me to look back at her. We walk along the dusty mountain path discussing the recent realization of my current circumstances. I bombard her with questions concerning what I can and cannot do being dead. I cannot fly, but I can jump extremely high and glide down. Disappointment! I continue to ask her things while we walk past a beautiful tan mountain face and it immediately grabs my attention. I grab her hand and pull her back and we have a seat against some rocks and stare at it in silence. A few people walk by including a man with an Irish Wolfhound which drags him all over the trail, culminating in him getting the choke chain caught around his thigh and being pulled around while laughing. That’s not strange at all.

We pass by a small shack and I head into a cave by myself and head down some winding stairs with no rail guard to hold on to. I thought I was not in need of light to see where I am going, and so I ask her midway down the steps. She told me that even though I am dead, I need light to see and asks me to look for the blue beads. Right then, I notice a blue bead pulsating a few feet in front of me. After approaching it, I touch it with my foot and it flashes. I reach down to pick it up and it expands into the size of a classroom globe, rising up off the dirt to eye level with me and casts a luminous blue/white glow in the cave. I head back up the stairs and pick up little beads of light along the way so I can see where I am going and all of them react to my touch in the same manner as the first one.

I exit the cave but immediately find another one and she comes in with me. The same thing happens. I find beads of light and touch them to illuminate different parts of the cave. I end up in what I believe to be the middle of the cave and cannot find anything to light it up. I hear a low whisper emanating from the sand beneath my feet. I move the sand out of the way with my hands and sitting there is a gold bead of light and it looks like it is filled with electricity. I pick it up and look closely at it and right as it disappears, it fills the middle section with a gold light, exposing the Sphinx that is sitting at my feet. It is motionless but I can hear its heart beating. Next to it is a statue of the Egyptian Queen Nerfertiti, on her belly with a pole extending from her mouth. I push the pole toward her and it emits a rumbling sound. 2 garage doors open up on the far side of the room, giving a breathtaking view of the desert and mountains outside. My friend and I marvel at the ingenuity of the ancients and their accomplishment of motorized garage door openers.

We head back to the entrance of the cave but more beads of light pop up and lead us to a market selling medicinal oils, incense and other medically-related products. I search through the oils, looking for the “Young Living” brand and find some cinnamon oil, myrrh, and frankincense. I ask the vendor to place them aside for me for later when I return, which he willingly does. I continue to browse and I feel a weight in my hand; opening my palm I see a fistful of gold. I wake up.

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I had a strange dream last night:

I roll over and grope my cordless box thing I use to make phone calls. 10:46 am. Shit. I am late for work. I stare at the phone a bit longer and the following appears on the screen: “10:46 am. Shit. I am late for work.” Apparently I have a super power of some kind involving a deep telepathic bond with cell phones. After backflipping out of bed into a set of 10 jumping jacks while giving myself my usual “Your job NEEDS you!” pep talk, a pep talk that is completely untrue, I run down the stairs and out the door to my…….bicycle? Where the hell is my car? It’s my dream and I demand an Infiniti G35!

The sun is at high morning posture, a yoga position that it is in the process of patenting. I am at 54 Dover Road, my childhood house. The day is crisp & mild with a slight breeze to break up the monotony of perfect. The sound of a jackhammer, a bobcat, and other construction monsters cut through the serene aura of birds chirping. I roll my eyes at the tactlessness of the construction cult for working so early in the morning (to those of us that don’t wake until noon) and notice that my bike has gone missing. I approach the construction worker and over the sound of the jackhammer jacking, yelling like an obnoxious American tourist at a foreigner in their home country, demand to speak with their supervisor. The yellow hat-wearing worker (who has a handsome late 80’s mustache) points into the garage. As I near the supervisor, I see my bike stuck between two planks of boundary wood in a garden. I rip my bike out with some effort and hop on.

Not long into my ride, I notice that the handbrakes are missing. Not only the handbrakes, but the wire that connects them to the brakes, the chain and….the tires. How I managed to ride a bike with no tires is something that would take another whole sentence to explain. I refuse to do that. I clamorously drag my bicycle to the house having the work done on its front yard and right before yelling at the men working, I look up in the sky and see 2 dots on the edge of a cloud. I peer closer at it and everything goes dark for a split second, making me feel like I have been knocked off my feet.

When I open my eyes, I am up in the sky with my girlfriend, whose code name will be “bandia”, which is Gaelic for “goddess”. She and I are debating who would win in a fight: The god of fire, or the god of water. She sides with the Matchbox 20 wannabe and I vouch for the wrath of a thousand squirt guns. They both look like Zeus to me. We look down onto the land beneath us and take in a beautiful sight: 2 temples rise from the beautiful, square pools that remind me of the rectangular one at the Taj Mahal. The one belonging to the flamer is surrounded in pyroclast and steam, its foundation stained in soot. The other temple is surrounded in a rushing torrent of water and an aura of mist. The battle ensues.

By the end of it, the god of water lay dead on the ground, his body still sizzling, charred, and broken, his trident still in his hand. Codename “bandia” starts giving me crap for being wrong and so I hold up my hand and tell her I will be right back. I focus on the god of fire and scream through the sky, landing on my feet next to the god of water with a loud boom. I take the trident from his hand, offended by the smell of burning flesh and fresh blood and aim it at the god of fire, who is too busy standing proudly with his chest out on his temple steps to notice me. I take aim and throw the trident at him and it makes contact, piercing his chest and going through his back; his heart sticking to the two inner pikes. A look of shock crosses over his face and he clumsily stumbles down the steps, taking his last breath before landing on his face. I look back up in the sky at codename bandia and laugh a little, yelling up to her, “I guess that makes me the god now!” I wake up.

Meanwhile, back in Africa…

November 26, 2010

I had a strange dream last night:

Impressive in their size and not built to excess, cream-colored pillars decorate the torch-lit walkway I find myself walking down. I look up at the sky and the moon is full and bright, muting the glow of the stars closest to it. I turn right to an unimpressive & bland gated area, and realizing I don’t have the access required to pass through them, I turn around and am greeted by a smiling, dark-skinned lad. He signals for me to follow him to the end of the walkway; we stop at a large double gate and he slides the key into the lock and opens it for me, inviting me to walk through.

As soon as both of my feet are on the opposite side of the gate, as if in a literal blink of an eye, my surroundings change and I am in what looks like the wilderness of Africa. I hear a loud pop followed by a small explosion and a slight shimmer in the distance catches my eye, like it is winking at me. I take three steps in it’s direction and am next to it. At a closer look, it has tiny grooves of similar pattern at the base and tip and is emitting a low humming noise. I reach out to touch it but before I can wrap my hand around it, the screaming of children assaults my ears. Coming at me is a platoon of African child soldiers, guns firing and grenades exploding a few feet in front of me. In such circumstances I would usually raise my arms and roar/go akimbo and bang some pots and pans together to scare them off but I was caught quite off guard this time. And I was in Africa for some reason. Naturally I did not have my usual composure about me.

They all stopped moving and firing within a few feet of me and lined up. They parted a gap in the middle of the line and a slightly taller young fellow passed them and slowly approached me. Within arms reach, his eyes turned jet black (eerily like the demonic senior from last night’s dream) and his teeth sharpened right before my eyes. He snickered and continued toward me. I whipped out a small, ornate sawed off shotgun and fired off a round at his chest. He stumbled back, stunned a bit but shook it off and continued toward me. We went through this for what seemed too long of a time and each time he became more persistent than the last. I felt a magnetic sensation around my head and eyes, which I was sure was coming from him trying to hold my gaze (a fancy way of trying to put me in a staring contest against my will). The shells would slam into his body and face but he was not wounded by them, only forced back. Eventually I began to wonder what I would do once I ran out of ammo or became bored with the repetition of this possible stalemate of good vs. evil in the desert (could this represent a possible move toward amoralism within myself?? Ooooo, deep!).

I hear the rushing of wind above me and looking up, see a floorless hangar/warehouse type building coming right at me. The child in front of me snarls his lip and turns his back to me right as the building lands around me (thank god for the angels of Industrialism and their shield-buildings). This building had a row of dusty windows on each wall at the top; aside from that it was empty and had light pouring in through the windows, forming rays that were exaggerated by the dirt and dust on the panes. I heard a knocking sound on the far end of the building and as I approached, the ground around me cracked and shattered, it’s particles being thrown into the air in slow motion. I woke up.

I had a strange dream last night:

I am casually walking around an extremely ornate and beautiful room. Wood floors, gold leaf paint covering the lighting fixtures, and lion claw feet on the furniture. A grand chandelier hangs above, illuminating the room and filling it with an aura that exudes warmth and wealth. A handful of my friends are there and we are planning our trip back to the Dominican Republic, all of us very excited. Time flashes forward to the night of departure and I realize that I had been misinformed concerning the expenses for my trip. A check-in agent comes over to me with her laptop and says that I need $776 dollars if I wish to go tonight. I scoff and tell her that I have no more than $200 in my account and ask what my options are. She informs me that I may cancel my trip and I do so, quite upset about it. 

Brandon, Rob, and Justine board the plane by disappearing from the room. Around the room are people I have never met but cannot see clearly either. Their forms are not unlike a crowd of grey silhouettes, no personalities, murmuring amongst themselves more than speaking. Right then, at the foot of the bed in a fancy chair, an elderly woman fades into view. I am more curious than fearful and I approach her. Suddenly a brief, but loud rumbling fills the room and the lady’s eyes turn jet black. Her arms turn the same color and take on the qualities of elastic doused in liquid. Her arms drive into the ground, expanding and stretching as they rip through the wood; black tears streaming down her cheeks.

I am a pretty mellow lad and there isn’t too much that phases me, but as this happened I became a bit unsettled. She snaps her head in my direction and sneers at me. I look away. Her voice changes and has lost it’s feminine charm that it likely had before she turned “super demon” on me. She is insistent that I look at her, and so I do. She laughs, though, it has the echo of a hundred wails and it fills the room along with the rumbling. As the entire room shakes around me, I can feel an almost physical sensation around my head that she is responsible for emitting, trying to hold my gaze. I become extremely frightened at this point at look away toward the door. She grunts repeatedly and continues to speak to me; I cannot recall what it was she was talking about, though. Her arms continue to relentlessly rip into the floor as she tries to make me look into her eyes.

Unexpectedly, I look right at her, taking a deep breath and, leaning forward, let out what sounds like 10 lion’s roaring simultaneously, causing her to scream and wail back at me. The room begins to fill with shadows and rays of light, both of which seem to be jostling for supremacy. Everything freezes…nothing moves at all…and I wake up.

I had a strange dream last night:

I am in the midst of a great city by the water; it reminds me of the pictures I have seen of Venice, Italy, but the buildings are not as tall and there is a prevalent color scheme of light tan all throughout. I look into the water and hear laughter coming from behind me. I spin around and standing there, in a red dress, a dress that is alive and moves on its own, is the succubus that has been in my dream before. I do not know how to respond so I turn around, which infuriates her. She moans, causing me to look back at her, only to notice she has duplicated herself into another 4 . They all moan in different tones and then begin to wail, their pupils fully dilating as they do so. Their scarlet colored dresses begin to flutter and shake, scaring me. I take off running through the city, staying close to the water, and a long chase ensues. 

Eventually, having nowhere else to turn, I jump into the water, tossing my phobia of deep water to the wind. They do not come in after me, though one steps down into the water, slowly walking across it to get to me. I kick as hard as I can after submerging myself under the water and like a bolt of electricity, I surge through the water, leaving the city far behind. When I resurface, I am in the midst of the ocean. The city is far back on the horizon but I can still see the succubi easily. They’re growling and hissing at me, panting heavily and squirming.

I not only hear, but I feel a rumbling coming from deep within the ocean. The sound of thunder and roaring ensues, causing tidal waves to crash into one another all around me. I panic but have nowhere to go; my only focus is to keep my head above the water as long as I can. I look beneath me and a silhouette far larger than I can describe slowly moves to the surface. Within minutes, the mass rises from the deep. It is a bridge made of some kind of stone with metal plating in some areas–a metal tinted orange and pink. This is no ordinary bridge (aside from it coming out of the water like every other bridge does as a right of passage?), it makes the Golden Gate bridge appear like a tool shed next to the late twin towers. I look back and the succubi are still there; one of them hurls something in my direction–some kind of fireball. A tidal wave surges up, crashing into it and swallows it whole.

I look back at this bridge as it rises and grab hold onto a gargantuan bolt of some sort. I have the feeling that there is another 30 minutes to go before this structure stops rising from the water. Slowly, I make my way up the side of it, exhausted and losing strength in my arms. All I want is to rest. Another great roaring and rumbling sound builds and I look up to the sky and see a bright flash of light.

I wake up.