Monday, December 8, 2014
Thursday, December 4, 2014
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
Inside the Cathedral were tight wood pews which were designed in a way that only allowed kneeling or sitting. The pastor thanked everyone for coming and expressed his gratitude for the contributions of 10,000 artists that donated their time to work on a painting that we were not allowed to see. I was incensed that they would do such a thing and not share it with the public. The pastor then introduced the benefactors of the painting, the "Duncan family." I remember thinking that that they looked like they were from Eastern Europe. The last man introduced was a short man who was accompanied by my friend Connie (who had bright red hair and bright blue eyes for some reason). At his introduction I overheard some men complaining about him but couldn't understand what they were saying. After the service I followed the men down an alley way to find that they were waiting to assassinate the short man. Before I could get to them several shots were fired but the short man and Connie drove safely on.
This is when the dream got really bizarre. I was suddenly the short man everyone was looking for. They chased me into an old industrial park where I successfully hid under a pile of junk in an old junkyard. Several small drones searched for me but could not pinpoint my location. Once they left I jumped down into a small room lined with cinderblock walls. A furnace lay in the middle. A young boy climbed out of the furnace covered in ash. He turned to me and said, "Here. You belong in here." Frightened, I broke open the door only to find I was in a large disheveled warehouse. I hid behind some old cardboard boxes because I heard the warehouse doors start to open. Several men entered. I could hear them speaking but, again, could not understand what they were saying. I stood up to see them but could only see their silhouettes. A gunshot filled my ear. The dream ended. I woke up covered in sweat.
Monday, April 7, 2014
Friday, April 4, 2014
Last nights dream had me stop by a nearly empty grocery store where, to gain entry, you had to wear a bag on your head. They were all out of bags so I had to wear a box but it was torn open a bit. I looked like the homeless phantom of the opera.
On the way home my car's "need catalytic oil converter (I know that's made up)" light came on making the power steering on my car fail. Weeeee! Suddenly I was walking and blocks from the store. When I was half way there I realized that I never wrote down what was wrong with the car. I woke up irritable and frustrated.