Dream #4

I saw red,
I saw red,
One more sacred lover that I shot dead...

Dream #3

This one is quite a tale...

I was myself, downtown Chico. I was at a swing party with some friends, and with my old boss and mentor. Naturally, I dressed in the finest duds, a swingin' suit and some killer dancin shoes.

I was dancin with my friend Annie, and we were cuttin the rug like none other, until all of sudden she was too drunk and she started puking.

I helped her into the women's restroom, where I encountered several of my co-workers. Also, as soon as I entered the bathroom, everyone became like 14. They were all talking about their periods, and some of them were complaining about being late-bloomers and not getting theirs yet. Then, one of the girls started getting it right then, so I peaced the hell out, all like speed racer and shit.

I was all like, fuck a lot of that stupid swing dance party and shit, and, I'm over hanging out with those ridiculous peeps, so I started traipsing all over town, until eventually, after going through a forest full of fire breathing damsel devourers and evil little house gnomes roaming the surrounding areas, I came upon the Infinity building. This strange yet still completely odd place was infinitely tall, finitely black, and infinitely annoying, since it for some reason felt it had the right to just jut the fuck up out of nowhere right outside of town. But before I get more into the building, which, by the way, while covered with various orifices of completely arbitrary shapes at completely random times, completely and utterly lacks doors, let me discuss for a moment one of the inhabitants of the Infinity building:

For starters, he was this dude. He had a long pony tail coming out of the middle of his skull, but the rest of his head was shaved. He was, for lack of a better term, a serial killer. He loved - I mean he really adored completely - chainsaws. And he chain sawed the hell out of people. Hundreds of people. He had a sidekick of sorts, naturally, who was most definitely not human, because he was 2 and a half feet tall and he was sort of a cruel shade of greenish black in color. You can imagine the vibes that this guy put off. Also, one of his eyeballs was on a stalk, and he had wings of the more leathery variety, except they most definitely didn't work. Basically, he was hideous. This guy occupied the lower sections of the Infinity building, which brings us back to the story arc that I almost forgot about while I was talking about the horrid sidekick minion type guy.

As I was saying, I came upon the Infinity building. Oh wait - there's actually more to the interlude. So, the dude, that is, the one with the chainsaw fetish, not the one with the dysfunctional leather wings, repented of his murderous ways. He also happened to have a very advanced case of masochistic tendencies, which brings me to the pit. Inside of the Infinity building on the bottom floor is an infinity pit. It's really only 1000 feet deep, but when you're a human, and your standing on the edge of a 1000 foot hole in the ground, it doesn't matter whether it's infinitely deep or not, because it goes straight down, and you're really going to die if you fall in. I mean, the whole could be like 50 feet and you'd be screwed, which is beside the point. The point is that there's a big ass hole in the ground, and the dude with the fetish filled the hole with chainsaws. All... the way... to the top... with chainsaws. Actually they only came to four feet below the ledge, but is four feet out 1000 really a significant number? Probably not. Unless you're doing like a precision landing on an aircraft carrier and miss by four feet and die in a fiery wreck, which is what you get for participating in war anyways. BUT! I digress... Once the pit was full of chainsaws (almost), the man proceeded to throw himself into it over, and over, and over, and over, and over again as punishment for his crimes against humanity. Eventually, he was lacerated as hell, and figured he'd done enough penance after like 50 jumps, and so he strolled to the out of doors.

This is where we come back to me. As I get closer to the Infinity building, I see a group of people outside, who appear to be playing cards. I see such people as The Rev., the dude with the chainsaw fetish, and several other of my friends. Oh and the sidekick. He's just standing there observing. Probably helping the fetish-guy cheat, because the sidekick is also telepathic in a sense. He has no mouth, so he can't speak, but he communicates by broadcasting what appear to the receiver of the message as subtitles. The words just float across your field of view. Sort of like the words "Holy Fuckin Shit!" floated across my view as I came up to the table. Fetish guy turned to look behind me, and echoed, oddly enough, the exact same sentiments. Behind me stood the thing. If I knew what it was I'd name it, but I don't, so I'll describe it. First: Huge. Second: Blue. Third: It's face was split in two. Think Picasso, but to the 10th power. Fourth: Malicious. He never killed, but always harassed to the point of torture even. Like, for example, he would come up to you and just pull your hair, HARD, for ridiculously long periods of time. He did this to me, while I was halfway up the Infinity building.

"Why was I there?" you might ask. Well, Fetish guy led us up the building in an attempt to escape. The building, for some reason, instead of being given doors, was installed with a polymorphous exterior, that you could move around into steps and shelve-like installations which were to be used to climb up to various windows through which you could enter. We were trying to get to fetish-guy's window. I didn't make it. Neither did sidekick. Blue Picasso Ogre caught up to us and started totally pulling my hair, until I promised to cook him dinner. It so happens that Blue Picasso Ogre lived in the topmost region of the Infinity building (wrap your brain around that one, I dare you), which, instead of being floors and doors and staircases and so forth like one would expect from any reasonable building, this region actually consisted of a series of interconnected caverns in which the Ogre-thing dwelled.

Into the caverns we went, to the kitchen. Yes, the kitchen. Right smack dab in the middle of the cave network was a quite immaculate fully equipped modern kitchen, with all of the latest conveniences and appliances. I set to work acting like I was going to make dinner, when I had a moment of clarity - an epiphany if you will. The sidekick and the Ogre-thing were having a love-affair right under the nose of the fetish-guy, and they were secretly plotting his demise. They were over there, tickling the hell out of each other. At this point I was just about done with all of this nonsense, so I bolted for the window to the outside, and swan dived out of it. Bear in mind, that I was at the top of an infinitely tall building, and right about now I was falling at terminal velocity.

Luckily, I had noticed a stack of parachutes next to the window, and had grabbed one on the way out. I was free-falling, falling for miles for all I know. I pulled the string, the parachute opened, and then I woke up...

Dream #2

Imagine, if you will, the theme song to the Disney animated Robin Hood movie, playing in the background...

Robin Hood and Little John, runnin' through the forest, oo-duh-la-lee-oo-duh-la-lee, golly what a day

Except it's really not, but applies to the scene that's about to unfold.

I am myself, running through the forest, with my housemates, Brad, Chip, Nate, & Jessica, as well as Rustikoph Aquavarious, another friend. We are being pursued at a rapid clip by death eaters, all dressed in black, looking like KKK members from hell. We're trying to escape, and while I'm looking over my shoulder trying to see how close the death eaters are, the rest of my friends take a right where I take a left, and suddenly, I am alone.

My cell phone rings. I wasn't going to answer, but then I recognized the ring tone as that belonging to my secret love, Aragorn (from Lord of the Rings). I answer, and tell him about the terrible death eaters and he promises to come rescue me. Seconds later, he emerges behind me, dressed as a death eater, and whisks me away to safety.

We emerge in a clearing with a small lake, crystalline water, plush green grass all around, the sun emerging from behind the clouds that hang over the forest. We frolic down the gentle slope and crash into the water, eager to swim and cool off after our narrow escape. Once in the water, however, I notice that there are scores of children in the water as well. Little children, human in characteristic, except that they are all blue. They are the children of the lake, Aragorn explains, and while they are said to be harmless, I got nothing but threatening vibes as they played with us with their cheerful facade. I urged Aragorn to leave the lake with me, as I feared the power of the Lake Children.

Once out of the lake, I heard my friends barreling through the forest looking for me. I told Aragorn to fly, for we could not be seen together, or I would surely be heckled by my heathen housemates.

They arrived on the spot, and Rustikoph suggested that his forest home was near, and we could seek refuge there for the night. There we went.

His house was pretty cool. It had a sweet mountain view, and you could see dollops of mist all over the surrounding hills. There were tons of evergreens, and the cabin was rustic and comfortable.

Once we all got inside, most of my friends went into the kitchen and started playing a round of spin the 40, since Rustikoph's kitchen was well stocked with refreshing malt beverages just in case we ever got into this sort of situation.

I however, not into the make out party, wanted to check out the rest of the house. I was walking through the living room, in between an enormous plush and super-comfy couch and a beautiful, mosaic tile inlaid coffee table, admiring the mesmerizing stained-glass windows portraying mermaids scattered throughout the room, when Chip approached me, and said:

Oh! Shyla! So, do you have a boyfriend?

To which I replied:

God no!

Upon which he volunteered the following:

Oh! Ok then.

The evening continued into night. People were a little wasted. We were all sitting around watching Wild Zero, with Brad and Rustikoph repeatedly yelling "ACE! ROCK AND ROLL KNOWS NO BOUNDARIES!" When the phone rang, and I moved to answer it, and Chip, in a moment of chivalrous gallantry, shouted:

No! Shyla's MY girlfriend!

Imagine my confusion. I tried to explain to him that our conversation couldn't have equaled me being his girlfriend because he never asked me out. Things got hazy, I was NOT Chip's girlfriend (I was Aragorn's), and then I woke up...

The Dream Catalyst:

This dream was one recounted to me a while back, and the one that ended up sparking the idea of this whole project. The challenge with this dream is to see how well I can remember what I was told. Without further ado...

I was myself; I was in a house. Broken Glass House, to be specific. Two stories, large, old, drafty. I lived there with my roommates, but things were odd. Hauntings started. Things moved on their own, there were noises. General unpleasantries, really.

I began to surmise that we were not alone, that there were Others cohabiting this home with us. My roommates called this view inane, blamed the wind and such. Then I saw them.

I slept, and I woke, and when I woke, I could see them. The Others were many, and varied in form. There was a couple having a tea party on the ceiling. There was a little girl. There were individuals without form, more poltergeist than spirit. Then there was Her. She was 15 feet tall, she was blue, and she was a bird. She stalked around the outside of the house. Scowling, staring. She hated us. She wanted us to leave more than any one else. The worst part is, she had a face. Not a beak and little bead-eyes like a bird should, but she had the face of a woman. An angry, intensely purposeful woman.

My roommates began to see the others. One started firing a shotgun at them in an attempt to repel them. If I had had an obvious brick, that would have been the time to use it. As hostilities rose, so did the invasiveness of the bird woman. She found an open window, and made her presence know. She could stretch. She stretched her neck and flowed her face into the room, coming to a stop face to face with me, fifteen feet away from the window. She looked me in the eye with the full force of rail gun and communicated her loathing of us. I thought she would stare at me until I died, but really she was just misunderstood and wanted peace. She left. My roommates left. The Others stayed. And I awoke...

Dream #1

I killed Jesus.

I was a young woman, entrenched in the ruins of a war-torn building. On the other side of a pile of rubble was a soldier. Army. He was telling the Christ - who was standing not thirty feet away, looking at us with his signature look of compassion, not saying anything - that He had to die. I didn't want to kill this Jesus - he was harming no one, and doing nothing threatening, well, aside from the fact that he was wearing nothing but a loincloth in the year 2005. That's 2005 years after his supposed birth, mind.

The soldier, outfitted with an M16 as they tend to be, in lieu of shooting the Christ in the face, wanted to stone him to death. While I disagreed with this execution, the Christ had to die.

I killed Jesus.

Stoning is a terrible way to die...

I ran home. At some point on this trek to my home, I became a little boy. Upon reaching my house, I engaged in instant communication with my friend, another little boy, in some fashion that was in between telepathy and telephoning. At any rate, he wanted to see the dead Christ, and so back to the dead Christ I ran.

My friend wanted the Christ's blood, for reasons unknown. All I knew was that it was completely imperative that we have Jesus' blood. We dipped our hands in a pool of blood that had collected around the Christ-man's crushed face, and suddenly, the blood turned green, and turned our hands green with it. This was fascinating, and crucial. The boy rubbed the messianic globs of hemoglobin all over his face and himself, becoming green in the process. At this point it was clear that I needed to return home.

My home was not my own, but it was my home. It was two storied, with wood-paneled walls, and a floor-plan unfamiliar to me. I ran to my room. I had a sleeping bag, and two things surfaced in my mind:

1.) My sleeping bag needed to share in the partaking of the Christ-blood.
2.) My mother MUST NOT know about this wonderful blood-stuff that turned all it touched green.

I smeared the blood on the sleeping bag, enthralled and exhilarated at the fact that it turned from blue to green before my eyes. My mother poked her head in, and I threw my sleeping bag in the corner and put my hands behind my back so she wouldn't see. It turns out she could really care less about this new marvel I had discovered, since she had to take herself to court because of some legal troubles, and was far to concerned with that to worry about a child and his endeavors. She left, I became green, and I awoke...

I killed Jesus.