The beginning is a little fuzzier. I'm driving a semi down the main street of a small town. I'm doing an awful job of it, though, swerving all over the road. I need to get out of this monsterous vehicle. I manage to swerve into the gravel parking lot of a dive bar. I climb out of the semi, and go for a ride around town on a giraffe that looks like it has Elephantiasis.
I eventually come back around to the dive bar and run into two friends. They are both male, and seem like burn-out frat boys. We enter the bar, and it is some bizarre combination of Stagger Inn and the arcade in Alfonzo's from my youth. We get hammered and harass patrons.
Somewhere between riding my deformed giraffe and partying with these bros, my brain decides that I am playing the role of a celebrity in this dream. A Latina celebrity.
We continue our shenangians about town, and one of the bros decides to steal an SUV. He breaks in, the alarms go off, and he starts frantically pressing buttons. Suddenly, it's me, not him, that is trapped in the SUV. It starts going forward, ramming into a concrete wall, smashing the front of the car in, precariously close to where I'm sitting. I press some button, and it reverses.
I end up cruising the demonic SUV down the street, and the town is more of a city now. I'm swerving all over the road again, until I crash the SUV into the metal guard rail of a small bridge. I finally manage to escape the SUV, which is now totalled. There is a blond woman lying on the sidewalk next to where the SUV crashed. She is dressed in a classy cocktail dress and has major bling hanging from her ears and neck. Blood is running down the side of her face, matting her hair.
I slide her limp body into the water that is running underneath the small bridge. In the process, I somehow get straight pins in both of my feet. The pain is immense, as the pins are covering ever inch of the soles of my feet. They're the kind that have the little colorful balls on the blunt end. I realize that these pins will incriminate me.
Suddenly I'm in a large white room with tall ceilings, painfully plucking out straight pins, one by one. A friend is helping me by doing the other foot. The blond woman is there, and I'm attempting to be nonchalant. She seems to not know it was me that killed her (you see, she's corporeal, but not really alive and not undead... it's a dream, go with it).
Cut scene to me, outside, sitting next to a stone fire-pit. There are 3 corpses sitting in a circle around the fire-pit with me, like some macabre seance. The blond woman is among them. A man approaches, climbing dirt-clod steps to the area where the fire-pit sits. He is a chubby, balding Hispanic man in his 40's. He is someone important to me, a mentor of sorts. He sees the horrifying scene, and I realize, regretfully, that I have to kill him now. I look down to see that he is holding the hand of a little girl, no more than 3 years old.
Cut scene to the Hispanic man laying crossways over the fire-pit, as straight as a board. I contemplate the consequences of multiple homicide, and realize that I will have to change my identity. My sociopath of a brain is sorrowful. Not because of the deaths, but because I liked being a famous Hispanic beauty.
Cut scene one last time to me, walking across the fateful bridge from earlier in the dream, now with a short bleach blond bob, dressed to the nines with the elbow-length gloves and long cigarette holder to boot. I'm surrounded by an entourage of equally sophisticated looking people. I spot the not-alive-but-not-dead blond woman across the bridge. Her eyes are filled with despair. I smirk, with my head held high.
The weird thing is, although the dream is relatively twisted, it didn't feel that way.
I also dreamed that my renter moved back into my house overnight, but there aren't so many details to that dream. He was just in his computer chair, and turned around upon hearing me enter. I was seriously confused, and he just said "What's up?"
No comments:
Post a Comment