Sunday, March 7, 2010

Dream #143 (March 7, 2010)

Today is my little brother's birthday.


Last night's dream made me feel miserable, but it was very interesting. At the very beginning of the dream, I was walking around a beautiful sunny beach at a corporate party of sorts. There were about thirty people there, but I had wandered about a mile away from everyone else. Next thing I knew, somebody chopped the back of my neck with a hatchet.

I hit the ground, blood flowing strongly from my neck, and I was sure I was going to die. My attacker must have thought the same thing, for she (she was a middle-aged blond woman; I too was middle-aged in my dream) snuck away as my eyes followed her feet quickly fleeing the scene. I then blacked out.

When I was revived, I was able to stand up and walk around. The muscles on my neck were visible to anyone who would dare look on upon my grotesque wound. I staggered back over to where the party was, but everyone had already went home, leaving me there alone. I desperately wanted to go to the hospital, but I had no vehicle.

By the way, the pain was quite severe, as one would image a deep hatchet wound would cause.

After I wandered for several minutes, I came across a house that looked quite familiar (by this time, the dream had become a mystery; I was the detective). It was large and pastel blue, and it seemed to move with the wind. I entered the house and searched the premises.

After sifting through my memories, I realized that a man had been murdered by a hatchet in the house, a fact I remembered from a newspaper article (cliche). As I searched the place, I found some incriminating pictures of the blond woman whom had previously tried to slay me. Suddenly, I was greeted by the police, and arrested for breaking and entering.

As I was riding in the back seat of the police car, begging to be taken to a hospital, I blacked out again.

When I awoke yet again, I found myself in prison. On the bright side, my parents had come to visit me. My father sat beside me, and I began to weep, claiming that I would surely die as the result of my wound.

This part is interesting. Several thoughts about death ran through my mind, and I realized that I was deeply afraid of it, almost as if it were running at me at full speed with a dangerous weapon. But I felt even more fear than that. I imagined myself no longer existing. To not exist has always been my biggest fear, and I have been lost in thought at the idea for many hours throughout my life. These thoughts all ran through my mind within my dream, and changed me throughout the rest of my dream.

I leaped forward in time about five years. I was running around my yard, still with a large gash in the back of my head. I was thankful to still be alive (I still felt the pain as strong as ever), but I could not get my mind off the fact that I was going to die young.

I again jumped into a different dream. This time, the wound was gone. However, I still felt the pain as strongly as before and, in my dream, thought to myself, "I must have hit my head last night while I was dreaming to have caused such an injury." This shows that I still had a memory of my other dream while not being aware of my unconsciousness.

Anyway, I was in a large, black convention center, and about a hundred people were gathered together for a special giveaway. After some lame prizes and other giveaways, my boss at summer camp, Carrie Badertscher, walked up onto the stage and held up a neon green shirt with the yellow outline of a female country singer on the front. It was hideous, but she was auctioning off a set of twenty of those exact shirts. For some reason, many people, including myself, bid for the shirt package. I even despised the country singer on the shirt (in my dream, for she does not exist in real life). I bid so high that I won the bid and bought the shirts.

I took the large box of them from Carrie, all the while asking myself why I had done such a foolish thing, and answering, "Carrie is dangerously persuasive."

Then I walked into the next room and played a sort of oversized arcade game in which I controlled a ghost that floated through levels in a very two-dimensional way. I broke the score record in the game.


Then I awoke.

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