Here we go.
I dreamt that I was living with Kyle and Kody Heffelfinger in a house just a bit larger than the one they have in real life in a subdivision just a bit more vast than real life. The atmosphere was an eternal twilight no matter what time of day it was supposed to be.
At the start of the dream, it was Saturday night and I was packing my things because I was going to move into this large dormitory that also housed a huge mega church. Kody told me he wanted to play in the community Start Wars event before I left, so we went and got our lightsabers and ran out into the street. Many other subdivision dwellers were out on the street with their lightsabers, pretending to have an epic battle. Some were throwing Nerf debris acting as if they had the Force. Kody and I went on a rampage, destroying any other lightsaber wielder in our path.
After about an hour of this, Kyle drove through the street that was supposed to be blocked off and told me and Kody that we needed to go home so we could eat dinner (pizza). We obeyed.
I went to sleep after dinner and the next morning took my things to the dormitory/church. I wandered about looking for a room that suited me. Finally, on the second highest floor, I found this room with an extremely high ceiling and an unnecessarily huge bunkbed. It was perfect. I asked the leader of the establishment, who happened to be my college friend Ashley Miller, if I could have the room, and she said it was certainly available. I set my bags down and crawled into the bed to take a little nap.
Soon after that church began, so I went down into the sanctuary. It was dark and seemed to be the size of a stadium. When the pastor took the stage, I recognized him (not from real life but from the dream world) to be a terrible televangelist who seemed to be all about money and fancy possessions. He owned several nice cars, a huge house, a helicopter, a jet, etc. He preached some bogus sermon about how it is God's will that we have plenty.
I couldn't stand it. After the sermon, I went up to Ashley's office and asked her how she could put up with such garbage. Then the preacher himself walked in. I believe his name was Chris. He was wearing a pin stripped suit and had gelled black hair. He then began starting to laugh at my complaints and proceeded to mock me. Then I became furious and started shouting at him, accusing him of being a "false prophet" and "disturbingly and filthily greedy" and more. I was yelling at a volume that I have never yelled at in my life. The room became quiet when I finished. Then Chris asked, "This man is living here?" as he walked out of the room arrogantly.
I turned to Ashley for her support, but she looked disappointed in me. Had I been too harsh?
I went back to my room only to find that Chris had leased it to a young college-aged gal. I was trying to get my things, but she had a ton of friends and family in her room for a "house-warming party" so it was difficult to get around. I grabbed only my backpack and found a room on a lower floor.
This room was terribly tiny and I had to share it with six other people. It smelled like sardines had been sitting inside of a catfish smothered in year-old gravy. I began working on something on my laptop computer, but then I decided that I wanted to write a note to Chris apologizing for my harsh tone, but still showing concern for his stance on wealth. However, I needed paper, so I went to my old room to try to find my other bag which contained my notebook.
I finally made my way through the crowd and grabbed my duffel bag. I pulled out my notebook and pen and began writing the letter right there amidst the chaos. Another church service was soon about to start, and I discovered that the room I was in also doubled as a greeting room for members of the church, so writing proved to be difficult. Chris was actually standing just a few feet from me, making comments about me to some of the others there. Somebody bumped me, causing my papers to fly out of my notebook. I started gathering them when Chris yelled at me, accusing of taking things that weren't mine. "This homeless-looking guy is trying to steal from you people!"
He grabbed a piece of paper that had a poem of mine written on it and tried to give it to some woman as if it were hers and not mine. I tried taking it back, but he kept pulling it away from me like I was a cat and the paper was a string. The woman then took the poem and handed it back to me. Finally a supporter!
I jumped ahead in time to some outdoor activity involving candles and balancing and teamwork. Chris was leading the activity, then, noticing that I was doing well, "accidentally" caused me to fall and break my candle stick. I was fed up with him, so I walked away proclaiming, "I'm done!" Chris proceeded to mock me and get all the other guys partaking in the activity to also make fun of me for being a quitter. I still wanted to write him that note, but he was making it so much harder for me to do.
Then I awoke.
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