Weird Ass/Scary Dream
And you guys thought the rice monster was weird!
As for part 2 of my rant, I will get to that some day soon. I haven't been able to go off on it because of some of the obvious schedule problems at TR... but I had to write this dream I had last night down.
I used to document my dreams alot. I haven't done it in about three years, but this one was so vivid, scary, and downright weird that I felt I had to put it on paper. You guys into dream interpretation are gonna have a field day with this.
The dream starts out (well, it didn't start here, but this is where it started to pick up) with me and my family at my old house. This is something I've been dreaming about almost every night. Right now, in reality, the house is a skeleton. No furniture, no carpet, nothing. In the dream, all of it was back in there, and for some reason we were spending the night. I was in my old room that looks out over the drive way trying to sleep, when I hear a rustling outside. I look out the window... and some old dude is making out will all of my stuff in my car! And when I say all, I mean ALL! In one armload, he was carrying my CD's. my amp, my sub woofer, my CD decks and mixer, and 2 speakers! Just to give ya an idea of how big these things are, barely 1 item (excluding my huge ass CD case) you need 2 arms to carry! So, I decide I'm having none of this, and grab the family rifle (which has been in my family for 3 generations), a lever action Winchester magnum. I go to the window, coz I'm gonna plug this SOB for making off with my lively-hood, and the round in it was a dud. I throw the lever back an put another round in the chamber, line him up, and take the shot. There's a loud crack and he falls to the ice (it's winter for some reason) and all of my stuff goes falling everywhere. He stumbles back up to his feet though, and grabs more stuff and runs to the end of the drive way where his car is at. I say "hell no" to myself, and go to take another shot, but another dud. I then grab my clip fed semi-auto Mossberg 702 Plinkster .22 with a 4x scope attachment (http://www.mossbergintl.com/images/37044.gif) (which really is a pea shooter compared to the Winchester) and light up his car with him in it.
I didn't empty the clip into the car... but I stopped and had to take a breath. I wandered into the living room, really fucking feeling dread and misery, and my dad looks at me like "what happened?" and I told him I just killed someone. I was really wrecked... I never wanted to kill anyone, I just didn't want to get my stuff lifted. So, I'm feelin pretty wrecked when the front door swings open. The thief stumbles through the door, and to my horror, it is not some random old man like I thought... It is a good friend of mine from Ocean city. Sure enough, I did hit him a few times, but he is not dying (though bleeding pretty bad). I yelled at him "WTF WERE YOU DOING MAN!?!". He explained that he was trying to help me move... but for some reason I didn't believe him. In real life, of course I would, but in the dream for some reason, I had a gut feeling that he was really trying to lift my stuff. I remember my Dad carrying my brother's Mossberg 500 12/24 Bantam 12-Gauge Shotgun (http://i.walmart.com/i/p/00/01/58/13/52/0001581352132_215X215.jpg) and saying to my friend "You're lucky I didn't shoot ya with that!". I tell my dad to call 911, and I go for a drive to clear my head.
I'm out driving past Parkesburg when I notice some old high school buddies of mine on the side of the road... in Military combat garb. I pull over and ask them what's up and what's going on. They said things aren't looking good and everyone's on edge, and my friends definitely seem somber and unhappy. They're afraid the US is about to be invaded! I assumed by China, and thought this day couldn't get any worse. I say my goodbyes, and say "You're the Marines right?". He says yeah, and I say "Oorah". My closest buddy out of the group says it back and I leave... I don't even get a quarter mile down the road before I see planes in the air with colors I'd never seen before... I immediately know they're not ours, and they start dropping bombs. I pull my Jeep into a nearby hanger (that doesn't exist in this spot in real life), where there are a lot of people taking shelter. People are screaming, crying... I mean in the movies you are desensitized to scenes like this, but when you actually experience them (like I thought I was), it really really rattles your nerves.
After the bombing, I went to my grandfather's house just outside of Philly. For some reason, I had my brother's shotgun with me, and brought it into the house and told my grandfather to hold onto it. I went outside to talk to the locals to see if they had any idea what was going on. This whole time, I am absolutely scared shitless, but I'm trying to maintain my composure. One person (who really resembled my first girlfriend) said she thought it was the Afghanis. I was like "Huh! You kiddin'! They aren't able to do anything like this". I guess I also didn't take into consideration that the ruling government in Afghanistan right now are our allies. Almost immediately, we see blue and white helicopters appear, and I say to myself "Finally they are deploying some protection for us"... but something about the way they were flying alarmed me. As soon as one landed in the front yard next door, several soldiers wearing blue and white colors, and in stereotypical Iraqi militant garb poor out... only they look Caucasian rather than Middle Eastern! Immediately, they start opening fire, and I dash into the house, as I do, 2 of the soldiers take notice and start shooting directly at me. They miss, but the debris from the concrete around me splintering up from the bullets made me think I was, but I ignore it.
I get into the house, and my grandfather is sitting in the dinning room, looking completely in shock. I start screaming at him where the shotgun is, but he doesn't answer. I keep trying to get him to snap out of it, but he won't come to. I get this feeling that if he doesn't put up a fight, they won't kill him, so I'm forced to leave him, coz they DEFINITELY want me dead! I start to think here "Ya know, if I don't fight back and just give up, I might live". But then I tell myself "No! I'm not gonna bend over and let them control my life and tell me how to live and terrorize my life and take over my country!". I run up the stairs, and sneak out onto the deck (which we never use). For some reason, they are having trouble opening a locked sliding glass door downstairs to try and get into the house. I realize that these soldiers are people my age or just a bit younger, and they were definitely white. I try to sneak around them, but they notice me.
I jump off the second floor, but they immediately swing around the house and tackle me. I fight them off (about 5 of them), and wind up snapping a neck or two. Why I think I can fight like that is beyond me, coz I haven't been in a fight in 10 years. I thought I took care of everyone that was after me, but in a window above me, I see a soldier on a radio requesting reinforcements. I grab one of the guns from the dead soldiers and try to shoot at him, but the gun won't fire on him! I get a feeling that these weapons won't fire on their owners... so I dash. Within moments, there are half a dozen soldiers after me. I'm darting through back yards, hoping fences, ducking around sheds, all in hope of getting away, which I never thought I would. I was waiting to get tired, and they would catch up to me, and I'm as good as dead. However, I dash across the street, and there's someone else being chased. I decide to confuse the fuck out of everyone and run straight through the other group chasing after the other guy. I do, and it works.
Next thing I know, I'm in an apartment complex with this other guy that was being chased, just hiding out. We are discussing what happened when an old man holding a rifle walks in unexpectedly. We jump up, but then realize he's a friend. I ask him if he has any other weapons, and he hands me a shotgun that looks a lot like this: http://www.speedytoys.com/airsoft_guns/utgshotgun-pistolgrip.jpg I then ask him if he has any shells for it... and he hands me a tube of cookies! I repeat the question making sure he understands me... but I look down and realize its a Cookie Launcher gun!!!!!!!! I'm like "aw Jesus Christ", but just to see it, I put a cookie in the launcher and shot it. It made a pretty decent thud against the wall, even dented it a bit. I figured it was better than nothing, so I kept it.
Then I woke up.
Maybe I should have renamed this entry "I don't smoke crack".
I just had to write about ths coz this was one of the scariest dreams I had in long time. I thought the country really was being invaded... then it had the ultimate "WTF" ending.