AzureAngel
Love is Life
- Joined
- Mar 31, 2002
- Posts
- 2,212
So, I figured I'd sleep for awhile. Three dreams.
In the first dream, I dreamt that I wasn't actually asleep and someone came into the room. They were talking to me about something while I lied there under the covers, and out of the blue they placed their elbow just beneath the back of my neck to playfully pin me down. I couldn't feel it.
Then, I actually woke up, but I couldn't tell. I thought the guy was still there and I was still pinned. It took me about a minute to piece together that I had been dreaming.
In the second dream, the same guy entered the room again and started talking to me. They were laughing hysterically because I could hardly form a word in my sleepy drunkiosity. What's more is that I was aware of it and couldn't help it. After a brief while, they began stealing my stuff.
When I woke up, I threw back the covers as if I were a superhero and they my cape, and looked around the room. Again, it took me about a minute to realize that this was, in fact, not a dream anymore.
The third dream was way too intricate. This will be random. I was at home, cooking some sort of food. It was cheesy, this I know, shaped similarly to a pot pie and it had a foil base beneath it. I went into the room my mother was in, which was a combination of a store and a bedroom. She was lying in bed, reading, as she usually is. On the wall, there was this Blue Bible (Called the Cerulean Bible...). I took it down, and it was a Bible that made fun of the Bible in a playful way. Like, "Taking words from the first five verses of Daniel, you can make this phrase:..." and it was some horribly funny comment. The book was filled with this stuff. As well as connect-the-dots puzzles with like... four dots that weren't already filled in.
Maybe I'm warped, but I thought the whole thing was a riot. Mother did not. However, sitting in a chair close to the bed was some musically-inclined woman who had, apparently, written this version of the Bible. I listened to her praddle on for awhile about her family history and why this was oh so important - eventually, I went back out to the kitchen to check on my food. From the top-right corner and covering a full third of the oven door was a bubbling, crusty, burnt mass of cheese. I freaked out and opened the oven to find that, somehow, the foil base to my food was now directly in the CENTER of the food and the foil was on fire.
First, I panicked, knocking the 5" wide section of countertop between the oven and the hallway down. Then, I did the logical thing and jammed my head down and almost into the oven and blew out the fire. Crisis averted.
Right here there's a blur in the dream. In the midst of this blur, mother goes on one of her "I need better drugs" rampages and everyone else starts cooking on every part of the oven. I know this came from an infomercial I saw the other night about some sort of cooking pan that cooks with steam... you can have two meals going at once! Well, there were like 4 meals going on the top of this oven. I only remember the two or three nasty-looking steaks - one of which I poured BBQ sauce on for no apparent reason, since it wasn't mine and I wasn't asked.
Enter Michelle. She had returned from France and wanted to see me, first thing. Staying only for five minutes, she sat around while I tried to fix the section of counter/cabinet that I had bowled over in my earlier frenzy. I wouldn't have bothered, but the rampage of mother was not a wise thing to just ignore. Michelle got up to leave and headed to the door. I didn't know what to say. Between the panic of earlier, the psychosis of mother and Michelle's return, my emotional eqilibrium was only a memory. She left and I hadn't uttered a word.
That's when mother decided to point out that I hadn't said anything to Michelle. I threw down what progress I had made with the counter, opened my mouth and started the first half of a scathing sentence before my mind caught up to the intent of my mouth and stopped it dead. Beyond that? Pretty much just woke up.
Yeah, that one might help to have some background explanation, but I've typed enough. And no, it wasn't written perfectly to hold the attention of an audience. I just woke up and felt like typing it down somewhere.
Oh. And sorry ahead of time, Hamlet.
In the first dream, I dreamt that I wasn't actually asleep and someone came into the room. They were talking to me about something while I lied there under the covers, and out of the blue they placed their elbow just beneath the back of my neck to playfully pin me down. I couldn't feel it.
Then, I actually woke up, but I couldn't tell. I thought the guy was still there and I was still pinned. It took me about a minute to piece together that I had been dreaming.
In the second dream, the same guy entered the room again and started talking to me. They were laughing hysterically because I could hardly form a word in my sleepy drunkiosity. What's more is that I was aware of it and couldn't help it. After a brief while, they began stealing my stuff.
When I woke up, I threw back the covers as if I were a superhero and they my cape, and looked around the room. Again, it took me about a minute to realize that this was, in fact, not a dream anymore.
The third dream was way too intricate. This will be random. I was at home, cooking some sort of food. It was cheesy, this I know, shaped similarly to a pot pie and it had a foil base beneath it. I went into the room my mother was in, which was a combination of a store and a bedroom. She was lying in bed, reading, as she usually is. On the wall, there was this Blue Bible (Called the Cerulean Bible...). I took it down, and it was a Bible that made fun of the Bible in a playful way. Like, "Taking words from the first five verses of Daniel, you can make this phrase:..." and it was some horribly funny comment. The book was filled with this stuff. As well as connect-the-dots puzzles with like... four dots that weren't already filled in.
Maybe I'm warped, but I thought the whole thing was a riot. Mother did not. However, sitting in a chair close to the bed was some musically-inclined woman who had, apparently, written this version of the Bible. I listened to her praddle on for awhile about her family history and why this was oh so important - eventually, I went back out to the kitchen to check on my food. From the top-right corner and covering a full third of the oven door was a bubbling, crusty, burnt mass of cheese. I freaked out and opened the oven to find that, somehow, the foil base to my food was now directly in the CENTER of the food and the foil was on fire.
First, I panicked, knocking the 5" wide section of countertop between the oven and the hallway down. Then, I did the logical thing and jammed my head down and almost into the oven and blew out the fire. Crisis averted.
Right here there's a blur in the dream. In the midst of this blur, mother goes on one of her "I need better drugs" rampages and everyone else starts cooking on every part of the oven. I know this came from an infomercial I saw the other night about some sort of cooking pan that cooks with steam... you can have two meals going at once! Well, there were like 4 meals going on the top of this oven. I only remember the two or three nasty-looking steaks - one of which I poured BBQ sauce on for no apparent reason, since it wasn't mine and I wasn't asked.
Enter Michelle. She had returned from France and wanted to see me, first thing. Staying only for five minutes, she sat around while I tried to fix the section of counter/cabinet that I had bowled over in my earlier frenzy. I wouldn't have bothered, but the rampage of mother was not a wise thing to just ignore. Michelle got up to leave and headed to the door. I didn't know what to say. Between the panic of earlier, the psychosis of mother and Michelle's return, my emotional eqilibrium was only a memory. She left and I hadn't uttered a word.
That's when mother decided to point out that I hadn't said anything to Michelle. I threw down what progress I had made with the counter, opened my mouth and started the first half of a scathing sentence before my mind caught up to the intent of my mouth and stopped it dead. Beyond that? Pretty much just woke up.
Yeah, that one might help to have some background explanation, but I've typed enough. And no, it wasn't written perfectly to hold the attention of an audience. I just woke up and felt like typing it down somewhere.
Oh. And sorry ahead of time, Hamlet.