Thursday, November 13, 2008

My Two Dreams

I had a couple of weird dreams last night.

The first one I had was about a suicidal dog named Jamie. He wasn't just a dog. He could go back and forth between a brown scraggly dog and a person. He was really smart. He rigged a presidential election in the past. I am not going to tell you which one. It's not the one you think. He was thinking about doing it a second time and used a chip from his collar. I put the chip there because I thought it looked cool, since he was all smart and all, but I didn't know what it was for. I wasn't the smart one, Jamie was. However, Jamie felt bad for being such an evil person/dog and decided to kill himself to make the world a better place. So he started building a rocket powered kite, which he was going to use to fly off and crash somewhere. Then someone suggested that we just drive him out somewhere and run over him with the truck. I, of course, was against it. Even though he was an evil human/dog creature, I still loved him because he was my pet. I didn't want him to die. I told him that he could just use his smartyness (I told you I wasn't the smart one in this dream) for good instead. I woke up then, looked at theclock, realized that it was still too early to get up, and my own real life dog (named Snaps and cannot turn into a human and rig presidential elections) was still sleeping at my feet hopefully neither wanting to die or crafting elaborate plans for a kamikase rocket kite.

The second dream I had inolve a family that was not my own, but that's okay, because I wasn't me. I was some chubby kid with a buzz cut and twleve. I had a mom and dad (who weren't my parent's in real life) and a sister. (I don't have any real sisters and in the dream, she was about 16 or 17.) My sister was indestructible... and combustible; which isn't good especially mixed with a short temper. Anyway, she was fighting with dad again over something stupid again and her face was getting red again, so mom and I grabbed dad and pulled him out o the house. We got into the truck and started driving (it was a blue pickup) and then the house blew up. Dad wanted to go back, but we were scared and told him to keep driving. We looked back and Sister was coming after us in an El Camino. Burning debris was in the back her car. She was driving like she always did. CRAZY!
She chased us through town and ran us over the edge into the water. I think it was the ocean, but I'm not sure. She changed her mind and helped pull us out of the pickup. My parents were all happy that she saved us and acted like she didn't just blow up our house again. I wasn't so happy about it and stole off in a rowboat by myself to pout. The Water Ranger... Life guard in real life... started yelling at me about the mouse in the water. It wasn't an ordinary mouse, and I hadn't ever seen one of these mice before, btu I knew I didn't want to. My sister, anger spent, swam out to try and get it. For some reason, I didn't have an oar with me in the rowboat, but a pitchfork, which isn't very handy for rowing, but comes in useful in the happenstance of giant mice swiming near your boat. I stabbed the water a few times, but couldn't catch him. He escaped on land and ran off. I decided that I was going to catch him, mostly because I was angry at my sister for blowing up our house again and my parents for being okay with it. I finally found him and cornered him. I still had my pitchfork and approached him slowly. He was an odd mouse, not because he was the size of a cat, though he was. He was an odd mouse, not because he didn't have any fur, though he didn't. He was an odd mouse mostly because he didn't have any skin either, or blood, but his muscles were showing and the fibers were having problems sticking together when not constricted. Imagine you reach into a pot of water and pull up a handful of spaghetti. Kinda gross, huh? Well... I speared him, and as I picked him up on the end of the pitchfork, he screamed and thrashed and was no closer to dying than he had been a minute before. He was trying to get off, so I bonked him into the wall. It wasn't a hard bonk, but when I did, he got fluffy and cute. Once he regained his focus, he was skinless and mean again so I bonked him again... harder. He stayed cute longer because he was unfocused longer. Ths gave me an idea. I walked though town bonking him over and over until he was so cute and fluffy, I sold him to my worst enemy for $10. I felt pretty good about this until I heard my enemy scream because the cute fluffy mouse turned into the large skinless one and was terrorizing him like I thought he might. I woke up thinking that the one thing worse than having an enemy is treating him like one. I immediately reached for my Bible and read Matthew 5 where Jesus tells us to love our enemies. Can I repent for something I did in a dream when I wasn't even me in the dream? I did anyway.

No comments: