Sunday, May 31, 2015

Dream 12. Friends.

It started with high school, or college. I'm not sure which it was, it was only the friends in between classes and after school that I saw. He was like my sidekick (much like one of my actual friends in high school), we would sit by windows and judge people walking by and talk about dreams and ideas. Comfortable and familiar. We would walk to Subway a lot. This was apparently our hangout spot away from school, but it looked more like a Denny's. And more judging would ensue.

I had promised my aunt that I would pick up my Nanny (who in real life, died a few years ago) from the airport the morning after next. I asked my friend to go with me and he agrees. The airport is hours away, so it will be a fun road trip. We would be like Thelma and Louise.

I realize the next morning that I have a class the morning I'm supposed to go to the airport. I speak to the teacher about this (my teacher was the Prof. Walsh character from Buffy) and was told that if I skipped class and missed the exam the next morning, I fail her class. I asked to be excused to make a quick emergency phone call and she let me. I called my mom, distraught over my dilemma. I wanted to take this trip to the airport with my friend, I didn't want to let my Nanny and my aunt down, I didn't want to fail my class. She said that Nanny could wait at the airport for a few hours until I could get there. Don't worry. My mother can calm me down even in my dreams.

I return to class and watch in a growing horror as students do bizarre presentations with music, brightly colored paper, and interpretive dance. I realize that not only did I NOT I have a presentation ready, I had no idea what this class was supposed to be about.

My friend and I went to a movie theater after school, and it was crowded beyond belief. Swarms of people were crushing us trying to get in. I don't recall even seeing the movie, just the mass of bodies squeezing to get out afterwards. There was a holographic woman thanking us and waving at the exit, reminding us to keep the theater clean and to thank a veteran,  then we all spilled out into the mall.

We left and sat out by a tree, and he asked me to go to Subway with him after we go to the airport. For some reason, this was different than just walking to Subway as friends, this was a date. There was a subtle distinction in how he said it and looked at me. Yeah, it made more sense in the dream. Of course.  As does everything. I walked home by myself, in a daze, through a war torn Bridgewater.

Sunday, March 8, 2015

Dream 11. No Fun With Jim Morrison

I was someone else, a woman in my twenties. I was in a relationship with Jim Morrison. It was present day, but he wasn't old. But older than 27. Maybe 40ish. And he was a raging asshole. Beautiful, rich, incredibly cool, but a real shady jerk.

He was into some sort of illegal financial scheme with two men, stuffy lawyer types, nervous guys, with briefcases and boring names. I didn't know the details, but they were having a meeting in his house, which was this big mansion. I walked in after the meeting, after Jim had went out and the two men should have been gone as well. One of the men was still in the room, looking through Jim's things, taking papers and stuffing them into bags. When he saw that I had caught him, he asked me for help. He told me that Jim was doing things that were dangerous and illegal and that he needed to be turned in. I just needed to keep quiet and let this man take all the evidence to the police. So I did. I let him take everything he needed, and promised not to tell Jim. I went to another room to hide until everything blew over, because I knew Jim would be terrible when he returned.

Jim came home after the man left. The room the meeting had been held in was in disarray, with all the file cabinets and drawers hanging open and papers everywhere. Jim walked in and became enraged. He had been drinking heavily. I sneaked out the front door and ran to my car, then realized I had left my car keys somewhere in the house. When I went back in, Jim heard me. He called for me to come upstairs, so I did.

He was drunk and angry with me. I was more interested in covering my own ass than helping the lawyer man. I told him that the lawyer guy was up there going over papers. I told him that I had no idea what sort of work the man did, so I didn't know what he was doing was wrong. No, I didn't help the man. I just thought it was business as usual. No, that man never told me anything, just took some papers with him for some unknown reason.

He believed it or he didn't, I couldn't tell, but he backhanded me and I fell into some boxes in the corner. I was terrified.

That is all.