24.12.08

Hey, Mister Sandman, come bring me a dream

    Okay.  Forgive me for what is inevitably going to be a long post.  I had the weirdest REM patterns last night.

    Let's begin with the most frightening one.  I literally woke with a start and had to talk myself down from tears and lesser break downs.

    So I was sitting in a big room that, from its height, suggested that it was stationed in a tree, and was entirely made up of windows.  There were long tables stationed all over the room with no regard to feng shui, and there were upwards of a hundred students around my age sitting at them.  One of them was my brother who was leaning over and talking to the girl sitting next to him, trying to explain to her the virtue of his music career and how it affects his philosophies on life.

    Somewhere in the middle of the room stood my Religion Prof.   I may or may not have spoken about him in past posts.  He passed out our final exams and began to proctor.  However, there was a slight hitch (as I saw it, anyway.  No one else seemed to notice...): he was proctoring our Music History final, not our Bib Lit final.  Not only that, but it was the worst put together final I had ever experienced.  I can't really explain how incomprehensible the order of the question was.

    Anyway, he began playing the listening examples.  I didn't notice it at the time, but they were all from past tests and I hadn't re-studied them this time around, which was obviously a problem.  But also, he gave us little to no time to turn the considerable amount pages required to navigate to the questions that dealt with the particular listening example.  And then it turned out that we didn't have the full three hours generally allotted to a final exam, though I'm not sure why.  There were several pages that were photo-copied out of the glossary from our textbook with the answers whited out, but I didn't have time to finish them, because by the time he finally finished with the insane number of examples, it was time to turn in the test.  I looked over at Dennis, and he did not seem concerned at all, but I was freaking out.  

    I woke up scheming ways to get to my laptop that was across the room and would require maneuvering around several sleeping family members in order to check my grades online, but, as I said, I was able to talk myself into the realization that it had all just been a terrible, terrible, cruel dream.

    When I finally got back to sleep, there was an intense segue into the next dream, which also took place during finals week.  I was talking to my RA, who was very upset about having to stay at school the whole week, and we were walking through our dorm, which more resembled my church in its size, its parking lot, and the existence of its escalators and moving walkways (CLARIFICATION: My church does not have moving walkways, but if it did, many people would not be surprised.).  But anyway, somehow I got to my room, and my friend Ben was there, and we started talking or watching a movie or ignoring each other completely (that part was a little vague) and there came a knock on the door.

    The two people who stood before me when I opened that door are the biggest mystery of the dream.  Generally, no matter how far a dream breaks from reality, my subconscious is somehow able to identify its parts (for instance my dorm was my dorm, even if there was nothing about it that resembled my dorm).  However, these too people were completely unknown to me, even though I felt like I should know them, and at the time I dreamt them, I was unsurprised to see them there.  

    Well, anyway, they had shotguns.

    So these dream-trespassers were angry at Ben and I for some reason, so they tried to shoot us, but I somehow incapacitated them and managed to wrest one of the guns from their hands.  Evidently, though, I had not forestalled our impending doom enough so that we could take our time in figuring out what to do next.  We ran down the halls, and somehow got split up, which was evidently a good thing, because I ended up in some large auditorium (that doesn't exist in the real dorm, by the way) with a gun, and the two people found me.  

    Just a summation of who had been shot by now: I and the two mystery people had, but that did not impede our movement at all.  Also, somewhere between the anti-climactic chase scene and our arrival at the place where some mass shindig was occurring, the mystery girl was rendered innocent, and when campus safety caught us with our shotguns (somehow the girl had gotten a hold of my gun, though she didn't want it and hadn't planned on using it) I fought almost physically with them over her lack of involvement.  Also, as they carted me away, I asked if I could make a quick trip to the basement to say good bye to Ben and explain to him what happened.  Needless to say, that was not allowed, but I was genuinely p-ed off.  My subconscious can get pretty uppity pretty fast.

   I had another weird dream after that one, but I forget what made it so weird.  All I can remember about it now was that I went to Meijer to buy a bath towel.  


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