Thursday, January 3, 2013

Triple A

A three-part dream sequence had while on vacation
in Mexico, Christmas Day, 2012...

(This is a long post, just sayin'.)

Dream One: Archenemy on the Move

This dream takes place in my hometown, on a street that shares a hardware store and a Hispanic-oriented supermarket. 

I was driving past the supermarket in a maroon sedan (maroon?) with my youngest brother in the passengers seat. I could see all the way down the road to the railroad crossing on what was a cloudy day, uniformly grey. 

As I drove past the hardware store, out came The Archenemy on the street, clad in a sand-coloured shirt and khaki pants. His hair stuck to his forehead, his eyes filled with contempt so that his irises were hidden. 

I saw him come at me from the left, but I did not stop the car. I slowed as he began to match my speed, maybe 10, 15 miles per hour, marching ahead of me. He had both arms close to his side, holding something in his left hand. He raised his left hand, revealing a black handgun. He stopped 20 feet ahead of me, and I continued a bit more before I stopped, draping my arm across my brother's chest.

After I stopped the car, I got out and the scene changed. We were now in a shopping center parking lot, standing in front of a store. 

The sky was now matched The Archenemy's shirt: sand-colored, still cloudy. The wind blew a little as the sodium-vapor lamps shone down on us. 

I yelled at him, "Drop the gun,...! Drop the gun!"

He didn't reply. He just stood there, breathing loudly, huffing. He raised his gun again and I backed off a little. Tears began to fall out of anger and frustration as I looked at him.

I yelled at him again, "Drop the gun,...! Drop it!"
Again, he kept still. He continued his heavy breathing.

I then did the dumbest thing possible.

As he stood there, I ran towards him. As I reached him, I put my arms around him and pushed him down to the ground. He struggled underneath me, wriggling furiously as the police came him. 

I remember hearing him scream, "Fuck you!" as he was dragged away, crying and still wriggling.

Dream Two: A.V. Club

I found myself in a dark classroom wearing my windbreaker, staring at a computer monitor showing photographs of a group of people, myself included. There were three guys and two girls. We were standing in front of a pillar, outside of what could have either been a club or restaurant. As I continued the slideshow, there was a video recording. While it played, I figured: "I'm probably the one holding the camera." As the rain fell, I came out from behind one of the guys, trying to get out of it.

Dream Three: Ambassador Rocky Carroll & The Airport Club

Now outside the club/restaurant, the girls and us guys were ushered into the building. The inside of the club was clad with oak, the walls, stairs, and tables. 

I was taken by a U.S. ambassador that resembled Rocky Carroll to a bar area, talking up foreign policy. As we neared a case of cold wine glasses, I said, "Thank God. Praise Jesus. Hallelujah!"

The ambassador dropped the glass he was carrying and then followed to fill my cold glass with milk. He began to lecture: "Don't talk about my Lord and Savior that way." He continued on as I drank my milk. After the lecture, the Ambassador led the group through a fancy restaurant. 

Now dressed in Mariachi charro suits, we walked through with our instruments on our backs. The walls were bathed in a blue color, each table and booth having a lit candle. The people were being served by flight attendants (in this case, United Airlines attendants) wearing blue dresses, which were see-through by the way. I mean, they held together, but you could see what the attendants were wearing underneath. 

As the group turned a corner, I made eye-contact with someone. That person looked familiar: Nick.*

We left the restaurant and boarded a plane. 

(In Mexico, several hours later...)

Standing outside of a home at dusk, an insect landed on me. It had a long stinger and as it tried to fly away, the stinger fell off. I wasn't stung, but the part of the stinger that attaches to the insect began to eat away at my skin, like acid. The area that it had touched turned a gangrene-yellow, then turning into actual gangrene. 

I turned to someone and screamed, "Look!" The skin had rotted through and now flesh was visible. It was a pink color, not bleeding. As I turned my left forearm, a slug fell out a the cavity. It slowly fell out via a thick stream of green slime. 

Looking at the cavity it had left, I screamed, "Oh my God, I'm disgusting!"


* Yeah, I know. Mr. Maas... I have no idea where he came from.