Thursday, July 8th, 2010
Last night I dreamt that a family forced me to go hang gliding. I was terrified, and I told them I did not have the upper body strength to hang on to the hang glider. The parents ignored me and shoved me out into the air along with themselves and their son. I kept protesting that I could not hang on, until that I saw that neither could the son. He fell from his hang glider and started to plummet to Earth. The parents casually banked their own hang gliders, confident that they could catch their son before he hit the ground.
But they couldn't.
I landed and watched the inconsolable parents as they cradled the body of their son. And then I woke up.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Sane Man in a Crazy World
Wednesday, July 7th, 2010
Last night I dreamt that I was placed in a crooked insane asylum. I wasn't crazy, and neither were most of the other people who were trapped there. The sadistic doctors started torturing and killing the patients, and I knew it was only a matter of time before the same thing happened to me. After struggling fruitlessly to find a door or window that wasn't firmly locked, I finally found an unlocked door that led into the parking lot of my childhood church. As I walked out the door, my sister called me and I answered on the tiniest cell phone I had ever seen. I told her I was scared, and that I needed help, but that I thought everything would be okay. And then I took off.
I was running, faster and farther than I've ever been able to run. I knew they were after me, and that I had to get help. I finally found a police officer, and breathlessly, I explained the situation to him. As I was telling him about the torture and murder I had witnessed, I saw in the officer's eyes and I knew: my story sounded crazy, and the first thing he was going to do was take me back to the insane asylum. So I knew if I was going to get away, I was going to have to kill this cop.
And then I woke up.
Last night I dreamt that I was placed in a crooked insane asylum. I wasn't crazy, and neither were most of the other people who were trapped there. The sadistic doctors started torturing and killing the patients, and I knew it was only a matter of time before the same thing happened to me. After struggling fruitlessly to find a door or window that wasn't firmly locked, I finally found an unlocked door that led into the parking lot of my childhood church. As I walked out the door, my sister called me and I answered on the tiniest cell phone I had ever seen. I told her I was scared, and that I needed help, but that I thought everything would be okay. And then I took off.
I was running, faster and farther than I've ever been able to run. I knew they were after me, and that I had to get help. I finally found a police officer, and breathlessly, I explained the situation to him. As I was telling him about the torture and murder I had witnessed, I saw in the officer's eyes and I knew: my story sounded crazy, and the first thing he was going to do was take me back to the insane asylum. So I knew if I was going to get away, I was going to have to kill this cop.
And then I woke up.
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