I was running down a crowded street, surrounded by a dozens of other people, screaming and running in every direction. It was pure chaos. Continue reading “Dream Journal 6/17/18 | Hiding On A Farm”
I had just started a new job at a cookie shop, and I showed up for my first day of training. Continue reading “Dream Journal 6/7/18 | Cookie Shop”
I was in a large, fancy dining room, sitting across the table from Ariana Grande, circa her red-headed days on Victorious. Continue reading “Dream Journal 6/2/18 | An Ariana Christmas”
I was sitting at my kitchen table with my son, as we dug into two, large bowls of cereal. I looked up, and saw water dripping from my ceiling, in the same place we had experienced a leak the first night we moved in, three years ago. Continue reading “Dream Journal 8/6/17 | Bad Neighbor”
We helped the farmer scoop up the hens, but he kept angrily criticizing us, saying that we weren’t holding the chickens properly, and trying to readjust our arms. We ended up dropping the chickens.
I was walking down a winding, empty road, lined with green grass and trees. Beside me was a young woman, about the same age as me. We were both dressed for a day at the beach, wearing bathing suits, loose summer dresses, flip-flops, and large totes. We walked and chatted excitedly as we strolled along, talking about the weather, and the green fields, and our excitement over getting to swim finally.
The sound of footsteps from behind us made us stop walking, and we turned to see a tall, chubby farmer, who was carrying two hens. He greeted us, and told us he was walking to the campground just up the road. Apparently, that’s where we were headed as well, and he smiled and said he’d see us there. His pace sped up, and before we knew it, he had walked far enough ahead of us to be out of sight. A few moments later, we could hear the frantic sounds of chickens, and ran around a bend in the road, where we spotted the same farmer, chasing three hens in circles.
We helped the farmer scoop up the hens, but he kept angrily criticizing us, saying that we weren’t holding the chickens properly, and trying to readjust our arms. We ended up dropping the chickens. Then, we had to chase them up the road, until we reached the campground. There were two dogs fighting on the side of the road, and they stopped momentarily to chase after the chickens. My friend and I tried to catch the dogs, but the farmer kept yelling at us to catch the chickens, so we stopped, and just stood there watching the chaos, unsure of what to do.
A young girl ran up to us, bawling her eyes out, and told us that we had lost her chihuahua. I told her I hadn’t seen her chihuahua, but just then, a small, white animal (which was definitely NOT a chihuahua, it looked more like a guinea pig), ran through our legs, and under some steps nearby. I asked the little girl if that was her dog, and she punched my friend in the arm, and ran away.
The farmer was still yelling at us about his chickens, which had completely disappeared, along with the two dogs.
And then I woke up.
As they shoved me into the back of the cruiser, the others moved to the lawn, and started shouting and protesting my arrest, but the police did not care.
I was waiting backstage, holding my clarinet, getting ready to go out on stage to perform with people from my childhood and high school years. I recognized several people from high school, some from middle school, and some from district music festivals, even though we were all adults, and I hadn’t seen any of them in eight or more years. Continue reading “Dream Journal 7/16/16 | Murder At A Concert”
It was nighttime. Kyle and I were outside, on the deck of a large duplex, presumably ours, sitting in wooden Adirondack chairs, talking. A young girl, probably 7 or 8 years old, walked up to the stairs to the deck and started kicking and shaking the wooden rails violently. Kyle stood up and yelled at her to stop, and she ran into the duplex next door. Several minutes passed, and we decided to go back inside. We shut off the lights and climbed into bed, but were immediately disturbed by loud pounding on our door.
By the time we got to the door, the door had been broken open, and a large group of people were pushing into the living room. The woman in front was our neighbor (yes, our real neighbor that I always complain about), and she demanded to know what we did to her daughter, who was at home crying. We told her that she was vandalizing our property, and we yelled for her to stop, and that was it. She claimed that her daughter came home covered in bruises, and I laughed and told her that bruises didn’t form in the span of 5 minutes. She got so angry that she turned red, and ordered the people behind her to tear apart our living room.
Kyle and I stepped in front of them, and I shoved another woman who tried to push by me. She grabbed my shoulders and tried to move me, and I punched her in the face, causing her to stumble backwards, screaming. The rest of the group, except for my neighbor, ran from our apartment, while she stood there fuming. I picked up a large vase from the end table nearby, and threw it at her head. She ducked, and ran out the door.
We woke up after falling asleep on the couch, and Liam was standing in the living room, pointing at one of the windows. I looked up and saw that all of our windows had been broken, and there was glass everywhere. I picked up Liam and Kyle got on the phone with the police. I went next door, still holding Liam, and kicked the door down. I had a large torch in my hand, and tossed it onto the large sectional in the middle of the room. I could hear my neighbor screaming from the back of the apartment, and I picked up another torch, and threw it into the kitchen, which went up in flames immediately.
I calmly walked out, and Kyle was waiting for me by the car, carrying Liam’s favorite Froggy stuffed animal, as well as my diaper bag. We left the property, and Kyle asked where I wanted to have breakfast. I told him Steak ‘n Shake, and we headed that way. I could see a massive mushroom cloud of smoke behind us where the apartment was, and I just laughed.
I ordered a taco salad at Steak ‘n Shake, and a milkshake, which was a terrifyingly bright, neon purple color, but seemed delicious.
Then I woke up.