Monday, March 28, 2011

...I have serialized dreams...

I love sleep. There's nothing more to that really, sleeping is just awesome and super fun. But I don't really do it for the dreams, in fact, I don't dream that often. (At this point I'm sure all you smart people are plotting to write comments about how everyone dreams and that they just don't remember it when they wake up. But if I don't remember it happening, it didn't happen. That state of mind got me through most of college...) But the dreams that I do have are often quite bizarre...and not even in that riding a unicorn made of cocaine jumping over a double rainbow made of lava while William Shatner chases me naked kind of bizarre. In fact, most of my memorable dreams are, while ridiculous, quite grounded in reality (not that cocaine unicorns and lava rainbows AREN'T real...)

I'll give you an example of one of my most memorable dreams. (This happened years I'm filling in details as I go)

I "woke up" sitting in front of a computer in a classroom of some sort. There is a man in a black suit and black sunglasses at the board and I'm surrounded by people my age. Everyone looks confused as to where they are, and I realize that they were all probably knocked out like me and dragged here. Well it turns out that we're to take part in some secret government program and that we likely wouldn't survive. The monitor flickered to life and a contract popped up, which we were all forced to read. The thing was filled with a ton of "If I die, am horribly maimed, or die later as a result of injury sustained during this activity, I will not hold the government liable" kinds of things, followed by ominous hints that we were very likely going to die. At the bottom of said contract was one button that read "I agree". One person didn't agree, stood up and began protesting. Naturally the floor below his desk dropped out james bond trap door style and he was never seen again (in my dream). After that, pretty much everyone agreed, just to avoid dying right then and there.

After we all agreed, what followed was a series of test rooms, each booby-trapped with lethal traps designed to kill all of us. Punji spike pits, flamethrowers, ceiling panels that fell down and crushed people, you name it, it was there. Naturally, like any good movie hero, I led our group through the perils of each trial trying to make it through and ensure everyone survived. any good dramatic movie, each time we came across a new trial, one member of the group died. any good dramatic group leader, I would take each loss personally, shedding a single tear for the fallen as I forced us to continue forward, vowing that I would properly honor the dead when we all got out alive. Needless to say, I was the only survivor (I don't remember who the last one alive was, but considering how cliche this dream has been so far, chances are it was an incredibly beautiful woman who, over the course of our time in this government death trap, has fallen inexplicably in love with me. It's also very likely that she was hanging onto the edge of some bottomless drop and I had her by one hand as a large metal door was closing, a situation in which she would naturally valiantly sacrifice herself so that I could live and take down the government as revenge for taking her life etc....WOW that was a long side note...) I emerged from the death-obstacle course (deathstacle course?), bloodied and burned, but which point the dark-suited asshole from before pulled a dark bag over my head...and I woke up.

As far as dreams go, not all THAT strange really. In fact, it was incredibly cliche. Here's where it gets kind of weird though. A couple weeks later, I "awoke" in the exact same classroom, with the exact same computer in front of me and the exact same dark suited government son of a bitch in front of me. Again, this wouldn't be so strange except for the fact that I actually REMEMBERED that I had been there. So, with the swagger of a superstar rapper, I signed away my life for a second time and entered the deathstacle course (I'm sticking with that, deal with it). Of course, this time I knew EXACTLY what was going to happen, and I valiantly led my rag tag group of survivors into the fray. This time though, as the inexperienced blithering tards staggered after me, wailing and crying, I did not feel sad at those lost in the deathstacle course, I did not shed a tear. In fact, the fact that they died bothered me. Here I was with important insider information that could ensure that EVERYONE made it out alive, and people were going off, being stupid and dying like morons because they simply refused to listen to me. It was like something out of a bad video game. I was the hero (be it Master Chief or Soap McTavish or some other gritty soldier type) trying to lead my company of soldiers through a heavily conflicted combat zone and my troops were too busy herping and derping about to notice the live grenade that had just plopped amidst the lot of them like the worst kind of turd in a punchbowl. Needless to say I awoke feeling frustrated and upset that my imaginary compatriots would act in such a stupid manner.

Well as if this weren't bizarre enough for you, a couple weeks later, I "awoke" to find myself in that same room yet again. Now I'm sure at this point, you are probably rolling your eyes, dreading my having to tell the same goddamn story one more goddamn time. Well apparently you agreed with me at that very moment, because with the strongest of "wow fuck this shit" attitudes, I flipped my desk (computer and all), punched the government guy in the face and stormed out of the room (through a door that was inexplicably unlocked...I guess we were all just too stupid to try it the first time around). After that, I went and had a coffee and ended up having to steal a super expensive car to try and escape the government helicopters that were chasing after me.

...And that's what I learned today.

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