Archive for the ‘Dream Journal’ Category

I have strange dreams almost every night, but last night I had one of most excellent quality.

My family and I were all in a foreign country, near some kind of mountainous coastal region not unlike Santa Barbara. We were on a road trip. My dad and I decided that it would be a good idea for us to each get Vespas. I got a bright red one. My dad ended up getting more of a bike attachment – he was riding his really nice mountain bike, but it had a shield on the front that made it look like a motorcycle. My mom and brothers and sisters in law were following us in the flying bus.

We were driving down this road when some bike cops started harassing us. I say harassing because they weren’t really cops, and you could tell. They weren’t trying to pull us over, they were trying to make us crash. I ended up getting the drop on one of them, though, and my dad made the other one crash. We told them to never mess with us again and we rode on, but then we realized that the rest of the family was too far back to know that they were fake cops. So we radioed back to them not to stop if the cops tried to pull them over.

The flying bus had to go off-road to avoid the dirty cops. It drove over a hill and we all thought it was going to crash, but it started flying off into the sunset, it’s shiny exterior reflecting the gold and purple light.


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You should know by now that I never make up my dreams. They just happen. Most of the time they’re unusual, so I only record the really, REALLY weird ones.

Last night, we had a winner.

I waited too long to record it, so I’ve lost some details. But I do remember that I was at a small coffee shop with a girl, and Coldplay was playing. It was a super casual show, though – friends and family only. Chris Martin came over and stood right by us. While he was talking with us, he was casually playing a new instrument they got for one of their songs – a water hose. That’s right, the new big thing with Coldplay was that all of their songs after Viva la Vida were recorded using only household garden instruments.

Then, in my dream, I woke up to find that I had been sleeping outside on a stone slab near the base of a house surrounded by snow. It was very cold. I knocked on the door of the house, and an Ex President of the United States (I think it was Reagan) answered the door. He told me that this was the Mt. Everest base camp, and I needed to climb to the top of the mountain, but that I could sleep on his stone slab whenever I wanted. I thanked him for his hospitality, and started walking towards the summit.

That’s when I was awakened by a phone call.

Tsk tsk! What would have happened if I had gotten to finish my dream? Would I have made it to the top? Would Coldplay have been waiting for me?

The world will never know.

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I know hell is usually a setting reserved for sequels number four or six, but I had this dream on the second run. Maybe it’s because my fever went up to 102.1 and it doesn’t seem to be dropping yet.

Anyway, this is a good one. If you know me, you know I’ve been looking for a job for about a month. Well, I just had this dream that I got a part time job as a shift lead in hell.

I swear to you, I am not making this up. It was my first day, and the guy who was showing me around was pretty normal except he had red skin and goat feet. He was pointing things out to me, like, “Basically, these levers control torturing people and lifting stuff, kind of like a crane.”

You guys, I know this sounds weird, but it was awesome. It wasn’t like a scary, realistic version of hell. It was more like the funny hell that Homer Simpson goes to where they force him to eat every donut in the world.

I couldn’t believe it when he pointed past me and said, “That stairway over there leads to heaven. It’s okay if people play on it, we just don’t actually let them get anywhere. If you push this button, the stairs go away and it turns into a ramp. It’s awesome.”

Man, I hate being sick, but it does have its perks.

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Fever Dream

In case you didn’t know, I’m sick. I took my temperature this morning and it read 100.6. Ugh. My head aches, and my whole body is sore, and I feel dizzy. But whatever.

The fun part about being sick is you get to sleep a lot. When you sleep, sometimes you dream, and when you’re sick, sometimes those dreams are really weird.

Take this one for example:

I dreamed that I was with a friend and we were going to get haircuts. So we went to this hole in the wall place that was supposed to be amazing. It was run by old men who were secretly masters of the hidden haircut arts, kind of like hidden kung fu masters, only with hair.

The place itself was really weird. Sometimes it was a small indoor place with bunk beds and barber’s chairs. Other times it was outdoors, right by the highway, and you could watch the big rigs go to and fro with cargo.

The old guys cut my friend’s hair, and in my dream I remember acting excited, but secretly thinking, That’s it? I could have done that. When it was my turn, the old guy assigned to me was Andy Griffith. He kept making a big deal about how we were going to cut my hair and was saying things like, “I think we’re going to typhoon the edges.”

I was more interested in the big rigs, though, and eventually decided I didn’t want my hair cut at all.

Now see, it’s worth it to be sick sometimes, right? It might not have been on the level of some of my other more Rambo-esque dreams, but it was still really cool.

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Brain Plants

Brain Plants

This is another one for the Dream Journal.

A couple of nights ago I had this dream that I was helping to lead a church trip down in Mexico. We were staying at what used to be an old school building. Things were normal during the day, but there were weird things going on after dark…¬†

At night, everyone would be rounded up and taken to the courtyard. We were just told to wait for a few minutes, and then we were allowed back inside. One night, I snuck back into the building to see what was going on. I found several convicts going through our rooms, looking for something.

One of the convicts spotted me and started to take me back outside when another convict stopped him. They explained to me that they were supposed to have gone to a normal prison, but their transport had been diverted to this location. The master of the complex was a psychotic dictator who would punish the prisoners by removing their brains while they were still alive and planting them in flower pots. The bodies would be thrown away, but the brains were still alive and would retain consciousness. The dictator would put plant seeds on top of the brains and let the plants grow. The roots would sink into the brain core and drive the person mad.

The prisoner then showed me several potted brain plants that the dictator had pruned into demeaning shapes. One brain had a pair of fern-like bunny ears growing out of it.

You guys, I swear. I have no idea where these dreams come from. I love them so much, though! Seriously, it’s one of my favorite things to wake up and be like, “WOAH. That was a strange dream.”

Thank God for REM sleep.

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