A place for my thoughts and ideas, my creative outlet, a little piece of the web for me to call my own...yeah...right...
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| a bite of chocolat... ::home:: A place for my thoughts and ideas, my creative outlet, a little piece of the web for me to call my own...yeah...right... |
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Thursday, March 18, 2004 I've come to the realization that I have very morbid dreams. In nearly every dream I have, someone dies. Freshman year of high school, I had a dream in which someone shot me from down the hall of my dorm and I fell backwards, bleeding, into the foyer by the common room. Then I woke up. I had another dream in which I was riding along in a car, and I reached up to move my hat [I don't often wear hats] to find that there was a giant bleeding hole in my skull. And then I woke up. Not to mention that dream I wrote about in which I killed a girl from my school with a fencing sword, but, hey, I only killed her because she was serial-killing everyone else! A few weeks ago I had an extremely vivid dream in bold, bluish-gray tones, like the colors in the movie Underworld [only a lighter blue]. Most of my dreams tend to play in my head like movies, and this was no exception. Funny thing is, though, this one had real movie actors in it. I've never had a dream before with people in it that I did not know in real life. Anyway, it had Drew Barrymore and Denzel Washington [Why them? No idea...]. Denzel was a vengeful spirit who had witnessed Drew commit adultery while on vacation somewhere warm and sunny. He somehow got her and her lover to go to an abandoned warehouse [How cliche...], where he proceeded to maim, torture, and eventually kill them. He transformed them into these half-spirit creatures so that they could pass through objects like a ghost, except that they could still feel it rip through their flesh as if they were human. In this manner, he tortured them throughout my dream. Pleasant, eh? He eventually killed the lover by burning him. He killed Drew in a much more gruesome manner. He threw her down an elevator shaft above an elevator. She fell straight down with the chains and wires of the elevator ripping through her stomach as she fell. She hit and went straight through the elevator, eventually dying from the pain I assume. She was left hanging, caked on to the bottom of the elevator. After this, the "camera" [the viewpoint from which I watched the dream unfold] swooped down the rest of the elevator shaft and through the bottom floor. It flew over the crispy remains of the lover, still barely clinging to life and reaching out. And it slowed to a walking pace as it came upon a door. The door opened inward upon a bright, white, pristine waiting room, reminiscent of a doctor's office. An omniscient voice said, "Remember they don't tell you this when you die." And then I woke up. What that all meant I haven't the slightest idea? Last night I had another morbid dream. This one was very sad, though, and I woke up in tears. I can't really remember the details of this dream, but I do remember that two of my friends died, Jon and Craig. It seems like in the dream I went to sleep and woke up the next day, and I hadn't changed my clothes because I had been so distraught. And I remember being in such a daze that for a moment I couldn't even remember who had died. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a piece of paper with plans or a quote written on it, and it reminded me who had died. My eyes welled up and I awoke, teary-eyed. I think last nights dream was caused by a mix of things. That night I had gone out with Jes, Rob, Mat, Craig, and Andrew to an Ice Cat's hockey game in Worcester. My dad's company had sponsored that game, and so he had about 100 free tickets to give out. My family went, I invited the aforementioned crowd, and a bunch of my dad's coworkers and such were there. I hitched a ride with my mom and my sister and her little friends. My friends went in Andrew's car, and later that night my dad ranted about "crazy teenagers" and how "the number one possible cause of death for you guys right now is in a car accident." Maybe that's what caused me to dream of death. Also, after the game that night I watched The Laramie Project again on TV and cried; it always makes me cry. So maybe that's why I dreamed of death. Anyway, the game was fun. Craig dove over a row of seats to catch a free sweatshirt. Rob caught a t-shirt. My dad won an Applebee's gift certificate. And we all won free small French fries from McDonald's. They have a promotion that the crowd gets free fries if the Ice Cats score 4 or more goals in a game. And the tickets were free. Schweet. Oh, Happy Belated St. Patrick's Day. posted by Shannon | 4:42 PM |
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