Weird Dreams...
I've found an old word document on my computer. It's one of five dreams I've remembered and wanted to write down. Enjoy...
Third Written Weird Dream
I’ll try to do this to the best of my memory…
There were several ‘scenes’ that took place in this dream. The first was a gun fight. It took place around a street corner, where there was a gun shop. Bullets were flying everywhere. The gun shop is really shot up, and I take refuge there. The ‘theme’ changes, and I have some strange disease and I’m living in this run down shop. I find out there are others like me, and they are taking refuge in this building. We are not supposed to go out into the city, so we are living in this little place, away from society. They have let us live here. I can see out the windows (now the building is the second floor, or elevated somehow, it wasn’t before) and look at the people in the street. I go through the back door of the building, and there is another room, shaped like a theater, where I see some of my friends. I am sad, because I don’t know how they all got this disease that secludes us from society, but now we have to live it out together. Then, I guess times passes, and we are allowed (at least some of us) to walk amongst the rest of society. Now, in the back of my mind, I’m walking through the streets of the 1920’s. It most likely isn’t how the 1920’s looked, but it definitely looks older in style. I walk to a newspaper shop, where I climb a set of stairs, and go out to a balcony, where there is another level of the city. Past a grove of trees, there is the ocean. For some reason, I think its Boston. And I well up with tears because I’m on the east coast. I can see downtown, with all the skyscrapers. I go back inside, where there’s a secretary who slides her water glass out of the way (‘you can’t have any water here’( because I have this disease)), but all I wanted was to see what time it is, so I look at the clock on the wall. But I can’t tell what time it is, because the hands are the same length). Then, I walk around town, and go to some building, where I begin training as a boxer. I don’t think I ever boxed, but I still trained to be a boxer (all I can remember is seeing myself doing these weird push ups). I think that’s all I can remember.
Third Written Weird Dream
I’ll try to do this to the best of my memory…
There were several ‘scenes’ that took place in this dream. The first was a gun fight. It took place around a street corner, where there was a gun shop. Bullets were flying everywhere. The gun shop is really shot up, and I take refuge there. The ‘theme’ changes, and I have some strange disease and I’m living in this run down shop. I find out there are others like me, and they are taking refuge in this building. We are not supposed to go out into the city, so we are living in this little place, away from society. They have let us live here. I can see out the windows (now the building is the second floor, or elevated somehow, it wasn’t before) and look at the people in the street. I go through the back door of the building, and there is another room, shaped like a theater, where I see some of my friends. I am sad, because I don’t know how they all got this disease that secludes us from society, but now we have to live it out together. Then, I guess times passes, and we are allowed (at least some of us) to walk amongst the rest of society. Now, in the back of my mind, I’m walking through the streets of the 1920’s. It most likely isn’t how the 1920’s looked, but it definitely looks older in style. I walk to a newspaper shop, where I climb a set of stairs, and go out to a balcony, where there is another level of the city. Past a grove of trees, there is the ocean. For some reason, I think its Boston. And I well up with tears because I’m on the east coast. I can see downtown, with all the skyscrapers. I go back inside, where there’s a secretary who slides her water glass out of the way (‘you can’t have any water here’( because I have this disease)), but all I wanted was to see what time it is, so I look at the clock on the wall. But I can’t tell what time it is, because the hands are the same length). Then, I walk around town, and go to some building, where I begin training as a boxer. I don’t think I ever boxed, but I still trained to be a boxer (all I can remember is seeing myself doing these weird push ups). I think that’s all I can remember.