Room 313, first thing Wednesday morning [Probably NFB since it's mostly in his head]
Peter woke up. This was not uncommon. He generally did so every morning. What was uncommon was the fact that he immediately grabbed a notebook and started to write down what he had dreamed about at Dr Pevensie's request.
2.1.05
I've had this dream a few times since leaving New York. In it, I'm just me. Not in my costume or anything. I'm just in my regular clothes. It's kind of like those dreams where you're flying, but this isn't quite that. I'm in Manhattan and I'm swinging - that's how I travel when I'm in my costume. I swing around on this adhesive rope stuff. It's like being in a roller coaster, but without the tracks or car. I can feel the gravity.
It is really the most amazing feeling. I'm going along one of my regular patrol routes, so I recognize all of the landmarks.
This dream rules.
Peter took a moment to consider that his writing was pretty rambley first thing in the morning. He didn't care, though. It was too early.
According to Dr Pevensie, he wasn't crazy. He found this mostly refreshing. A little troubling, too, because he now had to question her qualifications. After all, if a person who has spent the better part of the year wearing spandex and getting shot at isn't just a bit messed up in the head, he had to readjust his view of the world. He then thought briefly of some of the villains he had fought. Maybe sanity was more directly related to the fashion choices people made? After all, his costume was pretty damn cool. Some of the villains, on the other hand... Well, "lame" begins to describe it.
Oh, and it just maybe had something to do with whether or not the person was the shooter or the shootie. That was probably the real dividing line.
"Okay, it's too early to be thinking about sanity and violence," Peter said to himself as he got out of bed. "I have a class about violence to get ready for anyway."
2.1.05
I've had this dream a few times since leaving New York. In it, I'm just me. Not in my costume or anything. I'm just in my regular clothes. It's kind of like those dreams where you're flying, but this isn't quite that. I'm in Manhattan and I'm swinging - that's how I travel when I'm in my costume. I swing around on this adhesive rope stuff. It's like being in a roller coaster, but without the tracks or car. I can feel the gravity.
It is really the most amazing feeling. I'm going along one of my regular patrol routes, so I recognize all of the landmarks.
This dream rules.
Peter took a moment to consider that his writing was pretty rambley first thing in the morning. He didn't care, though. It was too early.
According to Dr Pevensie, he wasn't crazy. He found this mostly refreshing. A little troubling, too, because he now had to question her qualifications. After all, if a person who has spent the better part of the year wearing spandex and getting shot at isn't just a bit messed up in the head, he had to readjust his view of the world. He then thought briefly of some of the villains he had fought. Maybe sanity was more directly related to the fashion choices people made? After all, his costume was pretty damn cool. Some of the villains, on the other hand... Well, "lame" begins to describe it.
Oh, and it just maybe had something to do with whether or not the person was the shooter or the shootie. That was probably the real dividing line.
"Okay, it's too early to be thinking about sanity and violence," Peter said to himself as he got out of bed. "I have a class about violence to get ready for anyway."