Strangers on a Wraith? Wraith on a Train? What?
Ugh. Last night I had a really scary dream about the Wraith. (For you non-SGA people, the Wraith are big scary dudes that suck the life out of you with their hands.) Earth was invaded. I was on the run with my three best friends, two guys and a girl, none of whom I know in real life, although the girl was occasionally nenar. The dream was like a movie, moving from set piece to set piece. There was a scene where we hid in the locker room of a school gym, and another on a farm, and a long sequence on a train. (In the dream I made some sort of Strangers on a Train joke, but now I can't remember what it was.) The Wraith were proceeding very slowly and methodically, like now that they had found such a rich repository of food, they could take their time. The dream went on and on.
There was a lengthy bit where I rescued a little girl I had sort of adopted, and another bit where my three friends and I talked about the music we missed and were going to listen to when this was all over, and a bit where I made out with one of my male companions because I decided, in the heat of the moment, that I loved him. And then, miracle of miracles, I found out that my father was still alive. There was a tearful reunion scene, and then he and the little girl and I took refuge in this half-buried trailer. We were feeling halfway safe and secure when a strange woman burst in. She was clearly intoxicated or on drugs, and she started raving about how she was going to take our hiding place. Then she pulled out a gun and shot my father in the head. I screamed and rushed her, disarming her after she sent a few more rounds into the floor. I pinned her down and held my father's hand as he died. Then I emptied the rest of the clip into the woman's face.
I woke up.
So...besides the fact that my dream reads like My First Movie, what was up with that? I mean, it's very nice that I can dream the longest gen fic ever, but what's with that moralistic coda? Sure, the Wraith are evil, but the real monsters are inside us. Thank you, subconscious. I really needed to be told that, and so graphically.
I miss my BtVS days when it was just one long stream of sex dreams about Spike. Where by "one long stream of" I mean "occasional" and by "sex dreams" I mean "a series of increasingly ridiculous scenarios wherein we got interrupted before we could get to the good part" but...yeah. Still.
There was a lengthy bit where I rescued a little girl I had sort of adopted, and another bit where my three friends and I talked about the music we missed and were going to listen to when this was all over, and a bit where I made out with one of my male companions because I decided, in the heat of the moment, that I loved him. And then, miracle of miracles, I found out that my father was still alive. There was a tearful reunion scene, and then he and the little girl and I took refuge in this half-buried trailer. We were feeling halfway safe and secure when a strange woman burst in. She was clearly intoxicated or on drugs, and she started raving about how she was going to take our hiding place. Then she pulled out a gun and shot my father in the head. I screamed and rushed her, disarming her after she sent a few more rounds into the floor. I pinned her down and held my father's hand as he died. Then I emptied the rest of the clip into the woman's face.
I woke up.
So...besides the fact that my dream reads like My First Movie, what was up with that? I mean, it's very nice that I can dream the longest gen fic ever, but what's with that moralistic coda? Sure, the Wraith are evil, but the real monsters are inside us. Thank you, subconscious. I really needed to be told that, and so graphically.
I miss my BtVS days when it was just one long stream of sex dreams about Spike. Where by "one long stream of" I mean "occasional" and by "sex dreams" I mean "a series of increasingly ridiculous scenarios wherein we got interrupted before we could get to the good part" but...yeah. Still.