Another Dream

Last night I had the classic "naked at school" dream, except I had a t-shirt around my neck, and was sprinting through the halls of my high school without embarrassment. They were pretty sparse, except for a friend's sister and a few other people I hardly know. Before that, I was in AP Euro, and an ex-girlfriend was leaving that room, hit her hand on the wall, and started crying. I looked at people around me as she called for a friend, sobbing it up, and couldn't believe how much of a baby she was being.

Anyway, so I sprint down to the parking lot, naked, past all these cars, I'm laughing hysterically, and jump into my car and finally pull the shirt down to give myself some dignity. Friends are pulling out past me, waving, all that good stuff. So then I try to leave, but on the way out, there's a huge construction hole that I have to drive around.

And then, I woke up.

Crazy Dream

So, last night I had a dream.

It started in fire, with zombies. Lots of celebrities were being reported to have attacked one another, and eventually it was revealed that they were the living dead. I had already begun running into the desert, and had one of those water funnels that you just put into the ground and wait for water to seep into (yes, they do work). And so I was making my way through the desert, and then suddenly I'm on the ocean, and Stephen Trotter is at the base of a cliff that is actually a gigantic version of the meat display at a grocery store. He dares me to climb up it, and I try at first, then realize there are steps to the side, and use those.

I reach the top, and it's like a theater set up to watch the ocean, but fucking gigantic. I start talking with people, who take my weapons, and then I decide I've got to go make it on my own again, and go back to the desert.

Then I find myself talking to my Spanish teacher, still in this ocean-watching-theatre carved out of a cliff and buttressed by meat, and he tells me some of my friends have died. In Spanish.

Next thing I know, I'm walking through an abandoned town, and find a Walgreens. I go in; it's really crowded, but with actual people. I look around, confused, wondering where all the zombies have gone, when lo and behold my Spanish teacher comes from the back room and tells me that this part of the world is clear of zombies. He then takes me to my high school, where I find that the electricity is working, everyone has a weapon (including me), and life is good, because there's lots of food.

At one point in this dream I was walking through some weird version of my neighborhood, like it was all under construction (or destruction), and it was broad daylight, but I saw no zombies.

Anyway, so here I am at my old high school with my Spanish teacher, and we're catching up on old times.

Then suddenly I'm in the desert again, at the outskirts of some African village, when an army convoy of sorts pulls up, and I surrender, and they call someone forward, and over a dune rolls my Spanish teacher in full bad-ass Army getup, carrying a gun, and he comes over and we talk.

And then I woke up.

Crazy, huh?

Questions/Observations

I can't help but wonder at the fact that the PopeMobile is bulletproof. It's just incredible. Just something I thought I'd point out.

Anyway.

So, I was having trouble finding something today. My dad got mad enough to start shouting, even despite my repeatedly saying "Calm down" and insisting that anger was getting us nowhere. If I'd gotten as mad as he did, I'm sure I'd be grounded, or we would've had a fistfight, or something. And yet he insists that we both go to therapy.

Fuck that. If I get forced into therapy, I'll flip. No idea what the fuck I'll do, but it won't be reasonable. I've been reasonable my whole life.

How can people claim to be conservative and hate guns? Conservatives want less government -- doesn't that mean also keeping gun control as-is? I think so. Small government -- and some enforcement to keep it that way. That's what I say.

Anyway. I had some thoughts earlier but can't remember them. Here's all for now. Cheers.