i had a dream that i was a mad scientist who looked exactly like david bowie. my main focus was research on the undead. i had done very bad things in studying them and may have killed some people in order to watch them turn (although that is based purely on the overwhelming guilt i felt).
there was a bunch of them in my basement and somehow they had escaped their cages. in the melee, i was attacked and bitten. my strange looking (ann coulter?) scientist wife and i may have unwittingly released the undead on the city. we were on the run. we ended up in an abandoned school bus, tending to our wounds. i decided to take the suicide pills.
my wife left. (to get help?) i lay bleeding in a fevered state in the back of the school bus... waiting to die. consciousness faded in and out. shifting between reincarnational existences. one was myself yet not myself in a different time, a different band. another one i was black and in prison. i faded to myself in bed, still not clarifying that it was a dream. the focus shifted back to the scientist in the bus.
i was remembering now, memories of the scientist. there was a large open park with hills and ponds. a small bike path ran through it. i was on my bicycle riding through, and near the end of the trail there was a small house. i saw a pile of sunflower plants and decided to steal them. but it was nearly impossible to ride the bike and carry them all.
i wake up on the bus and my wife is there. i tell her i don't want to die, i think i can survive the suicide pills. i feel terrible though. weak and sick. she looks at me like i'm already dead. like she's already moved on. but my survival instincts are kicking in, i'm going to make it. although i will probably end up on the run for the rest of my life.
then i wake up in my own bed, feeling awful. feeling like i carried the effect of the pills into this life. 'i don't wanna die from a dream pill' i think to myself. 'no one will know what happened... uhhh' and then i wrote down the dream and went back to sleep.