dream this morning:
i was driving over a huge, elevated interstate. it was dangerously steep. it's night time. i can hear police chatter about drunk drivers on my police radio. i'm not drunk but i'm afraid they'll pull me over. it's taking forever to get over this thing, like hours.
next it's daylight. i stop to visit my friend jason, uninvited. its not his house in real life, but it has lots of small, square windows. there are 30 family members there, including little kids, all giving me a dirty look. his wife is pissed that i showed up. he comes downstairs from taking a shit and says i have to leave.
i'm not sure of the time frame but around this point of the dream i was in some sort of boys school. it's a giant room with no lights or windows or features besides some tables with bench seats. the walls are metal and gray. everyone is wearing gray sweats. a bigger, italian kid with black curly hair starts messing with me. he's the school bully. all the other kids are watching to see what i do. he's pushing my arm, then pushing my back. i hold my ground. he starts feigning a face slap.
"what are you gonna do?" he slaps me, not too hard. i won't retaliate. some elder person comes in the room and it stops for a while. finally when it starts back up, i pull up my shirt and show this bully my herniated abdomen. "take a look" i say. "i'm on medication. if i start bleeding, i'll bleed right out and you'll be charged with murder." at that point he is disappointed and stops harassing me.
now i'm at a party. it's douchey comedian bill bellamy's house. for some reason in this dream he is gay and has a boyfriend named mario trubiano, who is also a famous actor. parts of the house are dilapidated. they are renting out the house as an airbnb and someone rented it for this party. the main living room and kitchen are normal. the living room has white carpet, white walls and white couches with black pillows. there is a white brick fireplace. celebrities are hanging out in the living room. i am standing in the kitchen, which is covered in white tiles. i'm standing behind a island counter, there are drinks everywhere. i'm wearing some sort of burqa type thing that leaves only my eyes exposed.
duff mckagan walks in. he doesn't know who i am but i am pretending we are friends. after a stare-down and asking who i was for 10 minutes, he starts to get annoyed. at first he wants to fight, but then he calms down when i show him my full face. he grabs my left hand and puts a giant tab of acid on it.
"this should do it"
"uh, i have to drive home, no thanks"
"well this is so potent, it will go right through your skin"
i start to panic a little bit, and immediately i am tripping hard. there goes driving home, i think to myself.
several actresses walk in the room, dressed up in nightclub wear. they are famous but i can't recognize them. they are all pulling small radio flyer wagons filled with big stacks of their tell-all books. looks like they're trying to get rid of these at the party.
i follow duff into another room of the house. it's a big open space with giant, dark blue metal beams holding up a stained glass ceiling. the room is musty and dank. one picture window is completely gone and the wood rotted out around it. there is a loft up to one side, covered in cobblestones, but when i climb up, i can see it was once a music studio. now it's just piled up with junk and old furniture. below this, duff is rummaging around the bar area. there is an old game system, like an atari or intellivision, with a stack of video games in special collector cases, all marked with a comics style grading system. i'm telling duff how GNR changed my entire childhood and how much they ruled, then how much i thought they became a joke later on.
suddenly there is a commotion from up near the glass ceiling. mc hammer is up there near the top of the rafters, wearing a blue and purple striped suit. he is on something and carrying on. i see something flying through the air past my face. "bats!" i point as duff looks and agrees. this bat flies up and then there are about 30 bats all flying up to their nests. mc hammer sees them and loses his balance. he falls about 50 feet and breaks into several pieces. everyone laughs. i run over and pick up the pieces and set them back up like he is a real person before the police arrive. everyone keeps laughing about it. his head rolls back and falls on the floor.
that's all i can remember before i woke up
a random collection of whatever from beyond the cosmic horizon; the psychic adventures of a rambling, gambling, heavy metal beatnik.
Wednesday, March 28, 2018
Saturday, March 24, 2018
maybe the longest and dumbest dream ever
dream this morning:
i'm in vegas, but an orlando type of vibe vegas. the first night i am drinking and playing slots and winning. my wife is there, she asks if the winnings are mine. oh yeah they are. the night goes on and things get blurry. the next thing i know, i'm in a rental car. it's daylight. i feel very drunk and tired. i'm sitting in a line of cars waiting to get into a parking garage. everything is painted in a faded lemon color. the parking garage walls, the pavement, the rental car. i'm getting impatient because the guy in front of me has stopped for some reason. i start wondering if i should back out and go around another way. i doze off... finally i come to, but i don't know how long i've been out. i look around and there are no cars behind or in front of me. definitely feeling too drunk to drive. i need to park on the bottom level, but i can't. i end up on the very top level (where the sun beats down) and park and go in through some big glass doors.
once i'm in my room i just want to nap. it's all wood paneling with little white tables and chairs made out of hard plastic. the carpets are also white. there's a small bedroom off the main room. there's a knock at the door, it's some people i don't recognize but who know me. they are music business people. one of them has dark curly hair and looks like a cross between jon favreau and andrew the giant. another is a smaller, thin old man with stark white hair. there's a woman with them but somehow i never see her face. they are here for a music conference. they are surprised that i am surprised that i am playing said music conference. which band? nobody knows? really? why can't i remember? i don't say anything because i'm embarrassed. these new strangers don't leave. they settle in and tell me they're looking at managing the band. ok. they ask if my wife came with me to the music conference. "no, this is the first time she didn't come to vegas for some reason" i said, clearly not aware that she was there the previous night. after some other boring conversation, i tell the strangers i'm going to bed and try to sleep in the other room. except favreau and starkwhite begin having a loud conversation and in no time at all i am up and drunkenly yelling for them to get lost. they begrudgingly leave. i still need to know which band is playing and when, so i find a las vegas type of nuvo magazine and start pouring through the pages, looking for either band's name. i can't find it anywhere, but i did see Mothership listed in an ad.
i go downstairs to what looks vaguely like 'the strip'. i run into jason rich. he wants to go get a beer. i can't though, i've got to figure out wtf i'm doing here and why i don't know what's going on, who's playing and where. while we're talking i see some video screens on the ground, they have advertisements for upcoming events. i see one out of the corner of my eye, it has three photos with the artist name and date. in the middle is a photo of me, wearing a cowboy hat, looking pissed, with STEVE JANIAK across the top. at the bottom is says the venue and date, but it scrolls left too fast before i get a look. SHIT.
at some point i see a what looks like a big plastic kids toy, like a 4 or 5 foot long fisher price school bus. the top part looks like a shopping cart. there are two homeless girls living inside it. i end up climbing in the bottom half and have a conversation with this blonde girl. she's telling me she is semi-famous and works with this international youtube star. his cassette is hanging up on the wall inside this toy bus they live in. i can't remember the name on it exactly, it was like IOTA or IOTA MAN or IO MAN or something. the cassette is bright yellow with black ink. the school bus is also yellow, inside and out. we have a conversation about living our dreams as she wants to be a youtube star. she tells me that IO MAN always tags his videos with her name, but i am skeptical. so she pulls out her smartphone and i sit through a techno video by IOTA MAN. i can't believe that is popular but i tell her it's pretty good. sure enough, at the end there is a logo that pops up, it's white with a blue border that looks like a diagram of an atom. it says IOTA something, and with an asterisk below it says 'sponsored by amber so and so'. she looks really proud of herself and that is super cool, but she lives in a toy school bus under an overpass on the strip. i eventually say i have to go and make an exit.
at this point i am carrying my big klipsch speaker and some other stuff, maybe a backpack and a box of random junk. i see favreau and he is coming to talk to me. a train pulls up as we (jason and i) are close to the tracks. jason says "follow me" and he gets on the train. i pick up all my stuff and get on the train. jason goes up and out through another set of doors. he's off the train. the train starts moving. uh oh. how long is this train and where does it go? i look back through another set of windows to a separate compartment. favreau is looking at me from across the way, somewhat menacingly.
now the inside of the train becomes just like a school bus or a subway car. i throw my shit in the seats. i walk to the front of the bus to get some answers. the driver of the train bus says this bus train goes to the Anheuser-Busch brewery and museum. how long does that take? "no idea" he says. the train bus heads up into the clouds on a monorail track. i can see all of the vegas strip below, but it looks more like a giant theme park. as we get closer to the brewery, which pokes above the clouds like something out of the wizard of oz, the train starts slowing down. i can feel the heat of favreau's prying eyes. the train stops in the middle of a cloud so dense i can't see any ground. the conductor-driver yells details about the stop and the brewery and tours and such. i jump off the train bus. i look down past the rows of cars and see favreau also gets off. as the train starts back up, i jump on at the last second. favreau's eyes go wide as he chases the last car and grabs on.
a few more conversations with the conductor, and i'm convinced he knows absolutely nothing. after more flying through the clouds, we get to a huge complex in the sky and the train bus goes right into the building. the sides of the train bus melt away and we are sitting in bucket seats, attached to a moving rail above. we're in a museum. there is all kinds of wacky stuff on both sides, but we're going too fast to see anything. one part i did notice was a 3D simpsons room. there were characters and scenes being generated via hologram. i could hear homer's voice booming from a speaker as his 15 foot head was beamed from the dark blue floor; "the meaning of life is ... donuts... mmm" but i can't quite remember it exactly. after the simpsons room we went into a shiny mirrored hallway with bright lights. there were hard lefts and hard rights and the bucket seats swung so hard i thought i would fall out.
the next thing i know, i'm in a small, wood paneled room. there are two or three other people in the room, one of which is favreau. on a small brown loveseat is an injured cowboy. i don't know any of the others, nor can i recall seeing their faces. but it becomes apparent to me that we have to eat, since we're trapped. (duh). i pull out a massive knife from a drawer. everyone starts to freak out. "we've got to survive!" i tell them. next, i pull out a giant axe from the drawer and tell the rest in the room to hold down the cowboy, who starts yelling "Nooooo" as i plan to chop off his left foot. favreau is yelling for me to stop, but it's too late. suddenly things seem to get a bit weird as i know in my own mind i only chopped off his big toe, but they all saw me chop off his entire foot. i tell the cowboy "i hope your feet are clean, but we've got to survive" as i toss his foot onto a massive skillet that has been heating up in the background.
i can't remember actually cooking and eating this cowboy's foot but in time we get released and nobody says a word about it. i have to get back on the train bus because i left my speaker and junk behind. plus i still need to figure out wtf i am doing and if i'm playing with a band or as a solo country artist. i start think that i am dead or possibly just dying. we come down from the clouds and back to the strip. i had no money so i had to jump in the back of one of the cars with a flatbed. before security can see me, i hop down to the sidewalk when the train begins to slow. i run up to some lady in a police outfit. "i need to get my stuff! i left my stuff behind!" she scowls and puts up her hand for me to shut up. "you need to wait here, you're getting in everyone's way" so i stand there impatiently as people slowly get off the train and enter the sidewalk. across the way is angry old lady in a wheelchair. she's waiting behind a small railroad crossing gate.
waiting there is about the last thing i remember.
i'm in vegas, but an orlando type of vibe vegas. the first night i am drinking and playing slots and winning. my wife is there, she asks if the winnings are mine. oh yeah they are. the night goes on and things get blurry. the next thing i know, i'm in a rental car. it's daylight. i feel very drunk and tired. i'm sitting in a line of cars waiting to get into a parking garage. everything is painted in a faded lemon color. the parking garage walls, the pavement, the rental car. i'm getting impatient because the guy in front of me has stopped for some reason. i start wondering if i should back out and go around another way. i doze off... finally i come to, but i don't know how long i've been out. i look around and there are no cars behind or in front of me. definitely feeling too drunk to drive. i need to park on the bottom level, but i can't. i end up on the very top level (where the sun beats down) and park and go in through some big glass doors.
once i'm in my room i just want to nap. it's all wood paneling with little white tables and chairs made out of hard plastic. the carpets are also white. there's a small bedroom off the main room. there's a knock at the door, it's some people i don't recognize but who know me. they are music business people. one of them has dark curly hair and looks like a cross between jon favreau and andrew the giant. another is a smaller, thin old man with stark white hair. there's a woman with them but somehow i never see her face. they are here for a music conference. they are surprised that i am surprised that i am playing said music conference. which band? nobody knows? really? why can't i remember? i don't say anything because i'm embarrassed. these new strangers don't leave. they settle in and tell me they're looking at managing the band. ok. they ask if my wife came with me to the music conference. "no, this is the first time she didn't come to vegas for some reason" i said, clearly not aware that she was there the previous night. after some other boring conversation, i tell the strangers i'm going to bed and try to sleep in the other room. except favreau and starkwhite begin having a loud conversation and in no time at all i am up and drunkenly yelling for them to get lost. they begrudgingly leave. i still need to know which band is playing and when, so i find a las vegas type of nuvo magazine and start pouring through the pages, looking for either band's name. i can't find it anywhere, but i did see Mothership listed in an ad.
i go downstairs to what looks vaguely like 'the strip'. i run into jason rich. he wants to go get a beer. i can't though, i've got to figure out wtf i'm doing here and why i don't know what's going on, who's playing and where. while we're talking i see some video screens on the ground, they have advertisements for upcoming events. i see one out of the corner of my eye, it has three photos with the artist name and date. in the middle is a photo of me, wearing a cowboy hat, looking pissed, with STEVE JANIAK across the top. at the bottom is says the venue and date, but it scrolls left too fast before i get a look. SHIT.
at some point i see a what looks like a big plastic kids toy, like a 4 or 5 foot long fisher price school bus. the top part looks like a shopping cart. there are two homeless girls living inside it. i end up climbing in the bottom half and have a conversation with this blonde girl. she's telling me she is semi-famous and works with this international youtube star. his cassette is hanging up on the wall inside this toy bus they live in. i can't remember the name on it exactly, it was like IOTA or IOTA MAN or IO MAN or something. the cassette is bright yellow with black ink. the school bus is also yellow, inside and out. we have a conversation about living our dreams as she wants to be a youtube star. she tells me that IO MAN always tags his videos with her name, but i am skeptical. so she pulls out her smartphone and i sit through a techno video by IOTA MAN. i can't believe that is popular but i tell her it's pretty good. sure enough, at the end there is a logo that pops up, it's white with a blue border that looks like a diagram of an atom. it says IOTA something, and with an asterisk below it says 'sponsored by amber so and so'. she looks really proud of herself and that is super cool, but she lives in a toy school bus under an overpass on the strip. i eventually say i have to go and make an exit.
at this point i am carrying my big klipsch speaker and some other stuff, maybe a backpack and a box of random junk. i see favreau and he is coming to talk to me. a train pulls up as we (jason and i) are close to the tracks. jason says "follow me" and he gets on the train. i pick up all my stuff and get on the train. jason goes up and out through another set of doors. he's off the train. the train starts moving. uh oh. how long is this train and where does it go? i look back through another set of windows to a separate compartment. favreau is looking at me from across the way, somewhat menacingly.
now the inside of the train becomes just like a school bus or a subway car. i throw my shit in the seats. i walk to the front of the bus to get some answers. the driver of the train bus says this bus train goes to the Anheuser-Busch brewery and museum. how long does that take? "no idea" he says. the train bus heads up into the clouds on a monorail track. i can see all of the vegas strip below, but it looks more like a giant theme park. as we get closer to the brewery, which pokes above the clouds like something out of the wizard of oz, the train starts slowing down. i can feel the heat of favreau's prying eyes. the train stops in the middle of a cloud so dense i can't see any ground. the conductor-driver yells details about the stop and the brewery and tours and such. i jump off the train bus. i look down past the rows of cars and see favreau also gets off. as the train starts back up, i jump on at the last second. favreau's eyes go wide as he chases the last car and grabs on.
a few more conversations with the conductor, and i'm convinced he knows absolutely nothing. after more flying through the clouds, we get to a huge complex in the sky and the train bus goes right into the building. the sides of the train bus melt away and we are sitting in bucket seats, attached to a moving rail above. we're in a museum. there is all kinds of wacky stuff on both sides, but we're going too fast to see anything. one part i did notice was a 3D simpsons room. there were characters and scenes being generated via hologram. i could hear homer's voice booming from a speaker as his 15 foot head was beamed from the dark blue floor; "the meaning of life is ... donuts... mmm" but i can't quite remember it exactly. after the simpsons room we went into a shiny mirrored hallway with bright lights. there were hard lefts and hard rights and the bucket seats swung so hard i thought i would fall out.
the next thing i know, i'm in a small, wood paneled room. there are two or three other people in the room, one of which is favreau. on a small brown loveseat is an injured cowboy. i don't know any of the others, nor can i recall seeing their faces. but it becomes apparent to me that we have to eat, since we're trapped. (duh). i pull out a massive knife from a drawer. everyone starts to freak out. "we've got to survive!" i tell them. next, i pull out a giant axe from the drawer and tell the rest in the room to hold down the cowboy, who starts yelling "Nooooo" as i plan to chop off his left foot. favreau is yelling for me to stop, but it's too late. suddenly things seem to get a bit weird as i know in my own mind i only chopped off his big toe, but they all saw me chop off his entire foot. i tell the cowboy "i hope your feet are clean, but we've got to survive" as i toss his foot onto a massive skillet that has been heating up in the background.
i can't remember actually cooking and eating this cowboy's foot but in time we get released and nobody says a word about it. i have to get back on the train bus because i left my speaker and junk behind. plus i still need to figure out wtf i am doing and if i'm playing with a band or as a solo country artist. i start think that i am dead or possibly just dying. we come down from the clouds and back to the strip. i had no money so i had to jump in the back of one of the cars with a flatbed. before security can see me, i hop down to the sidewalk when the train begins to slow. i run up to some lady in a police outfit. "i need to get my stuff! i left my stuff behind!" she scowls and puts up her hand for me to shut up. "you need to wait here, you're getting in everyone's way" so i stand there impatiently as people slowly get off the train and enter the sidewalk. across the way is angry old lady in a wheelchair. she's waiting behind a small railroad crossing gate.
waiting there is about the last thing i remember.
Thursday, March 22, 2018
$6 check
dream this morning:
sitting in a booth in a restaurant. donald trump slides in the seat across from me. people are gathered around, gawking. jeff sessions comes up to ask him something. he leans towards him, but without looking at him says "get me a drink."
so jeff sessions runs off. trump's jawing with the crowd, smiling and winking and numbnuts stuff. i am trying to figure out wtf i'm going to say. jeff sessions returns with some sort of colorful fruit cocktail with celery sticking out of the top. immediately trump berates him, "why didn't you bring one for this guy? i can't just drink in front of people? jesus!" so sessions demurely backs away and brings another fruit cocktail. "that'll be six dollars, sir"
"six dollars? jesus you think you would have covered it!" trump seethes. "get me my checkbook!" he says to no one in particular. seconds later a faceless suit hands him an open folder containing multiple designs of personal checks. trump, still smiling at the crowd, picks one and tears it off the top.
"see, i pay with a check, and then later i can get my money back, saying it was fake!" he says proudly as he writes a $6 check.
i flipped out. said a bunch of really terrible things that i shouldn't put in print. stuff about paying his bills, and telling the truth and paying whores and being a general ignoramus on every possible level. everyone gasped. his eyebrows raised and you could see he was trying to figure out how to punch back. i can't remember the rest, but i felt a little better.
then i woke up
sitting in a booth in a restaurant. donald trump slides in the seat across from me. people are gathered around, gawking. jeff sessions comes up to ask him something. he leans towards him, but without looking at him says "get me a drink."
so jeff sessions runs off. trump's jawing with the crowd, smiling and winking and numbnuts stuff. i am trying to figure out wtf i'm going to say. jeff sessions returns with some sort of colorful fruit cocktail with celery sticking out of the top. immediately trump berates him, "why didn't you bring one for this guy? i can't just drink in front of people? jesus!" so sessions demurely backs away and brings another fruit cocktail. "that'll be six dollars, sir"
"six dollars? jesus you think you would have covered it!" trump seethes. "get me my checkbook!" he says to no one in particular. seconds later a faceless suit hands him an open folder containing multiple designs of personal checks. trump, still smiling at the crowd, picks one and tears it off the top.
"see, i pay with a check, and then later i can get my money back, saying it was fake!" he says proudly as he writes a $6 check.
i flipped out. said a bunch of really terrible things that i shouldn't put in print. stuff about paying his bills, and telling the truth and paying whores and being a general ignoramus on every possible level. everyone gasped. his eyebrows raised and you could see he was trying to figure out how to punch back. i can't remember the rest, but i felt a little better.
then i woke up
Wednesday, March 21, 2018
alice cooper's gift record - flying over the casino
dream i had this morning:
i was inside steve boyle's house. even though i've never been there in real life. no one was there, but for some reason it was ok. i was in a bedroom taking a camera and trying two switch out a giant lens on it. at some point alice cooper called. he and i talked for a few minutes before i told him "i finally listened to that blues record you gave me. it's really really good!"
he responded with "that record wasn't for you!? i told you to give it to so and so from that other band!"
"oh yeah. i knew that, i just forgot, i got really really high earlier."
"wow"
* silence *
"hello?"
no response. i hung up.
eventually someone came home. but now it was aaron brunsman's house. the living room had a giant round sectional couch and many tables and chairs. it was laid out like a mexican restaurant. i had stuffed the blues record into a backpack, because now i needed to get it to whomever from whatever band, all of which i could not remember. aaron came in and i said hello. explained that i was borrowing the camera again. he looked down and seemed pissed. i quickly made an exit. one of the living room walls was now an opening to a shopping mall. i walked out of the mexican restaurant through the mall to where i left my bike on the ground, feeling like a giant dummy.
then i woke up.
a few days ago i had a crazy dream where some friends and i were in a tiny helicopter. we landed it between some highly charged electrical wires in a daring landing. but for some reason we waited until the nighttime to fly over a huge casino built on the water. jason marcuson was holding onto a drone, and myself and two others (larry king and possibly mike naish) were holding on to him so we didn't fall. we were about 150 feet above the water level. it was pitch black out, but the casino was completely covered in flashing lights. at one end was a pier with multiple levels of stages. on those stages were dancing girls wearing costumes with flashing lights. there were probably 50 girls on each platform, all dancing in unison at the end of this pier. no one could really see them except from a highway that was maybe half a mile away. i felt bad for them, but i wanted to snap a photo. like most dreams i was unable to get my phone camera to work for some reason. in this case, i held on to jason with one hand and fumbled to get my phone out of my pocket. as i did, i started to juggle it and it bounced around. i took a deep breath and almost dropped it, but i was able to hang on. we were moving perpendicular to the casino and ooh-ing and aah-ing, all scrambling to hold on to jason, who was somehow guiding the drone and holding onto it with both hands. it was cold and the wind was biting. i don't remember ever falling or coming back down.
eventually i woke up.
i was inside steve boyle's house. even though i've never been there in real life. no one was there, but for some reason it was ok. i was in a bedroom taking a camera and trying two switch out a giant lens on it. at some point alice cooper called. he and i talked for a few minutes before i told him "i finally listened to that blues record you gave me. it's really really good!"
he responded with "that record wasn't for you!? i told you to give it to so and so from that other band!"
"oh yeah. i knew that, i just forgot, i got really really high earlier."
"wow"
* silence *
"hello?"
no response. i hung up.
eventually someone came home. but now it was aaron brunsman's house. the living room had a giant round sectional couch and many tables and chairs. it was laid out like a mexican restaurant. i had stuffed the blues record into a backpack, because now i needed to get it to whomever from whatever band, all of which i could not remember. aaron came in and i said hello. explained that i was borrowing the camera again. he looked down and seemed pissed. i quickly made an exit. one of the living room walls was now an opening to a shopping mall. i walked out of the mexican restaurant through the mall to where i left my bike on the ground, feeling like a giant dummy.
then i woke up.
a few days ago i had a crazy dream where some friends and i were in a tiny helicopter. we landed it between some highly charged electrical wires in a daring landing. but for some reason we waited until the nighttime to fly over a huge casino built on the water. jason marcuson was holding onto a drone, and myself and two others (larry king and possibly mike naish) were holding on to him so we didn't fall. we were about 150 feet above the water level. it was pitch black out, but the casino was completely covered in flashing lights. at one end was a pier with multiple levels of stages. on those stages were dancing girls wearing costumes with flashing lights. there were probably 50 girls on each platform, all dancing in unison at the end of this pier. no one could really see them except from a highway that was maybe half a mile away. i felt bad for them, but i wanted to snap a photo. like most dreams i was unable to get my phone camera to work for some reason. in this case, i held on to jason with one hand and fumbled to get my phone out of my pocket. as i did, i started to juggle it and it bounced around. i took a deep breath and almost dropped it, but i was able to hang on. we were moving perpendicular to the casino and ooh-ing and aah-ing, all scrambling to hold on to jason, who was somehow guiding the drone and holding onto it with both hands. it was cold and the wind was biting. i don't remember ever falling or coming back down.
eventually i woke up.
Monday, March 5, 2018
flying dream - zombie apocalypse dream
dreams:
yesterday morning i had a dream i was flying. i had mastered the art of levitation and was in some neighborhood for a friend's get together. just using my mind, floating 2 feet in the air, no big deal. later i was flying around the neighborhood, trying to master the takeoffs and landings.
this morning i had a horrible zombie apocalypse dream. the zombies had just started appearing and power was going out. phones weren't working. internet obviously out. i was a young college student on some campus. the people around me were unaware of the danger. i started collecting supplies and was stealing money to buy stuff, as some stores weren't yet hip to the collapsing of civilization.
at some point there was an administrator from the school who tried to get in my way somehow. i can't remember details but i had to kill him and his associate by tossing him over a railing. it was all very real and visceral.
yesterday morning i had a dream i was flying. i had mastered the art of levitation and was in some neighborhood for a friend's get together. just using my mind, floating 2 feet in the air, no big deal. later i was flying around the neighborhood, trying to master the takeoffs and landings.
this morning i had a horrible zombie apocalypse dream. the zombies had just started appearing and power was going out. phones weren't working. internet obviously out. i was a young college student on some campus. the people around me were unaware of the danger. i started collecting supplies and was stealing money to buy stuff, as some stores weren't yet hip to the collapsing of civilization.
at some point there was an administrator from the school who tried to get in my way somehow. i can't remember details but i had to kill him and his associate by tossing him over a railing. it was all very real and visceral.
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