Escaping out of Dream World dialing 911


The pudgy hand of doom

Welcome to dream world. Tonight we’re going to horror central. The perps in this addition don’t look like monsters.

That’s the worst monster of all.

In this dream I was visiting a friend from the mid-west, only she was living in Maryland at the time. Now, this gets complicated. I wasn’t just visiting a friend from the mid-west. She HAD BEEN my friend in this life time. I was in my next lifetime, about 20, and in the dream I didn’t know that.

The guy I was with was 1/2 my 4th husband (not real bright) and 1/2 my present husband. What does that mean? He was smarter than he looked and could fix anything–in a Rube Goldberg sort of way. He showed up at the first and last of the dream.

I had traveled from Florida to Maryland to visit my friend. She seemed nervous whe she was showing me around. I met a man who was quite powerful in this lifetime but he was homeless in the next one. I gave him some vegetables I was carrying and went on my way.

The landscape was more of a cityscape, with a lot of new construction going on around us. My friend walked into one of the businesses, met by a young man with a face full of acne.

Now my friend was REALLY nervous. What was she hiding?

I was curious, so I followed her into a room full of equally frightened people and asked her what she was doing there. She said I should leave, now, and not ask questions. A man who was dumpy and balding said she was there because she was crazy. He said she was bad and shouldn’t have escaped the building.

That’s when I went ballistic.

There wasn’t a thing about my friend that was crazy, and I told him so. I threatened to call the authorities on him–after I spouted a monologue.

My friend said, “Run! They won’t let you leave!”

I stood there a moment, looking into dumpy’s eyes. It was like looking into a cold, dark pit. So I ran while trying to call 911. Sometime during this process Mr. 1/2 #4&5 showed up next to me.

The first time I tried to dial 911, I got some woman spouting porn at me. I immediately hug up. The face of the cellphone kept changing and I had to figure out where the numbers were as I ran. Finally! I dialed 911. A recording said that the number was no longer in existence due to budget cuts. By the time the custodians of the bogus mental health facility caught up with me, they were carrying yellow bullet-shaped canisters full of tiny black pellets that looked like roach poop.

There I was, face to face with bald&dumpy and his colleagues who were as equally nondescript–all holding yellow canisters. I was a goner!

But Wait! Incoming! In comes Mr. 1/2 #4&5 holding something that looked like a violin riding a roller coaster loop, knocking out the dumpies with it. We escape. I’m in a daze and he says….

hmmm….what was it he said? I don’t remember.

Whatever it was, he was smiling, kind and loving when he said it. I can tell you this: The next time I’m vising someone in another lifetime, I’m going to follow her advice.

BTW: If that’s the future, a place where the sane people are in asylums run by Hitleresque psychopaths, you can keep it.