#Dreams that play like movies
What mental movie was I subjected to on this glorious night?
First, let me give Annette kudo’s for her recent — and possibly prophetic — angel message:
BELIEVE IN IT and you will BE IN IT!
If you don’t believe it, here’s a link to her website: https://annetterochelleaben.wordpress.com/2019/05/07/angel-messages-may-7-2019/
Annette Rochelle Aben has such a positive outlook on life. It might be infectious if my attitude wasn’t presently imbedded in the sarcasm zone.
<– If we were in the same room, this would be a picture of Annette trying to cheer me up.
(She has a great sense of humor, so I have no doubt I won’t be sued).
Back to the mental movie from hell.
Don’t you just love those movies where you’re wandering around a strange planet after being exiled from where ever the hell it is you came from?
Yes, it was a “What the hell am I doing here?” dream where I couldn’t remember my name.
- I can’t drink, so it certainly wasn’t the result of alcohol poisoning.
- I don’t do drugs, unless you consider it a recreational experience to take Armour Thyroid for survival.
So… there I was, wandering through a forest with one word shouting into my brain: ESCAPE!
Okay — I’ll bite. Escape from what? Lovely pathways bordered by trees higher than anything Earth has allowed to grow for 100 years? Escape from the lovely sounds of nothingness?
So…there I was, wandering through the forest with a parasitic locust leisurely sucking on my shoulder.
All right: I’ve just left sarcasm behind and entered the DISGUSTED ZONE!
Imagine you’re wandering alone in the forest and this has a straw stuck through your shoulder.
Did I scream? No.
Did I try to beat it off me with a shoe? No.
I looked into an alien sky just like the one on Earth and asked, “What’s your name?”
This is, after all, a dream. And the logic of dream world isn’t a lot different than believing that a swarm of politicians are working through the night just to create legislation that will cut your taxes.
The sounds of a military echo through a sky, while shadows of an impending dusk reach across the path…
In the chaos of soldiers preparing for war, tanks and — just for effect — a few explosions, I enter a clearing where heavily trampled grass looks like a well-manicured lawn.
I ran into the expanse of treeless plain, yelling out at a head that looked like Thor from the first movie, “Admiral! Stop! You cannot go back to Earth!”
Like waking up next to the world’s ugliest guy after a binge, I remembered who I was, why I was there, deeply regretted it…
And that’s when dream world built a diner in front of an army.
What construction company wouldn’t want to create buildings in seconds? This one was the Tardis of diners — looked like an outhouse but larger on the inside. The usual stereotypes wandered around as servers while I sat at a table and tried to count the vertical, thin, wood slats creating a wall.
I don’t know what was on the plate the waitress dropped at my table, by that time I couldn’t remember all the exotic salad materials available on the planet, but I did wonder if the locust on my shoulder had ordered it instead of me.
Contemplating the truth — I had been running away from wildlife wanting to eat me, not exploring a peaceful planet. I looked over to find the locust was no longer there.
After a most unsatisfying breakfast, I left the chair shaped like a toilet seat and wandered to the counter. There, I asked if I could have scrambled eggs with ham. The waitress looked up at me and said, “You’ve already eaten.”
Perhaps she meant that I was already eaten?
I stepped outside, trying to find the admiral again, but this time he was hovering over the ground, his body from the arms down looking like the cylindrical rear end of a locust. He said nothing, and moved toward a spaceship bound for Earth.
I stood there, helplessly watching as a swam entered in after him, and then I grumbled, “What a waste of a perfectly good man-body.”
It was, after all, a dream. If it weren’t, I never would’ve ordered ham with my eggs.
©Joelle (what the hell was I thinking?) LeGendre