Monday, March 05, 2007

Ian Returns to Dreamland - Parts 2 & 3

Okay, the dream I posted on Friday may have been sweet and touching, but these next two (I had another weird one over the weekend) are most certainly in a different category. If anyone wants to play Dream Doctor (and some of you have been very insightful in the past), I think I could definitely use the help. (Or I might need help in a very clinical sense.) Let's see what you think:

1) I'm driving around a neighborhood in an old car (judging from the interior, I think it's my very first car, a 1986 Mustang) with a couple of my childhood friends. We stop at a corner and stare at a house that looks brown, damp, and run down. It's surrounded by a rotting fence, and we're looking at the top floor of the house from across the street.

My friends say they heard a murder supposedly took place there, but it was never proven, and the man accused of the killing still lives in the house. We stare at one of the windows, but don't see any signs of activity. I can feel myself getting sleepy and decide to take a nap in the car.

Later, I wake up and ask how long I've been asleep. There's no answer. Then I feel a forearm press down across my chest and pin me to the seat. I can't breathe, but try to push myself up and get this person off of me. But he pushes down harder. I try to reach for the window so I can roll it down. As I get a grip on the handle, my hand is cut by something, maybe a box cutter. But I can't feel anything. I can only see the cut. The sleeve of my jacket is sliced a couple of times too, as the attacker seems to become more frantic.

I manage to get the window halfway rolled down, and then feel the person's weight let up. So I push him over the steering wheel, against the windshield, and finally get a good look at who's doing this to me. It's Tim Robbins.

2) I wake up from a nap, and am in that kind of half asleep/half awake limbo state as I try to get comfortable on the couch. I open my eyes, the fog in my head begins to clear, and I see a bunch of bubbles in the air. Little ones, like the size of nickels.

At first, I just think my eyes are messing with me as I'm trying to wake up. But I sit up, and am surrounded by these bubbles that look like blood cells under a microscope. They're pinkish-purple, translucent, and floating everywhere.

I reach out to try and touch one, but each bubble is pushed away by the movement of my hand. By then, I'm fully awake and sit on the edge of the couch to really try and get my hands on one of these bubbles. Unlike "regular" bubbles, however, these don't pop when I touch them. Finally, I concentrate and manage to catch one between my thumb and index finger. It feels kind of soft and rubbery, almost like a Gummi Bear. But when I peer in for a closer look, the bubble isn't a bubble at all. It's not a blood cell type of object, either. It's a mushroom. A pinkish-purple, translucent mushroom slice.

So I stand up and try to find the source of the mushroom bubbles. The stream seems to get stronger as I walk toward the kitchen. At one point, I can't see anything but the bubbles. They're in my hair, I can feel them on my skin, and am trying not to breathe them in, so I go to my knees. (Stop, drop, and roll!) Suddenly, the swarm dissipates, splitting in two like the Red Sea parting, and clearing a path toward the sink. I crawl toward the sink, afraid of what I'm going to see. But I have to know what's going on. Pressed against the cabinet doors, I slowly rise up, hoping not to frighten whatever monster has to be in that sink. As my eyeline moves above the edge of the counter, I see it.

It's not a monster, it's a giant #@$%ing mushroom sitting in a plastic grocery bag. The very top of the mushroom cap has been blown off toward the other side of the counter. Inside the rest of the cap is a crater with the outer edge filled with small tentacles that look sort of like bean sprouts. Nothing was moving, and the bubbles were mostly gone. The mushroom's dormant, leaning against one corner of the sink.