weirdo dreams...

(pic from here.)
i woke up this morning with an army of bagpipers marching outside my window. at 10am. i would have slept through, i was having a pretty intense dream. pete woke me up, pushing my door open, saying "as if this is happening!" hey man, they woke you up, why are you waking me up? life. in the dream, i was writing a story. strange layers to this. in my dream, i'm writing a story, and visualizing the story as it happens. i love it when i'm actually being creative in my dreams. writing things. singing songs. freestyle rapping. i never remember the things i have created in my sleep. i think the story might have pretty good from the few lines of text i semi-glimpsed in that moment between sleep and wake. the only thing i remember now was something about describing the feeling of holding a gun in my left hand. doing something else with my right. not sure...

more strange dreams, i may or may not have already posted these, i'm not sure...

my towel in the park dream...

i am at doidge park, in london, ontario. standing on top of the hill, at the waterloo st. entrance, where the little side street ends and the hill goes down into the park. [obviously, most of you will have no idea what i'm talking about.] there is some sort of race going on around the block that surrounds the park. people in the park as well. there is something sort of disturbance across the park. i am with some other people. we start running towards it. running down the hill, i realize that i am only wearing a towel. i fall, the towel comes off, and i realize other people are wearing only towels as well. [there is more, but i can't remember...]

some weirdo crazy dream...

walking down the street, in a parking beside an apartment building, there are a few moving vans there, with people unloading couches and setting them up in the parking lot. people are sitting on them. it looks like a party is going on. then i see what looks like a parade float, but with more random old couches all over it, and people sitting on the float. i jump on the front. it's a birthday party or something. in the parking lot, they are building more floats with all the couches. i am sitting on the float, with my feet dangling off the front. we are driving through traffic. swerving left and right. then we're going over a wooden bridge, with three separate lanes, with dividers between all of them. we swerve into the lane on the left. i see a dog in the water below us, swimming, desperately trying to make it to a nearby rock. off the bridge, we are now in water. we are a boat/float. my foot catches on a wave, and i am pulled under, into the water. caught on something, i struggle. my foot feels broken. then i am on a little commune. people are tending to my foot. there are lots of little tents and gardens and vegetable plots all over. people are planting seeds. tending to their crops. an old man is looking at my foot. there is a purple stripe across my foot, we are examining it. [i am examining the foot as if it it not mine, as it is right in front of me, even though i know the whole time that it is my foot.] we conclude that the foot caught a wave and was slammed into the bottom of the boat, snapping it. my foot is being wrapped up, and i look around. i see ***** walking back from a garden, looking angry, and i hear somebody saying that she is pissed off because somebody else's garden had crossed the line into hers. they decide they will talk about it later. more people are there that i know. ***** and *****. i wake up.

my fucked up funeral dream...

this is one dream i hate to share;
as i found it deeply disturbing...

i am at a funeral for *****. i am sitting in a chair, overlooking a little hill, where the funeral is taking place, people on my left and right in a row of chairs. i can't take it. i start freaking out. i stand up, pick up my chair, and start smashing it into the ground, kicking at the air, screaming and crying at the top of my lungs, insanely upset at the unfairness of this young person's death. loving this person so much, frustrated at the random cruelty of life. raging. the dream then switches completely, i am in ***** and *****'s house [not the same house they live in in real life, but i can tell in the dream it is their house], sitting on the couch, talking to ***** and laughing at the funny things kids say. the family is all around. everything feels fine. it is a short dream, but it goes back and forth in these blurry flashes between this tragic funeral and this happy family get-together...

i woke up at 5am in a panic. i almost called to wake ***** and ***** up to check on ***** and ***** to make sure everything was alright, but for some reason i had this feeling that it was okay, that it was just a dream...

but my history of experiencing foretelling dreams had me writhing about this one...

if it happens again, i will call...

that's it for now. more stupid bar stories to come. it's been a strange few weeks up here in bayfield...