display | more...
This dream was amazingly long! Unfortunately I couldn't recall all of it. And an interesting thing happened in the end when the dream turned very scary, I was able to decide that I should wake up. And I did.

My parents, me and Tero, the youngest brother, were raking leaves and collecting them. There was also a professor of psychology, mr. Syvänen. I didn't bother too much about leaves and I was playing a ballgame with our dog. I also found a root-stock which look like a human skull and I threw it too and the dog brought it back to me. However, Tero didn't appreciate that I didn't participate in raking; expressing his opposition through Italian strike.
The maple leaves were of some strange importance. They were valuable, don't ask why. As my parents were about to blame me for my idleness I picked up the last leaves from the beach and thus I escaped from the contestation.

We had moved ourselves inside the house of grandpa who died couple of years ago. We went to bed and because there were lack of beds I had to share one with the another brother, Jukka. He pulls out a dimebag and we share a joint. I'm not careful enough and hot ashes drops on the bed. Jukka panics fearing it will set the bed on fire. First I'm too stoned to care but soon I collect the ashes and throw them out of the bed. Then I feel awful: the effect of ganja is very upleasant at this time and I'm thinking giving it up for good.
Nasu, who were smoking with us, aims to burn the bed we are sleeping in. He takes some pieces of paper and throws them randomly all over the bed. I stop him from doing that and we punish him a bit. He has to retreat into a corner to spend his night over there.

Before I fell asleep I note that there are three other men in the room: Petja, his friend and mr. Syvänen. It's quite dark but I can see how Petja's friend stands up and starts peeing on Petja while he's sleeping! Petja only has a stupid grin on his face and he stands up too starting to pee on the back of mr. Syvänen who is standing as well. Mr. Syvänen acts damn cool and turns around. Petja just keeps on pissing. Mr. Syvänen starts lecturing Petja on good and bad behaviour. Very absurd!

Me and Nasu don't like the atmosphere in the room and we go out thinking of sleeping inside Eki's car. Then we have an idea that we should steal it but we are afraid there's a security system in the car. Surprisingly, Bottle-Saarinen arrives and he's very determined to break into the car. He starts with removing the tyres. Me and Bottle-Saarinen climb over a high fence and Nasu throws the tyres over it too. But like out of the blue, policemen arrive and they arrest Nasu. There is one police without a uniform on this side of the fence too but he runs away to call backup. Me and Bottle-Saarinen duck into a ditch and I raise my head to see where the police is going to. However, he just scrambles, turns around, notices my head up and shots with a gun. What a nutter! (It's very unlikely that police in Finland would shoot anybody.) I'm very amazed by his action but luckily the bullet didn't hit the target i.e. my head. It was very close but.
I have to duck back behind the cover and the police comes closer to take a photo. I'm very dissatisfied in myself because I didn't have a balaclava but I think he will lack sufficient evidence in order to beat me in a court. The police reads this from my face and says I will be punished by the law. I note that camera he's using is mine and I become extremely angry.

First Dream:

First off, I should note that I was sick when I went to sleep last night. My first dream occured while I was asleep on a red couch in the living room. I went to sleep around 9:30 PM and woke up about 4:25 AM. My first dream was rather spooky, with a dark, glassy feeling to it. I was in school, wandering around, attempting to find my class. This dream school is very unlike my school, in the fact that this school is dark and glassy, and it bears a strong resemblence to a mall. There are multiple escalators, sliding glass doors, and low light, grey spray painted bulbs. There are also metal detectors, which as I will explain later, are not welecome in my dream.

Now, I'm wandering around this facility, when I suddenly notice a hard lump in my jacket pocket. I pull it out and am shocked to discover it is a very shiny, very deadly-looking, palm-sized .45 pistol.


\\++|.|___________/.\_
\....\/.......................................()
|.....________________()
|====|-\\----|
/====|\___/
|====(
|=====(
\____(

Needless to say, this scares me quite a bit. Luckily for my dream self, there is an electronic saftey trigger gaurd on it, but a school is not a good place to casually carry a gun in! I attempt to hide the gun in the palm of my hand, with great unsucessfulness, however, my dream extras are oblivious to my crime. I decide that the best possible safe place for my gun is my locker. Unfortunately, I cannot find my locker. I search the whole building, but don't find anything. Suddenly, I see somewhere I haven't gone: a very long escalator. I get on, and people quickly fill the steps behind me, ensuring that I cannot go backwards.

AHHHHH! The escalators all end up at METAL DETECTORS!


/me hyperventilates

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit..." Suddenly, I realise that I might have a chance: The portals have no individual gaurds. Instead, they all link to a master terminal, where five guards check for illegal items.

Thinking quickly, and taking advantage of my thinness, I walk to the left of the portal, hoping nobody will notice. Nothing goes off. I'M FREE! I walk quickly away, into a side hallway.

"HEY, YOU! STOP!"

AHHHHH oh shit oh shit I'm caught! I'm forced to blink, as the gaurd coming at me is none other than my old camp counselor, Ricky. Ricky is a six foot three inch guy, who wieghs about 190, giving an impression of leanness. His long stride catches up to mine quickly, and he cuts to the chase: "Do you have a gun, Ben?" I nod, on the verge of tears. "Hand it over." I comply, trying to force out that I really don't know why I have it or how I got it, that I just wanted to prove SharQ's point on explosion to the class. He calls for the school psychologist, who as it turns out, bears a striking resemblence to "Big Boy" on the FOX show, Boston Public. "Big Boy" takes one look at me, suddenly inspecting the gun (Ricky did not give it to him, he simply acquired it), and then silently wrote me a note, saying "Run along. Have a nice day." and hands me the note, and the gun. He smiles a small, knowing smile, and just walks away. I'm so shocked by this that I wake up.



Dream 2:

I have woken up, gotten up off the couch, and wisely gone to bed. Ahh, sweet, sweet, soft, comfortable bed. Mmmmmmm...Soft pillows...*snore*...As opposed to Dream 1, my second dream has a very bright, almost carnival-like atmosphere to it. I play the role of two people: a detached narrator and a slick carnival head honcho with the personality of a second hand car salesman. I am promoting an Annie Oakley-like woman who is a crack knife thrower, and whom I have decided to call knifegirl, just for the hell of it. Her knives are somewhat unique, in the sense that they are two 1.5 inch-long steel blades attached to the end of a five-inch piece of wood, about .75 inches across at the thickest point, .5 inchest across at the thinnest. The blades are about .2 inches thick, and .65 inches across. She can throw these blades with frightening accuracy, to the point of being able to slice a penny in half, while the penny was being thrown in the air. She can make the blade act like a boomerang, spinning around an igloo. At one point, she even manages to pick apples off of a tree using her thrown blades.

I, meanwhile, am making a total ass out of myself. I'm trying to throw the blades, and failing miserably. Most of the time, I don't even get within a few feet of my mark. It creates a very comical contrast, her marksmanship and my bumbling idiocy. Finally, knifegirl and the crowd get tired of me, and knifegirl demonstrates her skill in another weapon: the BB gun. She proceeds to shoot me a couple dozen times, soaking my white shirt with blood. I find that the BBs don't really hurt, they just sting. I flail around like a blind goat, and finally I wake up, relieved of my own foolishness.

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.