GA's DJ

06.07.2010

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

It began on muddy waters of an ocean (no idea why the ocean was muddy) with two giant engine-propelled rafts moving while facing each other and keeping a consistent distance apart. Each raft had four players. one was a driver, another a turret gunner and two near the back a rifleman, possible Master Chief from Halo, and an RPG holder. I was the latter in the back right corner where the rocky shore was close to my right flank. I recall running up and popping off rockets that killed a lot of my opponents. I only had three shots though and ran for whatever little cover I could find when the opponent RPG holder lobbed rockets towards us. I recall getting slain.

Later that afternoon on the beach I came before a five-story Japanese style building on the shoreline with dozens of docks branching out from it in all directions. Turns out it was a research center. My two younger cousins were running around inside as it was their birthday. Stumbling upon their presents all on a giant table I find my mom there and try opening one of the small black boxes. Surprisingly she doesn't get mad at this.

Later I run into a very old looking man with decaying teeth and only some hair remaining. He recognizes me in amazement yet I do not. I pick my brain and realize he was a teacher a few years ago. He asks how I still looked so incredibly young to which I respond I'm the son of the student he remembers. He does not question further and neither do I seem to question the reason I've (or he has) apparently leapt ahead in time. He takes me down a set of stairs into his secret laboratory that's really just a bright white carpeted area with a hot tub installed and a bunch of workers chatting around said tub. There was even a sink in the corner with a Dexter's Laboratory toy and a sliding glass door where you could look out upon the ocean.

Leaving, I end the dream walking along the planks over the sand where the place is now bustling with thousands of young adults. They're all talking about how today was the last day of school. Some students mistake me as one who'll join them on some field trip. I feel kind of bad that I can't share their happiness but shrug it off.

05.07.2010

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

The dream began in a classroom on a stool by a high brown table. My old high school friend Matt D. was there and the teacher was before a small chalk board. She was white-haired and scrawny and began teaching on a subject that made absolutely no sense using bogus terms. Eventually I ask what she's talking about only to have her get really pissy with me. I mutter to Matt that I'll have to drop this class who replies he will too. The rest of the students seem to have no issue following along. Later the teacher has everyone spell out a word and change it to capitol letters, noting how the "stems have changed." I thought this part easy but somehow I missed the entire point as it related to some imaginary complex mathematical principal. I tell Matt how frustrated I am to continually get paired with terrible teachers who never take the time to actually teach. I then remind him how last semester at UofL caused me chronic depression for over two months.

After class a fellow student comes up and tells us we have to visit the counselor on Thursday for lunch tickets and Matt exclaims we don't have that long to waste. I say we must get a new class by Tuesday, being tomorrow. I part ways and go into a lobby of sorts that reminds me of the interior of a Busch Gardens building. It's dark and rainy out the windows and it dawns on me that I'm back at JCC. I place my red backpack on a ledge where the white-haired teacher storms past, rummages through my backpack, finds a dollar bill near the top, seems to get bored and leaves without taking the bill. Someone who witnessed the scene laughs.

Eager to go get a new class I realize my next one begins in fifteen minutes. I look at a schedule to find it's some sort of "Justice" class at the one-hundred level. I find and read a description about how one learns to become an action girl or action guy. These crime fighters can phase into an astral realm. Perfect for stealthy operations. I see that the class is in the "Special Interest" building. I picture in my head Southeast Christian Church (shoutout to a dream I had possibly years ago) but wish to confirm it. I run up and ask a man but am interrupted by a girl who wants his attention. I wait only to find the man has transformed into a woman on looking again. This time I use the term "ma'am" only to get a "wish I knew" response. I return to my backpack. When I try to pick it up it collapses apart and books fly everywhere. I sigh, getting out a PB&J sandwich and wishing JAH still went to school with me, at this point too flabbergasted to gather my belongings together. An older lady sitting in a chair watches me. I learn she herself is an action girl. I feel a legitimate excitement for my next class, however, but I'll never know if it was any good seeing as how I woke up.