...from the dark corners of my mind...

DJ Log: February 9, 2013 – 6:00AM (USA Eastern)
• NON-DREAM • NOTES • DREAM • LUCID •

I'm visiting with the folks, trying to sleep on a roll-away cot on the living room floor. The house is right next to a truck stop or some type of fueling station. I can see a truck parked at the edge of the lot closest to the house. I reach over and press the reset button on the computer because the screen keeps coming up blank white. Suddenly, a voice speaks from my Bluetooth headset which is laying on the desk. I turn off the headset and he's still talking. I pull the battery out of the phone and the voice continues. I get up and throw the headset across the room, then I see the guy standing in front of the window.

As I'm standing there trying to figure out what's going on, my folks wake up and walk through the room, talking about some kind of sandwiches that they're making in the oven. I follow them through the kitchen area, then I walk out into the other room. When I look up, I see the guy standing in front of the window. He reaches up and opens the window and climbs in while retrieving a small .22 revolver from his pocket and starts to walk back the hallway toward the bedrooms. I snatch the gun from his hand and fire the two rounds that were in it at him. He falls face-down on the floor. I yell to my dad, “Give me a gun.” and he hands me a junky old gun that doesn't work. Again I yell, “Give me a loaded gun that works.” He hands me a single bullet which I load into the gun. I walk up to the guy and shoot him in the back of his head. The bullet leaves a little mark on his head, but doesn't really do much of anything. I struggle with the gun for a moment to try and get another bullet into the chamber. It looks like a revolver, but it has a canister of bullets on the side kind of like a paintball gun. I try and shake a round into the chamber, but it just doesn't want to work right.

My dad walks out of the bedroom and as he passes, I tell him that I made a mess in the living room. He replies, “Like, OK...” I say, “What are we going to do with this?” He says, “I guess we'll have to carry him outside somewhere.” He walks up and looks in the room, looks around for a bit, then keeps on walking. As he walks by the body, he says, “You didn't get him in the head, you shot him in the face.” I said, “No, I shot him in the back of the fucking head, but this junky-ass gun didn't really work.”

Becoming a bit aggravated, I tear the canister off the side of the gun and manually load the revolver chambers. I walk back to the guy and shoot him In the head again several times. I say, “I think I got him this time.”, then I wake up.