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    The Donnie Darko Dream

    by , 10-24-2011 at 04:36 AM (547 Views)
    10.23.2011
    Coming from an earlier dream, I am with a couple very young friends, running through a muddy pond-sized puddle. I avoid some deep spots to make sure I donít wind up drowning myself, since I canít swim, and run through shallow waters with the group to join a group of unfamiliar older adults on a lawn on the other side. I suspect they are of some relation to me, but I donít actually know any of them.

    Lead by a tall man among them, they are reciting some long historic quote which I recognize but havenít memorized. When theyíve finished I walk around a bit and overhear someone asking another how to install Linux on their computer Ė they ask, ďdo you have to use a CD?Ē I can answer their question, but I feel like I need to drive somewhere. After thinking about it a moment, I choose not to interject into his conversation, and hop in a silver mini-SUV and drive off the lawn, down a driveway that has appeared where the pond was earlier.

    I stop at the road (also replacing the aforementioned pond), still able to hear the would-be Linuxerís questions. I think about driving off like Iíd planned to, then I throw the car in reverse, hop out, and push the car by its hood backward to the group of people, intent on helping out. (Somehow Iím able to drive the car without operating the steering wheel, but I think nothing of it.)

    When I arrive back at the group, I push the car away and find that theyíve all gone silent. One elderly man, an ex-sailor possibly a veteran of military service, stands from his lawn chair and approaches me, and begins reading a script. It reads like a funeral speech, or something youíd hear on Memorial Day. The manís son was killed/died early in his young life, and the group gathered every year to remember him. However, the man began directing the speech at me, going off the script to tell everyone that I am dishonouring his memory, ďstanding there looking all cool, wearing the shoes he could have worn.Ē

    His words were painful for both of us, but the sadness and guilt I was feeling was quickly replaced with anger. I became thoroughly pissed and pulled off my sunglasses, disgusted that he was publicly blaming me for his sonís death. He continued to rant, both of us standing there face-to-face with no more than three feet between us, and I could feel the situation about to escalate. He pulled out an oversized handgun, loading it with a single shotgun shell. Someone came up from behind me and tried to talk him down, as did I, but to no avail. I tried to get closer to him with a kind of diagonal sidestep in the hopes of disarming him, while making it difficult for him to aim at me, but I wound up twirling as I moved. Obviously, I start to freak out because Iím moving much more slowly than Iíd intended to, and am expecting to feel a bullet break my skin. However, the ex-sailor appears to have turned into a short dark-skinned boy and is having trouble figuring out how to operate the gun. Since I canít run, I twirl a couple more times, and someone manages to stop him Ė I donít see how exactly.

    I find myself on the road in the silver mini-SUV, and Iím barreling down the road. I am on the phone with the boy that saved my life, and I excitedly laugh that the scene Iíd just witnessed reminded me of the movie Donnie Darko. I ask the boy on the phone if heís seen Donnie Darko, and explain the comparison: if I hadnít started down the driveway in the SUV, then returned to try answering the Linux guyís question, I might not have survived Ė it made sense in the dream. He agrees with a laugh, and the dream ends.


    Earlier dream fragments:
    I am with Chelsea listening to an old woman talking. She is switching between French and English, with a heavy Mexican accent to all her words. I interpret the French words for Chelsea where I recognize them.

    Iím on a train which is driving on the freeway, high above a big city, and the door next to me is open to allow me a clear line of sight to the people driving cars next to us. One person is driving what appears to be a blue-coloured variation of the Dalek suit from Doctor Who, and I call it a TARDIS (without realizing my mistake). Iím incredibly entertained by seeing this as a functioning vehicle.

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    Updated 10-24-2011 at 04:42 AM by 29957

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    non-lucid

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