GA's DJ

04.07.2010

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

I live in an apartment near a new school campus of sorts. It's five stories high surrounded by a bustling town with churches, monuments and busy roads. My brother and I are roommates and we both have girlfriends with us. Mine is a plump black-haired woman and while nice I'm surprised to find I have absolutely no feelings towards her. We had supposedly gone out for a long time and she was about to leave with her dad to do something for a couple of days. I'm relieved and start to articulate plans to break up with her but am unable to come up with anything that wouldn't completely hurt her feelings. I'm playing some sort of card game when she comes in and asks point-blank if I wanted to come with her on this trip with her father. I feel pressured and mutter out a yes. It was then I realize I don't even know her name and look at an ID card she had nearby. My thoughts were "What would her dad think if I didn't know how to pronounce his daughter's name?" It was something weird and unlike real life so I don't recall the name now. Sometime soon after this I work up the courage to tell her that I want to break up. She takes this with both anger and sadness, and from then on intentionally ignores me. Still, I literally had just met her after all.

My brother Kyle, his girlfriend and I go to the cafeteria in the school complex (complex being a better term than building given its fortress-like size and feel). One wall had a cutout where a stack of hay was piled up probably referencing the dream I had the night before. Rows of tables were set out each belonging to a certain family. The three of us began eating without regard to who the food belonged to and eventually worked our way into a corner where a bunch of pizza was lined up. One lady asked me how I knew the family who brought the pizza. Thinking Kyle might actually know I pointed to him and made up that he was acquainted with a gentleman in a business suit standing nearby. She didn't let it drop there and hailed Kyle over. On being asked Kyle got mad and began yelling so the whole cafeteria could hear that he ate the food of other people so he could get a tax write off. It made sense at the time. Moments after this I left alone.

Being near the top floor I get into an elevator and press to go for the ground level. On the way down the lights go off, the elevator car slants slightly and a loud grating sound fills my ears. It soon becomes apparent that the elevator has stopped and I'm stuck within. I locate the emergency call button. It didn't work at first so I held it down. Red lights flash and an alarm sounds whereupon the elevator doors open. I'm between floors but there's enough space at the top for me to climb up and get free. A muscular man who knew me said he was paying me back a favor (I recall nothing about this) and there I meet up with a few nondescript fictional friends I supposedly knew. I pull out an old large journal to record the happenings. My friends want to go to the ground level and like a complete mook I suggest the elevator. We get in to find the floor opens up in the middle where anyone could fall to their doom. In fact, each level had such an opening floor. I advise the others to hug the wall when one of them, possibly the girl who was with Kyle, falls to the level below. She is unharmed but the floors seem to open up more. Eventually my friends each start falling. Then some chandelier-type fixture from the ceiling comes undone and crashes down. Each friend dies a horribly gory death. Making matters worse I kept rewinding time and watching the same scene over and over with no ability to help. There were a lot more incidents of death and disturbing injuries in this dream but the memory has faded on many of them.

Somehow I make it down the elevator shaft only slightly scathed. Instead of being on the ground level I'm in the basement alone since everyone else was dead. I find an old cassette tape in a nightstand that stood in the center of that sewer-like environ. I began to ponder how using a tape recorder instead of a journal would be safer as I could be more alert-- seems I was writing in my journal when my friends initially fell. I forget how but I manage to weasel myself outside the school complex. I begin to wander the city. I pass by a group of nuns and a rivaling school that was much smaller in size. I take a break in front of a factory on a crate next to a row of bags, cans and broken computer monitors. Writing again in my journal a gruff worker notices me and starts a conversation having noticed I wrote "Act XIII" at the top of the page. I don't feel comfortable talking with him so I find a way to slip away.

It becomes night. I lost my shirt somewhere and the rain feels cold. Some people look at me and mutter how the nuns wouldn't accept a poor man like myself. I come to a point where I must cross two six-lane roads. All I can see are oncoming headlights and the silhouette of a GIANT TARANTULA WALKING ON TWO LEGS creeping up behind me. Freaked I then must cross a busy street and stay clear of the rapidly approaching spider. On multiple occasion I swear I feel the fangs of the tarantula all the while dodging speeding cars in a frenzy. I make it to the other side and into a small supermarket. Conveniently a doctor, my dad and a few others were there to receive me. The doctor asks me strange questions to confirm I haven't been poisoned by the mutant spider. One involved seeing how well I could pray.