Grischkaja's world of dreams and mysteries

It's an half-lucid dream. I know that I'm part of something dreamlike, but I don't control anything, not even where I go.

I'm in the nearest big city, 8 km away from my home town. I'm in a street which I drive nearly all day past. The houses aren't colourful anymore, but they look very desolated and grey. There are a lot of people going around. They look really sad or depressive.I realize that this has to be a dream, but strangely, I don't want do control anything. I somehow know that I'm in my novel that I'm writing. So I just wanted to know how my imagination continuous my work that I'm writing.
I follow the group of the people. They are all rushing to an hill that is outside from the town. Outside the town everything is brownish, grey. There are no plants, no trees. The ground is polluted with plastic and such stuff.
We stand there and I see a plane, a Boeing or something like that falling from the sky. It's burning and everyone from the town came to see its explosion. The burning plane crashes in a group of people standing to close to the impact zone. This fact makes everyone happy and joyful, because they wanted some distraction. I'm a bit shocked, maybe a bit scared too.
But the frighting thing just came afterwards: it seemed that there were survivors jumping out the plane ad crawling on the ground. They are burning alive. The place smells funny, a mix from burning electronics and barbecue. I'm disgusted. The other people are clapping in their hands and started to talk about the crash.
DC A: Yeah that's what I call terrific!
DC B: All right. Today's crash was even better than the one last week

I awake. I was really excited ad wrote everything down and continued the story until the morning lol. The rest of the day I was tired