NafDaddy

Okay, this is a bit of a long one with a lot of miscellaneous actions, but the really interesting parts are in red...

I stood in a circle with a large group of people at an outdoor celebration of sorts, headed by the owner of the restaurant I work at. He spoke for a while, then we all dispersed to mingle.. however there was a colossal snake slithering around the entire time, often getting close to me. It was about twelve feet high and was extremely wide and long, with huge beady eyes. It was a mottled brown and black color. I told a couple people that I would go and meet the snake, but I knew he could smell fear and it scared me. I walked around a while, talking to DCs and avoiding the huge snake. Eventually I was outside a large tent-corridor a distance from the gathering, and the snake came through. It kept trying to come through various doors, but I would zip them up before it could enter, though I was letting it smell me so that when I came toward it, it would know me and be friendly. A DC distracted me by pointing out a comic behind the snake that I knew explained its back-story, but I couldn't see it clearly.

The snake transformed into a massive gorilla, like King Kong. He charged through the door, grabbed me, and picked me up, taking me a distance away into the night. We spoke a while, and though I can't remember the details, I knew that by talking to me he learned about the concept of death, of which he had been blissfully unaware before. I also knew that he associated the concept with me, which made me feel threatened, though I was acting cool, calm and interesting on the surface. He wanted to show me a trick, as he had apparently spent his life forced into circus work. He threw me lightly into the air, and though I could imagine him tearing me in two with ease, he lightly caught me. I let him throw me again and relaxed myself utterly, and knew pure joy as I knew I was safe in his massive grasp. We went inside, and I was now friends with the snake-ape. There was a council of his owners. I attempted to slip past them, but they offered me a breakfast fajita, which I politely accepted. They began to talk to the proud and insolent Kong, who was newly awakened to the concepts of mortality. One of the chiefs asked, what were you talking about? I responded, we were just talking about life. Technically true, dream self, well played. The gorilla was talking about his past, perhaps his mother had been poached by the corrupt council. They attempted to assuage him with soothing, honeyed words that shuffled the blame from them. One woman turned into a bird and massaged his back with her claws, which he liked. Before I figure out the conclusion, I awoke.


Wake, sleep, dream. I was in a classroom without a teacher. The kids were passing around bowls and bongs and getting ripped, myself included. Then, authority figures entered and demanded we register our drugs, mainly acid, as weed was still illegal. I kept the bubbler I had hidden under a blanket.

I was home again, and my mother left, exhorting me to be moral. I got in a car with some friends and went to a hill near my house to smoke the ganja I had left over from the classroom. We went into a massive trailer and sat in a circle. A couple other friends came in, along with a guy who must have lived there, then they left to go adventuring. I sat and smoked a bit, got bored and left. I came across a group of women playing volleyball in an empty swimming pool, and saw others climbing pine trees. The hill was well populated. I walked down to the university gym and saw more girls playing volleyball, and some guys playing a game. There was food on the sidelines and many morbidly obese players.

Next, I was at a camp or retreat of some sort. We were all hanging out and I was acting a clown, cracking jokes and goofing off. I went to the bathroom, walked in and cleaned a urinal, then walked out. Turned out I was in the ladies restroom! A couple guys followed after me, too. A tall, extremely beautiful woman came up and laughed about the mix-up, and I told her she now had to use the guys, because it was all mixed up. She had writing on her lips. I offered to kiss her, but she asked, right or left? I said, right, and presented my right cheek for her to kiss. Later, we played a game like hide and seek. I decided to hide in a box, but couldn't decide between one or the other side of the room, so I didn't have time to get the box closed, and was immediately caught.

I'm in a magnificent cathedral. I'm with someone, and see a friend about to go play a guitar onstage, and he waves at me. A priest walks up to me, and asks, are you confident?to which I simply say, yes.He leads me to a wall. There is a small, tight mouth, an opening, on the bottom of it, covered in runes and glyphs, wrought in beautiful stone work and pouring out red and orange. It looks like the mouth of Hell. He says something to the effect of, it's good you're confident, you'll need it, or we'll see, I can't remember. I barely fit in the gap, and began a slow facedown descent, using hand-holds on the passage to keep myself from tumbling. I see two scorpions, and wonder, why am I down here? I'm not even Catholic. After a while of indecision, I exit into sunlight and fresh air. Another priest stands there and asks, what you doing? The real challenges are ahead, you must face your demons.I pathetically say I need shoes, look down and I'm wearing them. He extols me to have courage and continue, so I go back into the mouth, down, down, down. I'm on a stair case that's unbelievably cramped, with hundreds of even tinier scorpions that I run over, worrying that one is in my shirt. I'm now in a dark, quiet and misty stone corridor bathed in glowing white and blue. I enter a room to the right, and find myself looking at two animal spirits floating over stone wells. One I can't access, but the other purports to be a mirror of the soul, and speaks proudly and with disdain. From a third person perspective, it consumed me, and I now look like Harry Potter. It was all fire within, and he discussed a Reformation of sorts. Whether the historical one, or a personal one, I don't know.

Then, there's my brother next to me. He has a beautiful amulet and he gives it to me to help me. I thank him, and awaken.

I was with an old music teacher, a phenomenal character and wonderful director, and one of my better high school friends. Someone else was with us as well, and he was describing to me things I could work on, flaws of mine. One was, when you start to talk, you have interesting things to say, but you start out by being BORING. After a while, I went to leave, and my old director gave me a very understanding and penetrating look. I smiled back at him, but I felt fake and a little hurt.

I was back at my old school, a private Christian school. I was a new student, though it was more of a return than my first exposure. As I walked up, a friend's brother gave me a love note from a girl. I said, that's art. He agreed. I was assigned a locker, was given an American flag outfit, and puffed a cigarette an assistant manager of mine was finishing, as a couple people were smoking in the hall. I entered a social studies class, and as I went to choose a seat, I couldn't decide where I fit in. I usually sit in the back so I can see everything, but I wanted to be more focused and thought the middle would be better. I sat in the back anyway. The manager at work was my teacher. I realized I hadn't done the given assignment that everyone else had (man, really took me back to school days), so I slipped out of class. I didn't have my books, either, and decided to retrieve them.

I ended up getting on a bus and traveling down the block a ways with a whole group of other people. The only notable DC was a young, tiny red-headed, blue boy who became scared at one point. I comforted him with a hug. We proceeded to wreck several times, sometimes flipping in the air. Our bus became a semi truck at one point, caught fire, exploded, returned to a bus. I ended up running ahead of the group once we got out. I had lost one of my USA flag shoes, but I had a Vibram on instead. Everyone was fine, because my dreams like safe car wrecks like that. I re-entered my school, and a boy greeted me and said there was naught but a minute left in class, so no point in returning. I showed off my bicycle to him, and a couple friends of mine came in and got food and dishes from a stocked kitchen the school had. We talked about how nice the school had become, a scholastic paradise compared to what it had been.


Wake, sleep, dream. I was on vacation with my family, in town at the beach. We're sitting outside a building, my brother, sister and mother all go inside. I have a large piece of black paper, and I'm writing on it with my finger. It's a message to a woman on Mars. My whole family is going to a colony there, my sister longer than anyone, because it was stated she had been to the Dominican Republic (she does often travel). We return to the house, and I quickly go to the computer to email a woman, perhaps the same one. I wonder at why all I want to think or talk about is dreams (!!) and that it's good that she's my dream guide (!!). Great thing I became, lucid, or not. Missed freebie. Anyway, there's a strange segment of a hologram coming from the email that shows a couple people from school again.

Afterward, or maybe in the email, I'm in a series of music videos. In the one I remember, it was quite hilarious; I was in a flamboyant, red, pimp-like outfit with feather, a hat, the works. I have a gang, a gaggle, a skulk, a pride of people behind me, and we're all carrying drinks. We're facing off with another group. As the leader, I dramatically pour my drink, maybe a beer, on the ground. The rest of my group follows suit, but the drinks from the taller ones fill up the shorter people's cups again so they have to pour them out again. There's another segment I can't remember.

Next, I'm at home. There's a guy about my age with short, blond hair, who calls himself Patrick.. o'Leary, if I remember. He's mowing our lawn, though I end up finishing it. We make conversation, and at one point he says I might not even remember, it's not a big deal, but I had pranked him, or something of that nature. I can't remember and am confused. I ask, did I get you too drunk? He laughs and says never mind, and no. However, there's a strange vibe lingering in the air, like he's being outwardly fake but inwardly analytic. Next door, a cook at work is lying on a driveway looking in a mirror foppishly, sporting a mane of blonde hair that he doesn't have in real life. I say, hey, dude, to him. Patrick says, hey, Tony. We go inside and meet my mother on the way in. She gets a set of keys from Patrick, and is laughing and friendly but says she'll keep him accountable. I have covert plans to maybe offer Patrick some ganja now that my mother's leaving, even though (or due to how) I've quit smoking in recent days (hence the REM rebound). The strange vibe stays around, but we're quite friendly together. Before any more events transpire, I wake, disappointed to miss such a clear and present dream sign as the email.