I am unacquainted with the world of the forum, but the final straw has been drawn. I regularly vivid, absurd dreams and I hope that one among you kind and clever folk may have some snazzy interpretation of but one of them. Read as much as you will.

THE DREAM:

The earliest part I can remember is enlisting in the Air Force through my college. I scored rather high on the ASVAB, and the recruiter vowed that I would be granted a coveted research position and never worry about holding a gun. I happily signed the contract. I was flown out to Afghanistan, positioned in a cave full of US soldiers protecting a fort, and told to do research on the helicopter that would be firing upon us, kindly provided a stalagmite for cover. Pissed, I had no choice but to take pictures and notes of the helicopter and infantry besieging us, bullets whizzing past my head. The armed US soldiers fell, but the buffet of firing continued. As I poked my head out, an armed woman spotted me and took chase into the cave after me. I ran like a sissy into some kind of dark room, fumbling for the combat knife that I was so kindly given, but my conscience could not bring me to attack them. Three women, young and armed, knocked me unconscious.

I awoke in a white hallway full of commotion, no shirt on and badly bruised. When I stood up, a young man grabbed me by the arm and pulled me up to a clerk. She took my name, social, and favorite color and told me to step into a queue that extended for a mile. People were standing there for various reasons: one woman lost her purse, one man requested a song, and another complained about bad service. When I got to the front, the man from before told the woman up there that I was a prisoner of war. I told her that I was supposed to be on a research assignment and fired at none of their troops. She understood, told me to fill out a questionnaire in their computer lab, and congenially escorted me from the building. I asked her where I was; she said WIU (the initials of my college, Western Illinois University) and thrust me out the door. I stood in the parking lot, shirtless and confused, and noticed that the sign read "Western Iowa University." Of all places.

I called my girlfriend and she picked me up, wanting to know what the hell I was doing in Iowa. She had not known that I had even joined the military. When we got back to Illinois, I handed the woman at the registrar's office a Post-It note that Iowa had told me to give them. She read it and told me that I had been fined $2,500, immediately payable on my student account. I exclaimed that I was on a mission for the goddamn Air Force, but was sent back to my residence hall.

That's the first part of the dream. The next part I can remember is the good part:

I was being briefed on a criminal gang that had started to form around the small college town of Macomb, IL. What this has to do with the Air Force, I do not know, but I was in charge of the investigation. A faction of young ninjas had started to hold gatherings in the woods during the evening, those of which I observed from above, although I was not there. Their attendance grew significantly each night. Next, I was the head ninja of the group - who happened to be Billy Idol - prowling the streets at night, observing myself (Idol) from the front. I (...Idol) was running down the street to what would be the biggest ninja meeting of all. I ran through a trail off of the side of the road, into the woods. My view zoomed out and I saw a large clearing where many students had gathered. My aerial view revealed that in the middle of a field surrounded by pines and maples, several tall bamboo-like trees had grown, but they had been artistically chopped down to create a heart-shaped wall that extended around the perimeter of the meeting place.

In the Shape of a Heart by Jackson Browne played in my mind: "It was a night I won't forget/Through the sorrow and regret/And the shape of a heart." Jackson Browne inspired Billy Idol to form a colony of rogue ninjas that he had trained with malicious intent. Tonight was to be a showdown.

I (now myself again) somehow covertly flew in on a helicopter and was assisted by the Army in securing the perimeter where the ninjas trained. I charged into the heart-shaped enclosing and told them that they were surrounded and would shut the ceremony down. Idol ordered his faction to attack. What ensued a full-out student-ninja-on-military rumble. Even General Patton was there. Idol and I went after each other - he with a samurai sword, I... with my trusty combat knife. We ran up the wall all ninja-like and flew through the air fighting like it was a damn anime cartoon. The rumble eventually came to a close, and those still standing on both sides enjoyed hors d'oeuvres and soft drinks. I, now a ninja, stood there talking to another fat ninja guy with a beard eating Doritos and Billy Idol and eventually decided it was time to leave. Everyone was exhausted and the campus transportation service had sent some buses to bring everyone back to their dorms. As I walked out with a friend of mine who lives on my dorm floor, I suggested that we walk back. He declined; he got on the bus, I quickly got away. I heard in the distance over a loudspeaker the president of the university telling the bus passengers that they had no reason to expect a bus ride home - many of the bus drivers had been slashed at with swords trying to break up the fight. I got away without hearing the rest of this lecture.

As I was walking up a hill, I heard a woman (who was a counselor at my high school, though I'd never met with) call me from behind to get on the bus. I turned around and told her that I had nothing to do with the situation, that I was just walking by. She looked at me with disbelief, and I spread my arms, started walking backwards in the direction I was headed, and said, "What? Prove that I was there." She said, "I can't. But it's cold out, Josh. Why don't you cut through this building here on your way back to your dorm? It's quicker." Hesitantly, I obliged, and she and I headed in together, chatting. I headed for the exit, but it was locked. She told me that, before I could leave, I had to first beat three levels of Super Metroid. I then saw myself as Samus (from the video game, Metroid) from the side, and attempted to beat the level.

Then I woke up.

THE FACTS:

I am not and never have been a member of the military. I am a fan of neither Billy Idol nor ninjas. I have never played Super Metroid.

THE QUESTION:

What do you make of it?