Dream Diary

I apologize for taking a three week break from writing anything. I've been a combination of busy and drained. I found a way that might allow me to create a daily posting consistently. I've been writing down my dreams when I remember them. I do this immediately upon waking from the dream, when I'm still in a semi-conscious state. Reading it later made me laugh. I hope it makes you laugh.

January 31, 2009

I was in a somewhat familiar area at night and was tired. I was with Megan and we were in this automated open car that was traveling down a road that was similar to River Road in Edgewater, New Jersey. Megan decided to get off the vehicle to do something, but told me she’d meet me wherever I decided to lodge. I felt unsafe, but she pushed a large red button on the dashboard. When it was pressed, it made a ding and a sound of a provocative woman’s voice said “We’re comin’ for you baby”. I thought it was so hilarious so I pushed it repeatedly. Megan and I laughed, but then she went to the gas station because she wanted tortilla. My ride began to take me through a really raunchy part of town. There were modern day bordellos up and down the streets with weird signs describing in “not so subtle” ways what things each place offered. One had a sign on the front that read something like “Bad Day? Lost your Blackberry? Found Out your Date is a Transvestite? Do Her Here!”

I thought it was annoying, but, for some reason, had no idea, as far as I now know, that I was dreaming. As I was taken by this vehicle through this prostitution city, it instantly turned to day and I had not yet found a place to lodge and Megan was not back yet. I got off my vehicle and, as I reached to get my suitcase, the vehicle was now a giant Crayola box with a mouth that had scary, sharp teeth. It drooled weirdly so I thought ‘Fuck the suitcase’.

I was in a motel room. I never checked in. This was weird. George W. Bush was sitting on the couch. My mom and dad were talking in the kitchen area. ‘Wow. What a coincidence’, I thought, neglecting the fact that there was something strange about George W. Bush sitting on my motel room couch. I noticed the eating table had broken shackles dangling from it. I asked my mom why there were shackles on my eating table. She told me that Bush was keeping prisoners there. I asked her why he was keeping prisoners in a motel room, shackled to a table. She told me that he kept them there because those were the types of prisoners who didn’t talk when Bush wanted answers.

Megan was still not back yet. My dad started passionately telling me how great a man Anwar El Sadat was, but then he started telling me, just as passionately, that Sadat was a Nazi. This made no sense. I told my mom that I didn’t like the wallpaper in the room, so she told me to wear a shower cap. I put one on and my parents disappeared along with the bad wallpaper, surprisingly.

I was mad at Bush for sitting on my couch and for keeping prisoners in my motel room, so I decided to blow a hole through the ground and have a bomb go off that would blow up the couch. I had no intention of harming him. I just wanted him to be sitting, inconveniently, on a couch that had been blown up by me. As I was doing the rigging of the explosives, I began to narrate, in my head, the letter of protest I wanted Bush to find after the explosions. It went something like “When you find this, I will have already blown a hole in the floor and escaped through it. I hope your exploded couch feels nice. You shouldn’t shackle prisoners to my table anymore.” Feeling as though I had achieved something, the floor blew up. I jumped through a hole that led to my backyard in Oakville. I saw Megan walking with a paper bag. I told her that we needed to run. We heard and felt a second explosion. It must have been the couch that Bush was sitting on, because Secret Service agents started tickling Megan and made her drop her paper bag, which had been carrying bagels and metal spoons. I woke up.

I would like to thank George W. Bush, Anwar El Sadat, mom, dad and Megan for participating in my weird dream. Thank you all.