For the past two nights, I've had disturbing dreams, mostly for the reason that I am so accepting of my fate in these dreams. Kind of horror movie-esque, really, mixed with ghost stories. So, I don't remember what Tuesday night's frightfest entailed, but last night, I was on a trip. I was with three blonde girls, who packed their things. We went away somewhere, maybe somewhere warm, and minor drama ensued. I remember watching us from above, staring at the half-circle of the four of us standing around our bags, heads bowed. The girls were each different, and I knew one of them well, but I can't recall names, and they are certainly not real people I know. We went to a sort of between-flight place on our way elsewhere, which morphed into my back porch. The first 'night' we stayed there, the girls and I were outside when creepy, pale zombie-ghosts came up to us and tried to touch us to do who knows what. We bolted back inside and the things were gone. Then it was the next 'night' and our bags were left outside. How did I know it was a different night? It's a dream. I wanted to get our things, because there was a man that came leaping acrobatically from one end of the porch to the other. I had something dental hygiene related in my mouth that prevented me from speaking or making much noise; it had been there for a while. I waited until he was gone, then opened the heavy glass door, went to get the things, until I saw him, in his red-and-black clothes, come running at me from the woods. I ran for the door, couldn't get it open, tried to yell, but I couldn't get breath or sound to come out. He grabbed me,then was startled by some loud noise off screen. I was able to open the door and draw it closed while he was distracted, but he pounded on it once he saw it was shut. The other girls were either asleep or uncaring. And our stuff stayed outside.
Then it was magically midday, the way only dreams and edited film can be. There was some enormous sort of celebration at a field to the upper left of our porch. Fire-eaters, teams playing games, my dad suddenly there watching it all. Our cooler to take on our trip was out there, and people were taking from it, that much I remember. I was upset, but Dad said we could always restock. It was the idea of thievery that bothered me more than anything, I'm sure. Anyway, night fell, and I was outside getting something, when one more zombie-ghost came up. It was Jodie Foster.
Yes, Jodie Foster. Her eyes were wide, her skin pale, her hair medium-brown and tied half-up half-down. HEr face was either decaying or scarred near her hairline and on her cheek. She wore a dark robe or dress. She gripped my arm, fighting back vomit or possibly trying to catch enough afterlife-breath to speak. Then I realized two things:
1. They were trying to communicate with us, tell us something essential.
2. Her hand was warm on my arm.
She finally got her mouth open, started to speak-
-There was a loud buzz. My phone getting a text message. I woke up, realized it was 8:58 and my CD alarm clock despises me, and proceeded to rush around to get to work.
Lovely, yes-no?
Temporary Soundtrack: Well, obviously, I Had a Dream from TBS.Quote Trapped in My Head: Chomh sean leis an cheo agus níos sine faoi dhó.What I Learned Today: Nollaig means 'December' (or 'Christmas') in Irish Gaelic.
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