She shakes me awake. No classes on Friday, not for me, but she's got an 8:10. Expository writing, or "expos" as it's called. The dream slips away; I try to get a few words down in notepad before my brain finishes booting up (and, in the process, overwriting the random noise of the dream with more structured data.

brick wall falling down
Proventil tube
retainer came out

It wasn't intended to be haiku. It's not, I realize, but it'll do for a 3rd-grade teacher who expects no more than syllabic conformity.

I'm running away from some Disneyesque scene, accosting random strangers on line for rides and asking them where the rainbows are; they keep telling me that they've all been used up. I donned a Mickey Mouse outfit and was swimming across the EPCOT lagoon. I heard a loud rumbling, and screamed as a brick wall fell on me.

The lawn in back of my house. I'm watching myself walk in circles, using a Proventil inhaler. This goes on for what seems like hours, until suddenly I (observed) stop short. I (observer) smile, and take my retainer out. (This is quite odd. I've never worn a retainer, as far as I know.)

... and then I woke up

I had a dream last night that I wrote a paper for school. The paper was called “The speed and force of impact of LRM against Mech armor in the Battletech universe.” I turned this paper into my Analysis of Algorithms professor. I didn’t think too much of it.

The next thing I know me and my family are driving to pick up my brother at one of the buildings on campus. As we pulled up I saw a large crowd gathered outside the building. I got out of the car and went to find my brother. I found him pretty quickly he said one of the professors inside was looking for me. I remember thinking me, one of my professors even knows my name. So I fought my way through the crowd into the building. I saw my professor and said “I heard you where looking for me.” He then went on to tell me that my paper had won a contest. And that people wanted to make it into a game, movie, and they where going to just show the paper itself on TV tonight slowly page by page. He wanted my permission to submit the paper to a new contest. I said sure and then went back to the car. I told my brother and parents about all that had happened. My Mom said she would rather wait and read the real paper than to try and read it on TV tonight.

Next I was standing in a software store looking at software when I see this new Mechwarrior game that had my name on the back. I was like “Cool this must be the game based on my paper.” I bought the game and took it home. I was in a hurry to get it install and played able because while everyone was making this big deal about my paper I didn’t know actually what it said. I got it installed and started to play it. All of a sudden the music changed from this Techno beat to the sound of the Texas A&M Corp matching band. I remember thinking this was very odd. After that I woke up and it turns out the band was practices just about 300 yards form my room.

r / rrrrr

  • Late for school and panicky. Deborah was in the lobby when I dragged in the stubby Christmas tree. She looked at it and me with disapproval. In the bathroom there was a boy sitting blankly in my stall and I pretended to be invisible as I peed. Dusik was MAD that I was late for the spelling test. The words were dear, Laplander, electric decimal.
  • Sally was flirting with one of the kids, which made me sick and nervous, she's in her 50s. She yanked a red Twizzler away from him and twirled it like a lariat.   Do you know what a lariat is?   He nodded.   A lasso.   She smiled and cooed and ruffled his hair. Someone asked me if people ever make out in cars in the parking lot. I had a lie all ready but was distracted.
  • in the pool with all the kids. We cordoned them off so they wouldn't bother us. Deborah spoke to me in hushed tones about some joke I'd told the kids. Inappropriate, she hissed.
  • The beautiful lesbian in front of the school wouldn't talk to me
  • I lied and told Alex I'd gotten an email telling me to read his new book. He pestered me for details -   an email from WHO??? what did it SAY???, I said, hoping he wouldn't check.
  • I walked her through the empty city, talking sense to her and kicking leaves
  • Trying to find a parking spot at the printer's. It took me about half an hour to park. Went inside and snagged a gold hand truck, knowing the secret was to look nonchalant about it. The trip back outside was longer than the way in, and on the escalator I was confronted by my old mean bookstore manager, who sniffed in my direction and wouldn't speak to me. Suddenly I felt stupid for taking the hand truck - I only had one box to bring in. John C. was there and pestered me as usual about reading the book.
  • The good guys and the bad guys were on the back of the boat and I swear I only turned my back for a MINUTE but when I came back, they'd killed Mozart.

    He was gone, anyway, and the fishline was spooling out behind the boat.   We couldn't do anything,   said the main bad guy.   It all happened so fast.

    I was silent for a moment.   Your master plan is lacking. But your MYSTERY plan - now, that shows promise.   My quick eye had caught a parchment in tupperware. They were going to affix it to the line and say it was the only retrievable item from Mozart's drowning, that his body was lost but they'd found the parchment he was grasping. His last words. I read it; it was some bullshit about Napoleon.   Whatever, it's your fake murder.   I went back to the front of the boat, disgusted.

  • It's Chinese New Year on the houseboat. I wanted to bring Chinese Cookies but couldn't find them in any of the markets. All I have is a large blueberry muffin with butter. My cousin is on the deck fishing, I go out to see him. It's cold, dark and stormy. "Don't fall in," I warn. "I'll be fine." He lunges forward, I reach out to grab him. "I'll be fine," he says while reeling in a log. I take my hands away and a giant squid comes up out of the water and pulls him in. I use his fishing rod to distract it, it grabs me instead. Using a piece of sharp iron I grabbed from the deck I sever its arms. It follows us back to the deck and I drive the piece of metal into it's head.

    I wake up wondering why there was no ink.

  • The sleazy guy was running for Prime Minister. His campaign manager was known to us, he did something bad to a child but no one remembers what it was. It wasn't sexual assault, it was something stupid and juvenile. The sleazy guy has greasy hair, a tiny moustache, and a green sweatshirt with holes in it. The other candidates are wearing suits. He tries to pick some old lady's hand off the counter while she's writing to shake and introduce himself. She gets very irate. Marvellous people-skills.
My grandmother's house had somehow moved to Barcelona, into one of the side streets off of Republica. She had a dead squirrel in her pool, and I had to burry it. In her backyard there was a place where her old cat, blackie, was buried. I seemed to have forgotten that, and uncovered the cat's remains - the smell was overwhelming and reached inside the house.

Another one of my responsibilities was selling her old computer, for which I went across the street to my old computer teacher's office. I was informed that he wasn't home and that I should email opendoor.waynedivorced@(forget).org.

Jason had built a secret base in the mountains, and I was shown with an overhead view of the concourse. I used my beat up Ford Taurus to race to the cave. In there, however, I ran into my dad, who was complaining about my grandfather breaking something of his of personal value. He mentioned suing him. That made me sick.

In my dream, I was being held captive in a mental hospital that used to be the gym locker room of the middle school I went to. The floors were green marble and the walls were spotless white tile. Countless doctors and nurses were holding me against some machine while others threw chunks of banana at me until I said what they told me to say. The phrase most often forced upon me was "I love Big Brother." Towards the end, I actually did love Big Brother, whoever he was supposed to be. Some weird 1984 memories I suppose.

During all this, I was waiting for my boyfriend to visit. He never showed up, so the doctors and nurses continued their torture. When Aaron finally called, I bitched him out for not coming to see me as he had promised. It turned out his stepsister had stolen his parking space, so he couldn't drive. Naturally I forgave him.

The road is icy, it's been snowing for days. There's a shiny gleam on the road and I know I should slow down. There's cars ahead of me and some behind. We're all going to the same place. I don't know who they are.

My car begins to slide. I think for a moment, I don't know what to do. I've never driven in snow. Should I slam on the breaks? Should I turn to the side? I just go with it.

I crash onto the side of the road. There's others cars, all crashed on the side of the road. Stopped and still.

My car is okay. I'm standing outside of it. I'm not hurt. I ask a man a few feet away to help me. He picks up the car and sets it on the tires.

I'm in a house. A house I've never seen. It's my house, and my parents are there. My dad just brought a dog home. He doesn't like dogs. It looks more like a cat, a big fat cat. I go to sit down on the couch, next to a young man I've never seen. He looks like an Eskimo. He's my parent's guest. Two other dogs are laying on the couch, and I push them aside, as if they weigh nothing.

My sister Barbara calls out from the other room and tells me the dog's name is Aaron. The name of my ex-boyfriend. But she'll call him Ernie for short, the name of her ex boyfriend. "Ernie, Ernie, Ernie," she says. I look over at the counter. My other sister is there now. "I hate Barbara and I wish she would die," I told my other sister. Barbara walks back into the room and asks what I said. "Nothing," I say, "I'm just bitching."
I had a dream last night that I owned two other dogs (besides my puppy, Tiger). One was an Alaskan Husky and the other one looked like the mac and mutley dog. Very strange. Each dog had a toy with a squeaker in the middle of it, and they would wrestle and bite these toys until they went "squeak." It was very cute. But towards the end of the dream, all three dogs started squeaking their toys together, in some sort of orchestra, and they were looking at me very strangely...

it was almost evil.

I made Dr. Dre cry.

Dre and I were hanging out on his giant pimpin' yacht thing and we were having a fine time discussing life and happiness and things of that nature, when, all of the sudden, the boat came to a jarring, grinding halt. We had run into something, and much to our distress, the boat began to sink.

I find myself among many pieces of flotsam from the sunken ship. Dre is unconscious, draped over a piece of floating wreckage. I look around in the debris and find a small suitcase full of hundred-dollar bills. I take the piece of luggage and swim to shore.

I go to a bank to deposit my money into my savings account. And through the door Dre comes and walks up to me. He is still visibly shaken by the wreck. Apparently he has lost all his belongings in the wreck and now was homeless and broke. He asks me what I'm doing at the bank. I turn to hide the suitcase behind me, in hopes of him not seeing it, but it was too late. "Hey, that looks like my money-suitcase." "Oh, what an odd coincidence." "Wait a second...there's water dripping out of the bottom of that thing! That is my suitcase!" "Ohhhhh, so THIS is your's?" "You were trying to hide that money from me! I thought we were friends!" He then broke down and started crying.

I'm not really guilty about making him cry though. I never did like Dr. Dre that much

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