A Dream Birthed By Oxycodone

This dream was definitely a child birthed by my rather absurdly large [Oxycodone] pills. I’m taking Oxycodone as of late, a generic form of [Percocet], to ease the [pain] caused by the big hole in my stomach where my [appendix] was once located. It's interesting to note this dream was [lucid dream|semi-lucid], although some parts came out of nowhere at all. This is most likely where the Oxycodone started getting to me. For some reason I remembered the majority of the dream fairly well. I think allot of this dream was me expressing my want to return to [Paris], and remembering the fun of my summer vacation there, although the majority of it was just me being really messed up on Oxycodone. Some of the scenery was from the airports visited while on this trip. This was the last time I was actually at MIA as well.

I wanted to leave, more than anything, and where is the best place to do this at, but at [Miami International Airport]. Actually, this is probably the worst place to choose to do this at. I hate MIA with a passion. It’s a horribly laid out airport, but I digress. I arrived at MIA, with my goal of sneaking onto a flight for Paris, [France] firmly stated in my head. As I looked around I subconsciously noticed that there was no way in hell this was MIA. I had been to MIA before, and this was not it. This looked like a cross between a super glitzy, high-tech, mall-from-hell and an airport. I distinctly remember seeing no terminals with long lines of chairs with entrance portals to planes, or airline logos commonly associated with airport waiting terminals.

In my dream MIA had three buildings, each of which was a separate part of my dream.

The check-in building
The sprawling mall building
The flat [IMAX] theatre

The check-in building was where my dream began. It started with me wandering around this building, looking at random check-in counters and getting a feel for my surroundings. I think this is where I started to get the notion that I was going to sneak onto a flight. I don’t know if my instincts knew it was going to be to Paris (ever since I visited Paris for a few days last summer I've been dying to go back.), or if this was decided latter in the dream.

As I begin to realize what I'm doing and where I am, I find myself in a security check point line. This is actually the one from MIA though, not some weird hallucinated airport security checkpoint. I’m asked for a boarding pass, and somehow I pull something out from my wallet that passes for a boarding pass and they let me through, morons. I pass through the [carrying a knife through airport security|metal detector and baggage x-ray] easily, as I'm carrying no baggage, and I enter into the next building.

The transition between the security line and the mall is not readily remembered, as the security line was based on real life, and the mall was most likely where I started feeling the heavy effects of the Oxycodone It seemed slightly similar to the mall in my home town, Tyrone Square Mall, but it was like the mall was going to a theme party, dressed in full drag regalia. The ceilings were ungodly high and had long shimmering drapes of [mauves], [indigos], [salmons], and any other color you can picture [Christopher Lowell] painting a bedroom. There were stores lining the sides of the long, wide hallways, and the hallways were littered with random high tech kiosks. Most of the stores were equally as glitzy as the hanging drapes, as were the kiosks; some kiosks were selling [lava lamp|lava lamps] and the sort of crap associated with a kiosk that would sell lava lamps, some were the kiosks whose purpose was to entice you into trying the most recent release by [PlayStation] or [Xbox], and of course there were those salesmen selling cheap planes that fly back to you everywhere; their planes creating a ridiculous amount of traffic in the sky. On top of that, it was crowded as hell, as malls are at the height of the Christmas shopping season, creating an equally ridiculous amount of traffic in and amongst the kiosks.

Of course, being a 15 year old tripping on a cheap form of Percocet, I wanted to play the most recent release by Sony or whatever the hell it was. As this was the Christmas season, there were hordes of kids surrounding each kiosk as they had once horded around Santa, abandoned by their parents so they could buy whichever game the little brat happened to be playing. So I wandered around trying to find an abandoned kiosk, and eventually I found one I could sneak onto. I played for awhile, ignoring the sharing rule, and this naturally unnerved those waiting for my spot. Eventually they spoke up, and I argued back, loudly, trying to get them to go to a different kiosk. When they didn't, I decided to argue back in a more [unorthodox] way. This is where the Percocet really started kicking in. I dropped trou, and mooned them, then abandoned my clothes at the gamers kiosk as they planed to abandon their children and their children's minds and pranced through the glitzy packed mall au natural,free.

Of course this aroused a reaction from the officials, and it elevated into a chase between me and the police officers. Eventually I was caught, cuffed, and shawled, as they began to haul me off. My dreams of Paris were far away now, eaten away by the Percocet. Now I just wanted to save my naked ass. Naturally I tried to reason with them, but it didn't really work too well. I tried to tell them I had to get on a flight to Paris, but to no avail, they kept dragging me through hordes of people who parted like the [Red Sea] to let the crazed, hallucinating, naked guy and his police escorts through. Somehow I produced a ticket to an IMAX movie, located somewhere in MIA. I was going to say it was from a pocket, but that couldn't have been, and I don't really remember how I got the ticket, and I know damn sure there is no IMAX theatre in Miami International Airport, but that doesn't matter, because it got me out of their hands. We returned to the kiosk where I had abandoned my clothes, and I put them back on. They escorted me to the monorail that takes you to the IMAX theatre. They released me onto the [monorail], and it's also interesting to note that the monorail I pictured in my dream was the one from [Tampa International Airport], not Miami International. I don't think Miami International even has a monorail. MIA is just a hell hole.

The ride to the IMAX theatre passed uneventfully, and I reached the destination unharmed, and luckily free. I entered the theatre, and suprisingly the theatre did not have the signature raked seating of an IMAX theatre, but it was completely flat, with all of the seats laying down facing a complete dome screen. The movie seemed to be the Relaxation channel from the hospital TV. The relaxation channel at the hospital where my appendix was removed was a channel geared towards (most likely) very drugged out elderly women. It featured pictures of flowers waving in the breeze with [easy listening] music playing in the background. That was about all it showed. Every once in awhile it may have switched it up with a picture of a kitten or a water fall or something, but I didn’t really watch it long enough to notice. I don’t think the music changed much though. No late night [Slayer] on the Relaxation channel. Anyway, for some reason I was never happy with my seat, so I decided to do back handsprings in between seats in the theatre, trying to find an appropriate seat. I never found one, but this is about where I woke up, completely bewildered, wondering what the hell I took the night before.

The thing about this dream that really got to me was how everything was vaguely familar. Its odd how 'our imaginations can never really create anything new, just recycle bits and pieces from the real world and assemble them into visions.' (Harper, [Angels In America]) It's weird how the brain will just cut and paste pieces from different places together to fit your dream. For example, the molding of Tampa and Miami International Airports in my dream. It's funny just how much dreams really are a window to who you are and how you're feeling at the time, windows to the souls they are.

Dream Log: December 15, 2004 (idea)