During my usual four and a half hour nap this afternoon, I had another bad dream.

Must be all the prozac.

I was walking down Douglas, right before the place where it splits into Lakewood and Ottawa Beach. Accidents were happening everywhere around me. I actually watched one woman get run over. I went to help, and was scared by all the blood. Someone behind me said it was sad she never knew her ears would burst under too much pressure.


I was going on a hike in the woods with some friends. We were in some sort of danger while packing to go, so we brought extra spoons. One of our parents gave us a metal spatula to bring along.

We made it to the lodge on the mountain. There was a high deck where we were supposed to sleep. We dragged all our bags up the countless steps, and settled down on the full sized mattresses each of us somehow managed to carry along. My hooded sweatshirt fell off the deck between the railings, but they wouldn’t let me get it. There were dwarves, they said. Killer dwarves. I told them not to worry; we had plenty of silverware.


I was on a huge school bus, with aisles that went on towards the horizon without ending.

It was empty except for me. The green seats and dirty windows were my only company. I decided to head out the emergency exit, but when I opened it, there was nothing outside besides black emptiness. Staying inside seemed the safest thing to do. I turned back around, and who did I see standing in the aisle not three feet away? Jonathan Davis and Bill Clinton. I could see someone’s feet sticking into the aisle from a seat farther up – it must have been a woman, she was wearing sky blue high heels and nylons. Clinton was wearing a suit with a red tie, while Jonathan had on a kilt and nothing else. No one said anything, but that was normal. We stood in silence for what seemed like forever.