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Entry tags:
Nightmare
Has changing the clocks been as hard on you as it has on me? I'd just reached the point where I could wake up naturally at 6 AM, feeling rested and good...and this happened. Once again I have to wake up in the dark, and it's like pulling myself out of my own grave.
Thank you, George W. Bush.
Anyway: what a hell of a dream.
I was half awake, and I had a feeling that something bad was happening. And then I realized that something bad was happening: I was sleepwalking, sort of, and I watched in helpless horror as I started robbing a bank.
What was particularly bizarre was that I knew that the teller I was robbing was actually an undercover policeman. I wasn't even wearing a mask, and he was taking detailed notes about my appearance. After he filled up my bag with cash, I pointed a gun at him with a smile and ordered him to hand over all his notes as well. Then I took off, realizing as I did that I hadn't done anything about the security cameras. They had my picture, and they were sure to get me. Still, this being a nightmare, I went home and went to bed. The thought of a lifetime in prison tormented me. What would happen to Sebastian?
Finally I dozed off, only to wake a bit later wondering if the experience had been a nightmare. So I picked up the bag lying next to my bed, opened it, and with a feeling of utter horror thumbed through the stacks of stolen $5,000 bills.
Later I woke up for real, thank goodness. This isn't the first time that my sleeping brain has played that sort of sick, sick joke on me; I've dreamed that I had leukemia, that the sun was going to go nova, and that I'd helped murder an innocent couple.
Fortunately, most of my dreams are a lot more pleasant.
Thank you, George W. Bush.
Anyway: what a hell of a dream.
I was half awake, and I had a feeling that something bad was happening. And then I realized that something bad was happening: I was sleepwalking, sort of, and I watched in helpless horror as I started robbing a bank.
What was particularly bizarre was that I knew that the teller I was robbing was actually an undercover policeman. I wasn't even wearing a mask, and he was taking detailed notes about my appearance. After he filled up my bag with cash, I pointed a gun at him with a smile and ordered him to hand over all his notes as well. Then I took off, realizing as I did that I hadn't done anything about the security cameras. They had my picture, and they were sure to get me. Still, this being a nightmare, I went home and went to bed. The thought of a lifetime in prison tormented me. What would happen to Sebastian?
Finally I dozed off, only to wake a bit later wondering if the experience had been a nightmare. So I picked up the bag lying next to my bed, opened it, and with a feeling of utter horror thumbed through the stacks of stolen $5,000 bills.
Later I woke up for real, thank goodness. This isn't the first time that my sleeping brain has played that sort of sick, sick joke on me; I've dreamed that I had leukemia, that the sun was going to go nova, and that I'd helped murder an innocent couple.
Fortunately, most of my dreams are a lot more pleasant.