Thursday, June 25, 2009

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 1 Issue 6

How much do you like the feeling you get when you’re in the middle of a dream and you’re falling, falling, falling and just waiting to hit the ground and then all of a sudden you wake up and those chills run up and down your spine? I for one love that feeling, it’s like you are seeing your death right in front of your eyes and then instantly you are completely fine and laying in your own bed. I usually lie in bed and try to collect my thoughts after those chills and at that point I would say I feel more alive than almost any other single moment. I read somewhere (in a book) that if for some reason you don’t wake up during that fall and actually hit the ground that you die, in fact that if you die in any of your dreams you actually cease to live in life as well (now how they would be able to know that, seeing how if you die in your sleep you really can’t tell someone what you were dreaming about, I’ll leave for you to ponder). If that little factoid was true I’d say that I’d have died at least 4 times since last March.

My last dream happened a couple nights ago, I’ll foreshadow here a little bit and let you know I was shot point blank range with a shotgun by a 1930’s era cop. Since I can recall I’ve always had some vivid dreams that I can usually remember with pretty good detail. However I was never killed in my dreams until after my episode and since then I’ve been shot, stabbed, beat, and sliced to death. My last occurrence pitted me riding around with Johnny Depp when all of a sudden he pulled a gun on me. It seems that we had just been set up and that we were some kind of gangsters (could be that I just saw the trailer for “Public Enemies”) in the 1930s now racing back to our hideout/home/my childhood farmhouse (makes perfect sense doesn’t it). I somehow convinced Johnny that it wasn’t me who set him up and now we were speeding around South Chuck (the town I grew up in) trying to escape from the cops (whom numbered in around the 20’s, really weird for a town of about 2,000 people).

The next thing I can remember we were driving out in a farm and looking for a bridge to cross the creek to get over to my farmhouse. We slow down when all of a sudden a cop jams his shotgun through the back window and I turn to look when boom, shot right in the chest. Now I’m no doctor but I would imagine being shot from a foot away right in the chest would be life threatening, so in theory I shouldn’t be alive. This is when it gets really weird (like it’s not already) my dream stops for an instance, as if my life stops so essentially I’m dead, this usually lasts about a few seconds (or what only I can try to guess as seconds). Suddenly I’m on my knees being yelled at to lift my arms up by the cops but due to the buckshot in my chest I’m unable to do so. Johnny Depp and the driver of our car are yelling at me to not give up any information and saying we were just in a wreck and that’s the reason for my injuries. I ignore Johnny (mistake) and tell the cops it was him (for what, I don’t know but seemed like the right thing to do). Now I’ve got Johnny Depp wanting to kill me, scary stuff.

Anyhow, like any good gangster flick we somehow escape from the cops and are now running down the creek bed looking for a place to cross. I am now with Johnny and the driver asking him why the cops were trying to kill me and his response was “for the same reason I was”. I instantly become fearful for my life, again, and jump into the creek. Johnny follows and the next thing I know I was being drowned by Johnny Depp in the creek that runs beside my old childhood farmhouse. I wake up.

I just have to shake my head and laugh at this ridiculous dream, although on the brighter side before my mania I never got to be a 1930s gangster with Johnny Depp.

Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!

Coming Correct,

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