Turf Marking

All original material, except otherwise explicitly stated, is under this:
Creative Commons License
Creative Commons License
MMIII-MMVII
Warm Fuzzy Freudian Slippers, Ltd.
*Other People's Blogs

FYI

Things you need to know:
  • Some posts, or the links they contain, are NSFW. This is your only warning.
  • This blog serves the cause of my freedom of speech, not yours. I wield censorship like a 10 year-old boy who just found his father's handgun.
Powered By Blogger

Sunday, April 03, 2005

For the past couple of nights, I've had some really vivid and interesting dreams. The ones from two nights ago are all but forgotten now except for the recollection that in each of those disparate dreams, I received something pleasant, a gift or what not.

Last night's dream took place in a space behind a shopping center in the middle of the night where I and a few others with me were watching with awe what looked like a commercial jet liner that was way too close for comfort. It was doing all sorts of circles and turns that always made it look like it was about to crash mere yards away from us. But, somehow, the plane always managed to flatten out at the last second and work its way back up in the air. Each time, it seemed to buzz us lower and lower until at one point, it seemed low enough that I actually attempted to jump up and touch the bottom of the fusilage as it passed overhead, just out of my reach. After that, we tried to evacuate the area, but found ourselves boxed in by semis making deliveries. We were in the back of a shopping center, remember.

Odd.
Categories:

0 comments: