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12:20:2002 Entry: "Ann : DREAM, an Epic - And they say you never wake up again if you die!"

DREAM, an Epic - And they say you never wake up again if you die!

Stan and I were some place where people around us were talking about some sort of weird races where some homemade contraption pushes a locomotive engine down some train tracks. It sounded surreal but the weird thing is that suddenly we started moving and we realized that we were actually inside a locomotive engine. We weren't going that fast at first, but it started speeding up and we were watching the landscape go by us outside the window. It was getting rather frightening, as I could see other engines in the contest derailing and causing car traffic to have major lethal accidents. Suddenly, my limbs seemed paralyzed and a strange tingling sensation overtook my whole body. I think I've had this sensation before, and it extends beyond the mental dream into the physical, real realm. But I didn't wake up. The engine was now at a standstill, and Stan got out and started walking around on a street nearby. There was like a dock, where people were loading stuff off of and he seemed to be asking some men some questions. I finally decided I'd get out too, but when I did get out of the engine, I felt invisible. No one seemed to see me (except Stan); people were bumping into me and cars almost hit me on the street. I stepped up onto the dock and from there, Stan and I boarded some sort of transport system...train? trolley? ferry? it's hard to say. When we were inside, there was a strange, older woman in a loose dress that was talking to me. She had a bullet hole stained in blood on her dress in the location of her vagina. I found this most disturbing. She wouldn't stop talking to me. It suddenly dawned on me, I was dead. Stan was dead. We died in the engine race. Everyone on the vessel was newly dead, and we were being transported to wherever the recently departed go. Whoah. Heavy.

I'm not sure if this dream is a continuation of the dead dream or a new dream's hard to say, but again I was on some sort of vessel and everyone was trying to find a bathroom. I found a stall, which was more like a private bathroom, but the darn door didn't close. I was really frustrated, trying to mess around with the latch. Then some guy came to help me. He looked familiar like I had worked for him in the past at some job, but IRL he didn't look familiar at all in that way. Looked more like Alan Alda. WTF? Haven't even watched a MASH rerun in years. Weird.

Again, I'm not sure where this part of the dream fits in: I was at home and I think someone was visiting, either one of Stan's mom's or my mom. I was showing off our new master bedroom, but it was HUGE! It was like the entire length of our whole house, all porches was just gigantic and long, but not as nice as our real bedroom. It didn't seem quite as finished and the floors seemed older. Then I was going to go upstairs, and again, there was just something a little off about the house. It just wasn't as well cared for as ours seemed a little more run down and the bottom of the stairway was narrower. It was so narrow, in fact, that I got my head caught as I tried to step up. It was extremely painful, and seemed to grasp the tightest around my temples. I was quite scared and was afraid I would have to be surgically removed from the house, but I nonetheless managed to extract myself with some difficulty. I decided not to go upstairs after that.

And finally: Stan was working outside in the front garden. It must have been spring as there were flowers starting to grow. Some 20-something black guys were playing some sort of ball game in our yard and Stan was telling them not to step in the garden. They started saying that sometimes they couldn't control where the ball landed and they couldn't help it if they had to step in the garden (I found this very odd because our front garden area isn't the most convenient of places to play, what with steps going up the middle of it and all). So I came outside and started getting mad and saying stuff like 'yo' and 'know what I'm talkin' about?' making a very feeble white woman attempt at explaining things in their way. I think they left after that because they thought I was a nutso.

By Ann @ 20:26 AM CST:12:20:02 ..::Link::..