Dream Journal

Last night, I dreamed I was doing this:

The weird thing was that I was actually good at it, which makes no sense at all. I am normally terrible at doing anything physical. I can barely walk without falling down. Yesterday when I was taking Birdy out for her afternoon walk, I tripped over some new pine straw that the landscapers had laid down earlier in the day, and fell on my ass. Pine straw. I know. Well, it can be slick, and I was wearing flip flops. Birdy tried to leave me there on the ground, glancing at me over her shoulder as she kept walking, like, “Oh, good God! Here we go again.” I think I embarrassed her. She is way more athletic than I am.

In part two of the dream, I was on a camping trip with a friend. We saw some of these, which are pretty common in the mountains here in North Carolina:

I used to dream about bears all the time, but more in the context of being lost in a forest and having them chase me. This time it felt exciting and fun to see one in the wild.

My most recurrent dreams involve being part of a resistance movement or a rebellion, being pursued by bad people, doing things that aren’t necessary legal for the benefit of the greater good, being on the run, traveling. Recently I dreamed I was in a guitar class taught by Dave Matthews, and he was also the leader of the resistance. I lived next door to a powerful political figure, and Dave convinced me to get him to come over and then blow the place up. I don’t remember how I was supposed to escape. Dave brought me some gel explosive, but he didn’t tell me how to use it. So I put it inside a cigarette, lit it, and tossed it at the guy (but missed). But instead of blowing up the townhouse we were in, it just created a small fireball that extinguished itself pretty quickly. No one got hurt. My cover was obviously blown. That’s all I remember. Feel free to analyze my delusional subconscious at your leisure. 🙂

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