I trespassed into a rich person’s house thinking it’s a park, and got chased by a bear.
Now, as soon as I saw the bear lunging towards me I realised I won’t be able to outrun it. All of the terrifying scenes from the Revenant came back to me in an instant. As I stood there, deciding whether to play dead or be dead, the bear stopped, and it started sniffing the ground. Days of not showering had finally paid off. I quickly climbed on to a tall wall. How, you ask? I don’t know. It’s a dream. Roll with it. Just as I was about to jump, I woke up. Oh! I just remembered that I was carrying my 4 year old dog while all of this was going down.
Rich person’s house: life, playing tricks
Bear: life, playing more tricks
Easily climbable walls: somehow everything works out in the end, though it might have got me killed
Dog: was my real life dog. I would die for her. Why the fuck would life want to kill my dog?
I am holding the Predator’s baby in my hand. I am wearing an exo-suit. I am equipped with a minigun, a protective face-shield, and a newspaper. The Predator is my ally. For the first time in my life, I have a kick-ass friend. We are inside an inter-planetary travel vessel. Suddenly, the alarm goes off, signaling an unauthorized entry into the ship. The door opens, and I see the scariest looking alien I’ve ever seen ( I am friends with the predator, mind you). I realize shit’s about to go down because I’ve never seen absolute fear in the predator’s eyes. The alien starts running towards us. I wake up. Sigh. I had just made a friend.
Predator is a science-fiction action media franchise centered on the film series depicting mankind’s encounters with a race of extraterrestrial trophy hunters known as the “Predator”– Wikipedia
I once had a dream that I was lying down on a beach, and a giant pebble rose from the ground, and started rotating. It got faster and faster until bolts of lightning started shooting out of it. Now, I don’t know what all this means, but I figured it has something to do with the spoiled food I had that night. Michael Faraday envisioned the dynamo in a dream. I pictured diarrhea.
I am in the middle of war, like literally in the middle of it. I can hear bullets fly by. I am scared out of my mind. I am with a group of military officers and a very beautiful nurse. I am less than 15 years old for some reason. We find an abandoned army building. We take cover there. The shooting subsides, night falls. The army guys take position on the rooftop, while the nurse and I sleep. Nothing sexual happened, but the nurse was attractive, I’ll tell you that much. Besides, I’m like, 14. Early morning, sunrise, it’s beautiful. There’s smoke, but it’s beautiful. I walk down to the lower floor. I see a fucking tank. There is a tank in the building! I’m thinking, “fuck yeah, we’re getting out”. So I wander about a little more. I go down to the basement, and I find like, really old files. There’s literature on plant biology, on human anatomy, and a lot of maps pinned to the walls. There’s even biscuits in a jar. All of a sudden, I notice a control station. It has a bunch of joysticks, big orange buttons, and a screen. I try to get the screen on, and it works. Lo and behold, it shows a diagnostic of the tank, just like any auto repair shop. I try to find out if there’s any way to check the fuel, and the control system explodes. While I run outside, the basement collapses in on itself. Somehow the building stands, and I see the gunmen on top look at me like “what did you do?”. Then I woke up.
Mathew (short, incompetent) used to come into the classroom, throw pieces of chalk at me(bigger, has no ego), and then run away. One day I found myself choking Mathew in the hallway, while all the kids watched with glee. The chalk-attack stopped. Respect was gained.
I am 29 years old. Today, Mathew appeared in my dream. This time, carrying a bottle of old water. How old? It had mosquito larvae jumping around. As he proceeded to spray it onto my face, I could see his and his accomplice’s faces light up with glee, like, it was pure, genuine happiness. After all these years of failing at stand-up comedy, this is what it takes to make people happy. The plan of action was obvious. Pick him up, throw him over the fence. Try to get him to fall on the fence, as it had pieces of glass sticking out of it. But as you know, dreams behave like bipolar people. You can never predict the switch to a nightmare. My legs wouldn’t move.
(Sound of children playing in the background. School bell rings)
I have a dream, a simple, revolutionary dream. I want to make music. I want to see people become happy when they listen to my music. Unfortunately, I do not have the talent to realize this dream on my own. I need a team(in the words of the great Deadpool, “a super dooper fucking group”). I’ve been trying to put together a team for the past one month. After several auditions, I finally got a bass player and lead guitar player. I explained my dream to them. I narrated it in Morgan Freeman’s voice. I put forth the idea like Steve Jobs explaining a business idea. I did everything I could. Yet those fuckers want to pursue a more “people-friendly” genre rather than taking a chance with me. I respect their musical interests. So now, I travel for an hour every weekend, play drums to fuckin “Foo Fighters” at a recording studio, come back home and eat till the depression fades away(Domino’s wins again).
I met a family who lives inside the studio’s premises. Here they are:
I once had a dream that I was in the back of a pickup truck with my parents and sister, driving through what seemed like a desert. The truck hit a speed bump and I rolled out the back. My family probably noticed it but they kept going and never came back. Meanwhile, in a nearby workshop, Ronald McDonald was having an argument with a biker gang for pulling his wig. One of the bikers came frighteningly up close and proceeded to insert skittles into his pocket. He then whispered into Ronald’s ear, “who’s that Pokémon?” He then crushed the skittles wrapper and left. A depressed Ronald found me lying on the road. He took me in. We setup a kickstarter to fund our new restaurant idea. It was a success, largely funded by religious extremists. As soon as we opened the restaurant we got sued by a damn fast food chain called McDonald’s. Luckily we had little money leftover which we used to buy Bitcoin.
I had a vision today. I passed out at a KFC only to be woken up by the KFC guy. I mean the man himself. The grey haired dude with the mustache who appears on the logo. He came up to me and said, “son, the key to a successful, stable relationship is stem cell research. I knew I wouldn’t understand it right away. So I went to the toilet to contemplate. I came back refreshed, ready to shoot the right question. I asked, “Oh great chicken-man, I know not what your angle is. I beg you to dum it down for me”. Suddenly he froze. His face went pale. He slowly pointed at the table next to me and said, “it’s too late. There is no hope now”. His fingers were shaking. It gets really weird after that. I looked over to the table he was pointing at and saw my boss eating a burger. But instead of a patty, the burger had ‘money’ in between the buns? But it was all demonitised notes? Long story short, I finally saw myself standing on top of a table, weilding a machete and on the machete was ‘greed’ written in blood. Kids, this is what sleep deprivation will do to you. Remember to get your full 8 hours or you’ll end up like me. PS: This whole thing was a joke. Have a sense of humour for God’s sake.
Ever get that feeling like some things happen at the right place at the right time for you? Like you are being watched/helped by someone or something? Well, you are not alone. There are millions of people just like you. I, on the other hand have never felt that way. However, I have to admit that sometimes I do feel like someone’s always trying to fuck with me.