The Obscure

Every time I open this "Edit Blog" page I wonder why I persist in maintaining this site. How much of my words have you sucked out of me, blog?! WHEN WILL IT END?!
Luck be a lady tonight, man. Y'ar!
I had a dream a few nights ago, and for some reason I cannot get it out of my head. Everything I see and think reminds me of it, even though the dream itself was really inane and nonsensical. For some reason it seems to have burned itself into the foreground of my consciousness--and since it seems to be all that is actively existing in my head right now (and yes, things can exist non-actively) I am going to write about it here. Also, Lena wanted me to write this dream down, because I told it to her and she thought it was interesting.
It's like I'm killing no birds with two stones! Ha! Ha! (that line was from a Sam and Fuzzy strip. I recommend Sam and Fuzzy.)
Anyway, this dream was incredibly vivid, it was one of those dreams that felt like I was actually living in it; which is probably why it is so memorable. Therefore, bear in mind that all of these things were as realistic to me as if they were actually happening. Also, none of these events have any bearing on real life. That is to say, My friends and I do not actually do some of the things that I dreamt about. You will probably figure out what I am referring to. That being said, Enjoy!

I suddenly found myself in the backseat of a speeding Jeep, at midnight. Next to me sat my friend Tim Doherty. I noticed with slight surprise that he was not wearing his glasses. The jeep was being driven by a faceless shadow man, in a black hat and a black overcoat. We did not know this man, and we drove on for several miles in silence, observing the speeding night-time world through the Jeep's dusty windows. A restlessness overtook me and I began to fidget. After a thorough search of my seat and the floor beneath it I discovered a small bag containing three joints. I displayed my finds to my companion (Tim), and we made haste to light them up.
It came to my attention, 2 1/2 joints later, that the pot we had found was laced with some extremely powerful hallucinogenic. Suddenly, a herd of tiny ghost-dogs with flaming eyes came hurtling down the road towards us, and attacked the Jeep. I noticed that half of the ghost-dogs had black fur, and half of them had white fur.
Our assailants could only come in physical contact with Tim and I, as we were the only people in currently in existence who could see them. They flew through the walls of the Jeep like shadow-vapor and threw their tiny bodies at us. I decided that my only course of action was to strangle each ghost-dog to death, individually. I took the nearest dog by the throat and began throttling it, I felt it's spinal column snap in my grip.
At that moment our Driver pulled into the parking lot of a local supermarket; it was now 3 in the afternoon. Tim and I climbed out of the vehicle, accompanied by 13 other nameless friends who were apparently in the way-back of the Jeep all along. We were all wearing rollerblades.
Suddenly my mother came running down the road, carrying a tupperware container filled with hornets. The tupperware lid was too large for the container, so she had taped it shut with scotch-tape.
"John!" She said to me, "Here are those hornets you wanted."
I took the tupperware container in my hand and saw 6 enormous hornets buzzing angrily at me. They were trying to peel off the scotch-tape so that they could get out of the container and sting us. My mother told me to go back to the apartment where we used to live, and find my father's duct-tape to close the hornets in properly.
We all headed back to the apartment. A difficult task, considering the fact that we were all wearing rollerblades, and it was snowy out.
We made it to the apartment and I ran in, my companions waited outside. I rooted in my father's old desk for several hours, and eventually found a mostly used up roll of duct-tape, with only 6 or 7 inches of tape left on it. This was not enough tape to hold the hornets in.
I grew very angry and began smashing things in my father's study, overturning bookshelves and filing cabinets, desperately searching for a better roll of duct-tape.

At this point, my mother woke me up to tell me I had a phone call. I spent the rest of the day in constant fear of hornet stings.

Anyway, that was my dream. I just wanted to write and I couldn't think of anything else to write about. Sorry to waste all of your time! Goodnight, ladies and gents.