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Why I don't keep a dream journal [Apr. 23rd, 2002|07:45 pm]
[Current Mood |gigglygiggly]
[Current Music |Bare Naked Ladies--It's All Been Done]

So, yesterday in the online witchcraft class I'm taking, the comment was made that we should all keep dream journals. Let me tell you about my dream last night:

Ferrett and I were at a resort town on the Atlantic coast--New England-y. We had come for a specific event, which was cancelled. Ferrett was disappointed, but I said, "Hey, there are other things to see, why the world's tallest train is here!"

Cut to 50-story, green and brass, Thomas the Tank Engine type locomotive.

"And the highest tide ever is happening right now!"

We begin to walk toward the beach and the view of the ocean at the end of a street of beach hotels and restaurants is impressive. Gigantic waves are crashing, and a Coast Guard cutter is out in the midst of it hoving about--imagine "The Perfect Storm" waves set in town. Yet the weather is pleasant. As we get within a few houses of the beach, all of a sudden a wall of sand, three stories high, rises before us--the ocean has pushed it loose and forward like a tectonic plate. The sea is now building up behind it, and at the base of it a crack like a great maw forms. I'm afraid that the water is going to rush out, but instead it bubbles up gently and then quickly erodes the wall of sand back down to beach.

We start wlking on the beach in the sunshine, feeling very happy. Out of nowhere my father (not MY father, but someone who in this dream is my father) grabs me roughly by the arm and growls at me, "I should have known I'd find you here with him." He drags me back to our house, where I am now young and virginal and forced to care for my hateful father. Ferrett is living in the house, but we aren't allowed to see each other. Yet we know we have to be together. He is being held in a room that I can't get into, but I find the window. The window is too small to climb through (it also has a red frame, for what that's worth), so we begin taking the glass out of the frames, much as you would lift out a shower door All of the sudden my father's henchman (played by an actor who has played evil, nasty henchmen in many movies) appears. "So," he says. "I knew I'd find you here. Come with me." He drags me away and I'm frantic with fear. If he tells my father, he will beat me. I beg him not to. He looks me up and down with lecherous eyes and says, "What will I get out of it?" I know what he wants and tell him that I will sleep with him to buy his silence (in the dream this doesn't seem like that big a deal to me, but I know that it is to him). After considerably more begging he agrees not to tell my father and lets me go. I go back and climb through the window, where Ferrett is finishing our master plan. We are going to create a distraction in order to escape.

We are going to create an artificial earthquake and make it seem like a monster is attacking the town so that the Powerpuf Girls will come and while everyone is distracted with them, we are going to run away.

This is why I don't keep a dream diary....

(Yes, there were Powerpuf Girls and much silliness from this point, but it was chaotic and then the alarmclock went off.)