Skip to content

m.m.g.b.

February 7, 2011

Well, it’s not the morning, but it IS Monday, and that can mean only one thing: the Monday Morning Guest Blogger! This week’s dream has been kindly submitted by my lovely sister (a fellow blogger, check it out!). Friends, this dream has everything: volcanoes, Nazis, atomic bombs…you name it. Stephanie Meyer, eat your heart out.

Remember, if you’d like to be featured, get dreamin’! Write it all down, send it to me via email, and I’ll post it here for the world to see.

The dream:

So I don’t remember a lot of the beginning of the dream.  I know that our house was slightly distorted, it was a mixture between the house I live in now and the one that I lived in for 10 years as a child.  It had the windows and the some of the furniture from the old house, but the bed and placement of walls and closets and doors were that of the new house.  Also, the walls were all very brightly painted.  The rest of my house seemed to be the new house, but I didn’t enter any rooms other than my parents’, which was the new house. 
 
The neighborhood we live in was placed atop a mountain, but it looked incredibly fake.  It looked like a stop-motion photography film that had giant cut outs of houses on a road made out of felt that were pasted on top of a picture (a la national geographic) of a volcano.  Trust me, I know it’s weird. 
 
Suddenly I see this image of our cartoony looking neighborhood on top of a volcano being hit with an atomic bomb.  Cut to me inside my room not knowing what to do or what is going on.  All I know is that my flesh should be melting away, but it isn’t.  Apparently all of the people in my house are fine.  I say people because it wasn’t just the usual family members that live in my house, it was also my cousins Patrick and Alex. Weird. Anyway, we were all very much alive after this atomic bomb fell on our house, which actually looked more like a volcano erupting, but was actually an A-Bomb.  After rushing out of my room to make sure that other people were alive, my father yells at me to get under my bed and under this mattress door under my bed so that the “cleaners” don’t find me.  “Cleaners” being flame-throwing Nazi-esque people who want me dead so badly that they hunt me down after dropping an atomic bomb.  
 
Then I woke up.

Advertisements
No comments yet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: