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February 28, 2011

It’s another installation of Monday Morning Guest Blogger! Today’s dream was troubling for the dreamer. What to do about a dream in which you seem to get pleasure out of causing others pain? And furthermore, what to do when the person who was in pain decides to seek revenge? I have no answers, but you might: leave a comment below if you have insight!

I was somewhere that was not anywhere I’ve lived in real life and at a school library. I was going through all of the books looking for what I needed and I suddenly look over and a door from the library goes out onto an indoor wooden velodrome. I guess I have a bike or I know that right off the bat you can borrow one so I pick one up and take a few laps. Then someone who I apparently know but definitely not in real life comes over and says I can borrow their rear disc wheel. Why? I don’t know. But I take it and it magically appears on the bike without me actually doing anything and I ride around some more. Then it magically is off and I carry it back into the library to give it back to its owner. I pass Mark Cavendish. I don’t actually ever see his face or him on a bike, just the back of his head. Regardless I know it is him. He was wearing a white skinsuit with teeny bits of gold and black so perhaps he was wearing the actual HTC colors. Or something my brain made up, I don’t know. I can’t find the girl who gave me the wheel so I just lean it up against the wall with the intention to keep my eye on it while I go around and search for the book I need. Someone gives me a book to look at and it has a piece of while lined notebook paper covering half the book cover. It has a name on it, the name of the person I borrowed it from. I believe it had Katia ____ on it, but I guess I only really comprehend the Kat___ part of it because after finding what I need from the book I give my book to my friend Kate who tells me that it’s not hers. I look at the cover again and realize my error and say “Oh, your right, sorry” and I must have put the book down, or maybe it’s still in my hands but I’m not really sure where it went after that.

I walk over to a side room of the library. It’s a walk in closet, probably meant to be a storage closet but they are using it to hold extra books. I’m looking for what I need and all of a sudden I start swinging my right arm around and my hand gets caught in someone’s hair. You know when you’re brushing your hair and there are those teeny, miniscule knots right near the end? My fingers get caught on some of those. The person complains, I apologize, but I must have gotten some kind of a thrill out of it because I do it again. This time my hand gets caught in this girl’s long, blond hair. The hair is apparently real because it hurts her when my fingers get caught, but the hair has the feeling of plastic Barbie hair. I just keep pulling down. Rather than trying to painlessly free my fingers from her hair I just keep yanking down so it hurts her. I am getting some kind of enjoyment out of it.

Of course whether I mean it or not, I apologize to her. And she backs me into a corner of the storage room and accepts my apology and says “that’s okay”. I felt like I was experiencing no emotion, neither fear that she caught me nor happiness or joy that I had that satisfaction of getting my fingers stuck in her hair. Everything appears to be completely okay.

Next thing I know the blond-haired girl is right in front of me and says “I hate to do this to you but…” and she doesn’t finish because as she’s saying those words she is very quickly raising a black gun and putting it to my forehead. She pulls the trigger but I wake up right before the bullet hits.

Good lord, I woke up with my heart pounding. From innocently and gleefully riding around a velodrome to being murdered in a storage closet in a library. Yikes. Note to self: People don’t like it when you purposefully get your fingers caught in their tiny hair tangles.

2 Comments leave one →
  1. March 1, 2011 4:05 am

    Wow, you retell your dreams so clearly! I can only remember mine in this much detail once in awhile. It’s so funny to read a description of a dream like this, they’re always so crazy! I’ve totally had dreams like this too, where I wake up right before I’m going to get shot or fall or a cliff or something.

    • March 1, 2011 11:04 pm

      Well, I must admit that I can’t claim ownership of this particular dream–my friend guest blogged today! But, yes, I think the key to really remembering dreams is writing them down right away! There are things, like dialogue, that I wish I could remember more acurately.

      If you ever have a dream you care to share, you know where I am! 😀

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