Complicated, Overstimulated, and Obviously Very Symbolic Dream

I had a very complicated, overstimulated, and obviously very symbolic (well, emotional . . . ) dream last night. It combined everything I've done since practically the beginning of the year.

I was in New York again-- and Tiffany and Jessica were there, although not always with me-- but this time with a million more people-- like everyone from school, my Honors classes, the drama departments, the musical, orchestra . . . and even some people from the Japan trip. It was crazy. I think there might have even been a few people from college, that I *knew* were from college but really didn't exist, lol . . . Adam Ball was there, randomly, too . . .

There was even a cameo of the random Chinese lady I saw in a picture in the newspaper yesterday stealing naturally gas in a giant sausage-shaped balloon, walking down the street as if no one could see her and her giant-ass balloon, lol . . . Yeah, the balloon showed up.

It's just like everybody I've ever known, ever . . . only except for that Chinese lady with her random balloon . . .

Anyway, we were *staying* at this old, freaking huge New York building, like the Plaza or something, only older, more decrepit, and making much less more archetectural sense. The stairs, for instance, were so steep and long that in order to get to the correct floor, you had to go down the flight, and halfway up another to get back to your destination. It was all that old, once-beautiful-and-lavish red carpet like at the Elco.

Liz was staying on the top floor-- where, in a previous dream, I recognized, I had stayed with Tiffany and Jessica on another dream New York trip, where we became poor turn-of-the-century immigrant workers, and it was weird, lol . . . but Liz was fine. She was just out on her own, because I can picture her out on her own so easily, having fun living in this crazy building, but only at the very top, where a young person could afford to stay, lol . . .

Anyway, I chatted with her for a while, and we amused ourselves with running down the steep stairs, which was more like running-flying-falling (why is it that I always end up flying in dreams with Liz? Liz, you must make me happy, or something . . . ). I have a lot of dreams about bizarre stairs and running up and down them and falling off of them, lol . . .

Then I went to the basement, where Jessica and Katie worked in an evil Meijer run by a werewolf Antonio Banderas (and don't even tell me that wasn't even a reference to my life as of lately . . . Antonio Banderas shows up from Evita, which I just watched lately; the werewolf bit is a reference to Remus Lupin, obviously, lol, which I was talking about Lisa last night-- he's her favorite *adult* character, apparently . . . ). So apparently Antonio Banderas was not only a werewolf, but an evil capitalist (Ha! Meijer really is corrupt! Only it's not communists, it's just dictatorial! Lol . . . ) AND a religious fanatic. There was a church in the other part of the bowels of the basement.

Anyway, there was a tornado (apparently this dream felt like showing me all of my fears, to . . . ), but this building was sturdy enough to last it even though we saw houses outside get plowed over by tornados several times (and, yes, there were several, all in different sizes . . . ) throughout the night.

Then Antonio Banderas locked the doors, and we all knew we had to escape, because he was going to kill us all for not converting to his religion and buying from his evil Meijer. So a bunch of us fled to a little board room in the basement, by the church part, which was all stone and bare and torn up, and we figured that's where Antonio went when he had to transform, and hoped that wasn't tonight. The windows were barred. The room was packed full of people-- all those people that I mentioned above-- except Jessica and Katie-- and I think Liz-- who were still being held in the clutches of the evil Meijer.

So we were trying to plan how to get out of here, knowing we were going to be victims of religicide (and we argued for a long time about whether it was "religicide" or "regicide"-- which I knew was murder of a king, heh, reference to the "homocide" worries I had about making my shirt, lol . . . there is no generalized, overarching term for "to kill a family member," only father, mother, brother, or sister-- and I don't think it even is "religicide, lol . . . the only thing we agreed on was that it wasn't "genocide.") . . . and then somebody leaned over my shoulder and kissed me. It was so random. I've never been kissed in a dream. I've had sex (and been raped on several occasions), but I've never kissed or been kissed. I was so shocked it woke me up.

So then apparently we never escaped from the clutches of evil Meijer and werewolf Antonio Banderas and his bizarre religious ways and dark church-boardroom-Plaza-immigrant workplace-castle-Meijer.

Complicated, Overstimulated, and Obviously Very Symbolic Dream

I had a very complicated, overstimulated, and obviously very symbolic (well, emotional . . . ) dream last night. It combined everything I've done since practically the beginning of the year.

I was in New York again-- and Tiffany and Jessica were there, although not always with me-- but this time with a million more people-- like everyone from school, my Honors classes, the drama departments, the musical, orchestra . . . and even some people from the Japan trip. It was crazy. I think there might have even been a few people from college, that I *knew* were from college but really didn't exist, lol . . . Adam Ball was there, randomly, too . . .

There was even a cameo of the random Chinese lady I saw in a picture in the newspaper yesterday stealing naturally gas in a giant sausage-shaped balloon, walking down the street as if no one could see her and her giant-ass balloon, lol . . . Yeah, the balloon showed up.

It's just like everybody I've ever known, ever . . . only except for that Chinese lady with her random balloon . . .

Anyway, we were *staying* at this old, freaking huge New York building, like the Plaza or something, only older, more decrepit, and making much less more archetectural sense. The stairs, for instance, were so steep and long that in order to get to the correct floor, you had to go down the flight, and halfway up another to get back to your destination. It was all that old, once-beautiful-and-lavish red carpet like at the Elco.

Liz was staying on the top floor-- where, in a previous dream, I recognized, I had stayed with Tiffany and Jessica on another dream New York trip, where we became poor turn-of-the-century immigrant workers, and it was weird, lol . . . but Liz was fine. She was just out on her own, because I can picture her out on her own so easily, having fun living in this crazy building, but only at the very top, where a young person could afford to stay, lol . . .

Anyway, I chatted with her for a while, and we amused ourselves with running down the steep stairs, which was more like running-flying-falling (why is it that I always end up flying in dreams with Liz? Liz, you must make me happy, or something . . . ). I have a lot of dreams about bizarre stairs and running up and down them and falling off of them, lol . . .

Then I went to the basement, where Jessica and Katie worked in an evil Meijer run by a werewolf Antonio Banderas (and don't even tell me that wasn't even a reference to my life as of lately . . . Antonio Banderas shows up from Evita, which I just watched lately; the werewolf bit is a reference to Remus Lupin, obviously, lol, which I was talking about Lisa last night-- he's her favorite *adult* character, apparently . . . ). So apparently Antonio Banderas was not only a werewolf, but an evil capitalist (Ha! Meijer really is corrupt! Only it's not communists, it's just dictatorial! Lol . . . ) AND a religious fanatic. There was a church in the other part of the bowels of the basement.

Anyway, there was a tornado (apparently this dream felt like showing me all of my fears, to . . . ), but this building was sturdy enough to last it even though we saw houses outside get plowed over by tornados several times (and, yes, there were several, all in different sizes . . . ) throughout the night.

Then Antonio Banderas locked the doors, and we all knew we had to escape, because he was going to kill us all for not converting to his religion and buying from his evil Meijer. So a bunch of us fled to a little board room in the basement, by the church part, which was all stone and bare and torn up, and we figured that's where Antonio went when he had to transform, and hoped that wasn't tonight. The windows were barred. The room was packed full of people-- all those people that I mentioned above-- except Jessica and Katie-- and I think Liz-- who were still being held in the clutches of the evil Meijer.

So we were trying to plan how to get out of here, knowing we were going to be victims of religicide (and we argued for a long time about whether it was "religicide" or "regicide"-- which I knew was murder of a king, heh, reference to the "homocide" worries I had about making my shirt, lol . . . there is no generalized, overarching term for "to kill a family member," only father, mother, brother, or sister-- and I don't think it even is "religicide, lol . . . the only thing we agreed on was that it wasn't "genocide.") . . . and then somebody leaned over my shoulder and kissed me. It was so random. I've never been kissed in a dream. I've had sex (and been raped on several occasions), but I've never kissed or been kissed. I was so shocked it woke me up.

So then apparently we never escaped from the clutches of evil Meijer and werewolf Antonio Banderas and his bizarre religious ways and dark church-boardroom-Plaza-immigrant workplace-castle-Meijer.