Rick (medlir) wrote,


There were actually several parts. They first was my family had moved to lame suburb and had a pool that took up most of our backyard. One day I woke up and some kids were in our yard stealing stuff so I got mad and tried to run them off. It was like a gang or something, there was like 30 of them. :P They were spraying our house with stuff and even come in until they noticed my dad sitting there, then they vacated. :P The other part was my family getting ready to go to the cottage. Me, my brother, and sis were in our truck together. I remember stopping at a gas station when we went to leave, our (now dead) Chocolate Lab, Jake, was there. We tried to get him to jump in but he wouldn't for some reason. I went to back up a bit but the truck slid down the parking lot curb 10 spaces or so without turning... just sliding sideways. So we tried to get him to jump in again but he wouldn't so we ended up leaving. I got the impression he was following us (miles and miles, a long ways) and next thing I know we're nearing our house here. I told sis I'd stop on the less-busy road and let him in then. Meanwhile it started getting really foggy/snowy... Before I knew it, I couldn't see anything at all... and the snow was deep. I hit the brakes and we slid a long ways before seeing trees and straightening out. SOmehow the haze had moved the dream from heading home to on the little road to the lake where my great-grabdma's cottage was (it's sold now but is where we always went when I was younger). At this point, Jake caught up and had a little Chocolate Lab with him, which we assumed was his son for some reason. We ignored them after that. The little private drive to the cottage itself was overgrown and had debris in it but it was no match for the 4x4... When we got to the cottage, the little barn door was *closed* when I first saw it but then open later and we wondered if someone had broken in. Sis and bro wandered while I checked out the shed for missing stuff. I saw two wooden "books" I realized I had made at one point in the past. I saw my dad's machetes from Belize, and at one point grabbed a pickaxe head as a blunt weapon just in case. This creepy guy was hanging around outside. He walked by and I wondered why he would wait till the weekend to case the place when no one was around during the week and he could rob it blind on a Wednesday night... Then the bad thing... have you ever had a mouthful of fishing line *with* hooks stuffed in your mouth so that you can't breath but can't yank it out because that's just as bad? Me either, but I dreamed it just now. I have no idea how it came to be or why, but I remember one peice of line getting caught between my teeth like floss and it seemed super glued in there because I tried like hell to get it out. And then I had a mouthful out of nowhere. I had just cleared enough out to breath without ripping anything up when I woke up. :|

I take consolation in the fact that I'm lucky enough to know they're dreams while I'm dreaming them and so they're not really any more scary than watching a movie in your living room. I now have a knot/braincramp in the left top-section of my brain. It hurts.

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