stealing from a gas station

Why is it that the only celebrity who appears in my dreams is Oprah Winfrey? Last night she was in my dream, and she was working behind the counter of a gas station. I was on a long road trip with Kari and one of her friends and we stopped because we were famished. I opened a bag of bread right inside the shop and got two pieces out. It was a thrill, and it was odd that no one said anything to me. Then I opened a package of cheese and put the cheese in the bread and stuffed the sandwich in my pocket. Then I got a box of cookies and starting walking out of the store, then I realized I wanted to pay for the cookies. I went up to the counter and Oprah started talking shit to me. "Yeah, you just conveniently forgot to pay for those cookies." She told me she had a gun behind the counter and wasn't afraid to use it and just kept making idle threats while I stood there smiling and agreeing, anxious to get out of there and eat.

buhhhh

I was outside talking to some new friends and there were two kids kicking a football back and forth. I heard one of them shout something unidentifiable and then the ball hit me hard in the back of the head. It made a deafening "thuck!" noise that echoed in my head. I yelled "NOOOOO!!!" and it came out slower than it should have and then I fell to the ground in slow motion. It was like being lowered back by two other people. In the next part of the dream, I was very stressed out that I didn't have all the needed ingredients to make a gazpacho and really wanted to impress my Spanish friends. I was nearly in tears because I couldn't go to the store because it had closed at 9:00. "They'll hate it when they find out the cucumber is missing!!"

HET

The only thing I remember is standing at a stove and turning to someone and saying "Yeah, it's gonna be a nice little game of het."

smoking again, it felt so real

I was in a dark club, smoking cigarette after cigarette. I was sitting across from an unidentified person who was also chain-smoking. I smoked defiantly, carelessly, without even a tinge of guilt. Why was I smoking so many cigarettes in this dream?? I haven't smoked in five months..do I harbor a subconscious desire to smoke? I don't feel it day to day.

kitten attack

I walked into my apartment and there were three tiny adorable kittens. They looked peaceful and innocent enough. I leaned down to pet one of them and they all attacked me. There was one in my hair, one on my back, and one biting the shit out of my hand. I was screaming and struggling and woke up wondering if it's possible to have such a violent dream without something violent happening in real life.

fail

A dream about a haunted house. I was telling my friend Shana that it's the most haunted house I've ever lived in. She had a room down the hall. It really upset her and she wanted me to sleep in her room with her. It was one of those huge houses with lots of rooms, and there were only three people living there. In the basement was a labyrinth of stairs and doors, a confused cluster of passageways. I never ventured down there alone.

In the next part of the dream, I was in a lit class and realized I had put off reading some book by Charles Dickens because it bored me so awfully. It was that sinking feeling where I knew I didn't have the paper and I was going to fail the class. And the instructor was Ana, the head of the bilingual program in the school I work in. She was so tall and intimidating.

gang bang bang

Another awful, fear-filled dream.

I was in a bad neighborhood, running and hiding from something or someone.

Then I was in a dimly lit room with six other people. We were standing around a round table on which there were several guns. A woman explained the rules of the game.

"Group Russian Roulette. When I say go, grab a gun and shoot one by one around the room. Last one living wins."

The panic struck and I ran for the door. "Jesus CHRIST, I don't wanna play this game! STOP!!" They looked angry and panicked. They all pointed their guns at me. Then I woke up.

more terror

In the first part of the dream, I had moved back to Columbus. Fuck if I know why. I was bringing my things up to the third floor of my new place in a crummy old apartment building (you know, the kind that always smells like ramen noodles and has stained, carpeted stairs) and I saw David and Kendyl. "No shit!" David looked shocked to see me and shook my hand. Kendyl shrugged and gave me a dirty look. I excitedly tried to relate to them why I'd moved back and tell them about my life as of late, but they weren't listening. They stared blankly forward and then looked at me like I was some kind of freak. A really strange reaction from such warm and vivacious people. Kendyl looked at David and rolled her eyes. I felt so stupid and awkward. Then all of a sudden a really tall guy put his arms around me. I turned around to look at him. He was a bland, athletic looking guy about my age. He was wearing some sort of letterman jacket from some school and looked like he just stepped out of the 50s. "Umm...do I know you?" I asked him. He laughed, and then told me we had slept together the previous night. And I didn't even remember him.

In the next part of the dream, my mom had called me and told me to come over because she had found my older brother (apparently he hadn't been heard from in a few months) and that I needed to see him. I felt an angsty knot in my stomach on the drive over. I wasn't looking forward to whatever fucked up drama my family had in store for me this time. I went into the house and my mom's expression was cautious. "Kenny, she's here," she yelled over her shoulder. My older brother came staggering out. He didn't have any eyes. Just two little black marks where eyes had been. He was horrifying to behold. He jerked his head around in every direction as if sniffing the air. "Is Melissa here?" he asked in a stern voice. I shrieked and cried and asked what happened. "What did you get into now? Who did this to you?!" He said nothing. He just sat on the couch and smoked. He was very negative. Every word out of his mouth was vitriolic and flittery in his usual manner. Things like "Yeah, that's nice. Why don't you fucking take that knife, put it to my throat, and end this shit you stupid fucking cunt." He was being alternately quiet and mean. He looked like that villain from Dick Tracy. I felt so awful for him. I understood why he didn't want to live. It was an awful, deep, dark feeling. That things DO get shitty and some people can never get their heads above water and some people ARE better off dead. I remembered how unhappy Ken was before, drinking his life away. And now he would spend the rest of it blind and yelling at people, cursing my mom for not bringing him beer. Until he'd eventually stagger out of the house and get as far as he could before jumping off an overpass, getting hit by a car, or being picked up by police and spending the rest of his days in a psychiatric hospital like my younger brother. Not alive. Not happy. Basically a vegetable.

What a terrible way to start the day.

childhood

My little brother and I, playing with those robot-car-ball thingies. Those toys that are in the shape of a ball but break apart and become something else when you throw them. Mine turned into a little white Fiat type of car, and my little brother had a red hot rod. We were racing them around, just being kids. Then all of a sudden a boy I'd never seen before ran up and started attacking me, trying to get my pants off. I was screaming and resisting and my little brother was too, but was powerless to do anything about it. I finally managed to push him off of me in a great bout of anger.