Stress Dreams

They can be just as whacked, if not worse than fever dreams.  And BOY were my dreams whacked last night.

The only starting point I can provide is being at a friend’s former house.  It was abandoned, and I was scoping the place out for some an upcoming documentary, and people I didn’t know were there helping me.  I remember telling general stories about each of the rooms, until we made our way into a hidden attic.  This is where the bizarre begins.

The attic was sort of finished.  It turned out to be the first bedroom for my friend’s daughter – all because the room had a secret room in the closet, which was poorly hidden by a piece of wallboard.  And of course one of the guys helping me document decided to peel the wallboard away, to find out what was behind it.

The following possibly has to do with how many secret room discovery videos I’ve recently watched on YouTube.  And they’re all creepy, of course.

Next thing I know, the guy who removed the wallboard is screaming, and yelling that we need to get out.  But I didn’t want to leave, even though I was scared shitless.  I needed to see what was beyond that wallboard, because I’m an idiot, and I’m also one of those dingbats who opens the basement door when there’s a weird sound – like in the movies.

Low and behold, an entire other house-sized attic was attached to the existing house, and it was mostly in shambles.  It led to an underground torture chamber, where rituals were possibly performed.  Then, weird red giant slugs that looked like human tongues were suddenly chasing after us.  The only way to avoid them was to climb the rickety rafters, and monkey bar our way to the underground chamber.

Luckily the door to the chamber was solid, and the slug tongues couldn’t get through it.  But what awaited us below was much much worse.

The first person waiting for me – after everyone else f*cking abandoned me at the door – was Bobby Carlyle.  If you don’t know who he is, he recently portrayed Rumplestiltskin on ABC’s Once Upon A Time.  Great series, btw.  But Rumple in my dreams wasn’t as evil as in the tv show.  In fact, he was a recruiter of sorts.  And anyone who passed through that attic door was forced to train for the coming apocalypse.

Yep.  This underground chamber was like an entire different dimension.  It was dark and dismal.  There were weird carnival rides, and you were forced to ride them to prove your strength.  If you threw up, you were sent back through the attic door, and tossed to the slug tongues for consumption.  This should be a movie, for f*ck sake…

Then my brother showed up, and he turned out to be one of the ride operators.  Thank God he told me the secret to not throwing up, which he hates watching, because he has extreme emetophobia.  Doesn’t everyone???

I can’t remember which other celebrities were in my dream, but there were quite a few, and they turned out to be the leaders of the pre-apocalypse revolution.  OH!  I remember now!  Jack Nicholson was one of the celebrities, and he was the one deciding who got to go on which rides.  The bad part was, all of the rides were like this bullshit.

Excuse me, where’s the merry-go-round, please?  I might die from a stroke.

But then my father showed up in my dream, and starting telling me not to be such a wuss, and to ride one of the scary ones.  UGH!!!  But as soon as I got on, and the ride started, my bladder kicked in and saved the day.  And then I didn’t want to go back to sleep, because those rides were scary AF!

PS: Yes, I’m under some extra stress lately.  While I can’t go into details, I can assure you it isn’t good.  But, I’m doing my best to keep my mind busy again.  Hopefully I’ll be able to provide more content once again in the near future.  Maybe sooner than later, if these whacked stress dreams keep up.

 

 

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