#86: Death And Rebirth

This was an email I sent to one of my friends after waking up after a particularly odd dream.

So I had the oddest dream last night and I have to recount it to someone before I lose all the details.

It began at Books-A-Million, and I ran into my high school chorus teacher who took me and my mother on a drive. Then I was in high school again (and being back in high school has happened to me several times in my dreams) and I was walking around the hallways skipping class by hanging out in the bathrooms. Then switch to me working at Walmart, which isn’t all that strange, but there was some kind of confusion over at the return counter and people kept going inside this office that had a cash register in front of it. It may have been when I went into the office that I died, I’m not sure.

Then I was Frasier, from Frasier, and I was informed that I had died, in a chemical explosion of some sort, though my memories were of driving a car (or a bicycle, I’m not sure) into a wall. At any rate I was alive again because Niles had switched bodies with me and I was now in Niles’ body, but I had lost my Frasier memories and if I tried to go back to my body without my memories I would die completely. Fun fact, when Roz entered and I didn’t remember her I thought she was a hooker. At some point we (the cast of Frasier) were on a huge field that may or may not have had a giant metal Daphne terrorizing people like Godzilla, I say may or may not because I honestly have some kind of memory of this but I’m not sure. It was then I regained my Frasier memories and so after Niles cried happily about this (oddly he looked like himself again) I passed out to wake up in my own body again.

When I woke up I was myself, not Frasier, and I had a roommate whose name might have been Jonathan and who might have been a real Jonathan I dated once, he had all kinds of questions about video games he hadn’t been able to ask me while I was dead. I also had to call in to work to explain I hadn’t been in for a couple of days because I’d been dead.

At this point I took my mother on a car drive to explain to her how I had died, and we found a house with a wall in front of it much like (but not the same) the wall I had crashed into. Also I was terrified to retrace any of the steps of what I had done that had actually killed me, though I can’t remember from the dream what exactly that was. Anyway the house with the wall in front of it was owned by a nice lady who invited us in, who had a very hot son. I was offered the guest bedroom to sleep in (my mother had left at this point) but I was informed that her husband had died in this room and she wanted everything kept the way it had been when he died, including the temperature. I ignored this and turned on the AC. I slept in the bed, or tried to, I don’t remember, when the hot son came in, informed me that I just had to put everything (including the temperature and making the bed) back the way it had been when his father died when I was done with the room. Then we started fooling around, which was awesome because as I mentioned he was hot, and also really skinny. Then after we (woke up? I’m not sure) were done, we went into the rest of the house where there was a maid, a piano, and all of the rooms were conjoined with no walls separating them, except for his bathroom. I peeked  at him in his bathroom to see him playing with his phone on the toilet, and then after he came out the maid started cleaning the bathroom.

Then I got into a battle with the maid because apparently one of us thought the way she was spraying stuff on the mirror and it bounced off was similar in some way to the Nazis trying to convert people to their cause, and so she and I started yelling and then I’m not sure if I fought her but I ran from her with my friend (who was now no longer the hot guy, he had left apparently, but was a friend of the hot guy, who was incidentally a hot skinny black guy) and when we got outside the road had turned to a river and as it happened, there was a raft with paddles attached to it and in the dream I was some kind of master raftsman, so we climbed on and paddled away from the maid who was now the angry stepfather of the house (he may have been the real father, even though he was dead).

We went downstream for a while until we were going through the woods and I found some people I knew from work, one of whom was my (incidentally gay) friend. Oh wait, before we got here we had made a pit stop at a gas station where Tori Amos had played a song on the radio that sounded exactly like Dear Jessie by Madonna with different lyrics. Also from the time we left the house until the pit stop there had been a third guy with us who was older and also may have been the father of that house, and who might have been the very same one we were running from except he was good.

So anyway we were in the woods and I carried some cute little creature with me (it may have been a cat I have no idea) up to my gay friend from work, put down the creature and grabbed him, by the back of his head to pull him close. He was freaked out because he thought I was trying to kiss him but I was just trying to whisper to him. I told him I’d had a terrible day, that I had died, and then recounted everything else to him. He felt bad for me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

And then, my gay friend and the hot black guy (who I believe I had now kissed and we had become more than just friends) went up the street to the gas station with some other people and I waited behind in the woods/neighborhood, and I peed off the side of a high porch onto everyone’s stores of fruits and vegetables. I was criticized by one of the girls there who was incidentally a character called Katara from a show called Avatar: the Last Airbender.

And… That’s it. Nothing happened after that because I woke up. I just really wanted to document all of that. So there’s my crazy dream for today. Fun fact: this is what most of my dreams are like.

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3 thoughts on “#86: Death And Rebirth

  1. Ok. That’s a really weird dream. But I guess all our dreams are. You did document it properly but not so chronologically. But what do I know? I hardly remember my dreams when my eyes open.

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