the most excellent dream upon many more excellent dreams

so. this was my dream on the eve of september five, paraphrased, of course.

I was at some shanty-looking house in the middle of nowhere (or so I thought)...there was a lovely beach vista outback.

The house was filled with oodles of vintage furniture, all of which I loved, and my father was this large clean-shaven fat man, who looked more like the guy that played "dallas" in the movie "robot jox" than my actual father.

SOO, at some point in the dream, we went shopping, and I could have WHATEVER I WANTED...thus I got alot of things, but I distinctly remember my favorite purchase, a pair of white knee-high roller skates, with light blue poofs on the toes.

anywho, the dream progresses to the end point, where i'm digging furiously in a drawer underneath the television in the house, looking for in particular "pink" and "yellow" pop ice (if you like pop-ice, you know what i'm talking about), because my father (who didn't look like my father) is coming to kill me, or beat me severly...the lights aren't working in the room, except for a shitty lamp, which I grab and attempt to remove the lampshade. In doing so, the lightbulb comes out as well. Annoyed, and still rushed, I screw the bulb back in, sans lamp shade, and dig through countless green and orange pop-ice, until I find three pink, and one yellow (I quite fine ratio by me).

So I've found the pop-ice, put my roller skates on, and made a run for the lightly-wooded area adjacent to the house...and here comes fatty outside after me, although i've had a head start. I'm hiding behind a tree that i'm thinking isn't wide enough to hide my roller skates..but I move left and right around the tree as the "father figure" comes out into the woods looking for me yelling "devin...DEVIN...i'm gonna find you..deeeeevin". he comes right to the other side of the tree, but I keeping moving around it, staying hidden...in a line-of-sight sort of way....and thankfully he gives up and starts walking towards the house. phew.

The whole walk to the house, he's muttering some sort of grandios bullshit about how "i'm nothing without [him]" and blah blah blah. I make a run further down this hill, where I can just peer over to see what he is doing...and thus I see him mounting a cow (what?) and riding the cow full speed towards a set of trees...and then he ends his own life, purposefully, by jumping from the cow and breaking his neck on one of the trees.

I turn around, have a nice casual walk towards the beach (mind you, i'm walking in my head, but actually wearing roller skates), I pass the house swimming pool, which is filled with all the vintage furniture from the house...bobbing about in the pool. (also, the swimming pool sits atop a ridge that has the spectacular ocean view, and there is a large hundred or-more colorful brick staircase down to the beach)..so I casually pass by the pool thinking "oh what lovely furniture" when I remember "i've got a 40bag in my pocket!, I hope it's not wet"...and thus, it isn't. sweet love.

So I proceed down the staircase to the beach, where two chaise-style beach stairs are setup...and in one sits Elijah (for those who don't know, my songwriting partner, lead singer of the gates of berlin and constellations) with a ridiculously giant glass filled with fruity alcohol goodness, and the other seat is empty, for me. With the same ridiculously giant drink on the table adjacent my seat, I have a sit and start sucking profusely through the over-sized bendy straw, and to my delight, it tastes strangely like alcoholic pop-ice.

So we're sitting enjoying a good sunburn, when out of nowhere comes a cruise ship, very titanic-esque...but it's full of shouting mad people, from what I can hear...they're yelling "shark, shark!" I look closer to see two sharks galavanting about the deck, eating people left and right, and then rather quickly, the ship capsizes and sinks.

HAHAHA.

A few of the survivors (i'd say about ten to fifteen) come upon shore, gather their things, and one politely asks me (smiling, mind you) where the nearest gas station is...to which I point down the beach to my right, although now the beach is a large sidewalk, and the ocean amazingly now has turned into a giant cul-de-sac with a palm tree median stretching down the middle of it. so it goes.

All of them follow single file (very jolly for victims of a ship-sinking shark-attack, I thought) down the sidewalk (which used to be the beach), exempt for one straggler, a british fellow with bad sunglasses and messy blond hair, who notices the 40bag in my hand, and says:

"might I have a bit, I mean, I noticed you seem to have plenty of fun on your hands already" (pointing to my roller skates).

me:

"yeah, I suppose I do, don't I?"

we share a little chuckle..and then I respond:

"no, you can't"

Elijah and I look at each other, have what I like to call a big "Harvard Laugh" (a Harvard Laugh is a snide, pompous chuckle that makes the receiving party want to hit somebody) and the man slumps away, displeased.

then, I wake up. giggling.

the end.


I suppose that's what you get for watching rare outtakes of "This Is Spinal Tap" for three hours before bed.