Crisis Dreams


most of you probably don’t know this, but i often have epic action-adventure dreams, usually fighting nazis or imperial stormtroopers. haven’t had any good ones lately though. last night was exciting, but not exactly fun.

first i dreamt i was with my mom at her dad’s house, and we were under siege by three mysterious men. i told her to get her gun, and i went to find my grandpop’s hunting rifles. (dude, you do not just threaten MY family.) i ran around also turning out the lights. it was night time, and i didn’t want them to be able to see us clearly, plus i didn’t want us unable to see out because of the light glare. i did leave on the christmas tree for some low-level lighting. (plus, i really love the pretty lights.) and one nightlight in the kitchen.

i saw out the kitchen window a bunch of people, apparently being chased by these mysterious men. they were all running and screaming. i didn’t see the men, though. i also saw more folks outside the front door (the glass screen door was closed, but the solid door was open). also running around screaming.

my cat, mousie, was rushing back and forth underfoot. i didn’t want her to get stepped on (or shot at!), so i told her, “mousie! go home! go home!” although it wasn’t our house, that means upstairs, so she ran up the steps to the attic. my grandfather’s house is really small, it has a livable attic space, though you can only stand upright in the center aisle. it has a wooden staircase/ladder that can be pushed up into the attic area, to clear space in the kitchen.

so i ran up after her, to secure the gate. somebody had tossed a lot of stuff up at the top of the steps, junk like a battered old red leather purse and such. for some reason i thought we must have tossed it up here to protect it from being taken by the mysterious men. looking back, though, it was probably just junk tossed up there out of the way, and whoever ::coughgrandpopcough:: had done it was too lazy to have gone up there and put it all out of the way.

anyway, i was trying to clear the space up there (that’s where the ladder goes when it is up), and block the egress so mousie didn’t run back down. oddly, though the top of the steps was a mess, someone had cleaned out the rest of the attic, so the space behind the water heater and all was nice and clear… and left more ways for the cat to get out. so i was huffing and puffing, and had at least 80% adrenaline in my bloodstream at this point, and quickly trying to set up a barricade.

the dream faded out about there.


also during the night… SOMEbody leapt right onto my pillow and kicked me in the face! somebody who nearly got launched. you know, mousie is usually smart enough to wake me up before she attempts to leap into the bed with me. in fact, i was kinda wondering if it was her, or some mysterious stranger cat who didn’t know better.

worse was when i was half asleep, and i had this dream or fugue vision or something about an explosion going off in my face. and THEN a cat leaping onto my pillow. that is NOT a good combination! at that point, my heart really was hammering for a while. those explosions may look cool on tv and all, but when something blows up in your face… it is not fun.


but wait, there’s more! my mom and i were back at grandpop’s house, and somebody came to the side door and was talking to my mom. (there is no side door there.) she was trying to vet him as safe to let in. she finally did, and my grandfather said, “oh, it’s news.” it was, in fact, huey lewis. (or some guy with the same name.)

note: this next part is entirely made up in my mind, but this is how it was presented to me. it was, of course, safe to let huey lewis in, because in all his music videos, he always survived. (apparently, many musicians got killed in theirs…?) back when music videos were a new art form and more unique — you know, before mtv and ‘vee-jays’ ::rolls eyes:: — huey lews had this series of disaster music videos, but he always survived them somehow. in fact, a lot of celebreties back in the 80s go together to do a big music video with him, due to his survivability reputation.

what that has to do with anything, i don’t know. i hope he wasn’t taken aback by the fact i had a knife on him when he came into the living room. well, you have to be careful, you know. there’s those… mysterious men trying to kill us and all.


none of that was really condusive to a good night’s rest. :/ in fact, i woke up so exhausted, i actually went back to bed for another hour.

and the moral of this blog post? uhhh, i dunno. just thought i’d write down my dreams. if i ever convert my dream journals into text… well, then folks would see some really epic surreality.

if you enjoy epic surreality, i recommend Rare Bit Fiends, a dream journal/comic/graphic novel by rich veitch. he has epic serial dreams. very interesting.


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