Dream Journal Ultimate
Date: 12/17/2024
By Swords
I am walking over snow plow drifts in an old Toronto neighbourhood, blowing things up with a fire cracker gun. The goal is to hit a snow bank, exploding it over moving cars on the street. There are a small number of us, some sort of organized contest, not to kill but certainly to irritate. I break off on my own for an easier escape, as we have been blowing things up for a couple minutes and police are sure to come. I start paying attention to vehicles and passengers. May need to know faces for the trial or dream analysis session friends are recommending for therapeutic purposes. I walk through the lobby of a tall, glass, banking or insurance building, and back outside, hoping to blend in. People on the street don't recognize me. But I have a couple of shots left. I raise my gun at a truck driver who widens his eyes, recognizing me from a few blocks ago. I shoot and miss, but my cover is blown. Strangers are staring me. I should use my last bullet and toss the gun so there's no evidence on me. Bin Laden is walking down the middle of the road with body guards. He is old now, and stooped. I shoot him in the chest and run. I realize the explosion could kill him, and I am afraid. I run through back gardens of old city town houses without fences. Nobody can see me here. I have been in this dreamscape before: stone walkways, gardens, faceless rear windows. I come to a chain link fence. I'm not sure if I can climb it. There is a gorilla, a monkey and a donkey on the other side. The monkey and gorilla are both talking to friends on an old pipe phone attached to a fence pole. The donkey is new and doesn't have friends who can use a phone, his minder explains. Doesn't seem fair to the donkey.