Last night I wrote a post about a strange ghostly experience I had recently. I still don’t know what to think about it. I don’t know if it was real or imagination, I just know I felt a hand on my face and there was nobody else around except Rodney. I also have the faint sense of it being an elderly woman.
I deleted the post because it just freaked me out too much and I didn’t want it on here.
Well the plot thickens…
This morning, I had a very vivid dream about a man coming in and shooting people. It was in a city I didn’t recognize. A place I’d never been. I am 100% certain I had this dream.
At 10:15AM today, a man walked into a gay-friendly Knoxville church and shot people. There is absolutely no way I could have had prior knowledge of this shooting, since the dream happened before it occurred.
I’ve never been to Knoxville. Was it the place in the dream? Why did I have a dream about a man shooting people just hours before it really happened?
What is going on with me?
Last night was rough… Two of the scariest nightmares I’ve ever had:
The Catholic church I went to as a child had a separate building. The top level was where the Priest lived and and also had his office. There was also a basement level where we all went for coffee and donuts on the first Sunday of every month. It was a social thing.
In the dream, I was downstairs with my Mother and Grandma. But Grandma was an illusion, as she is actually dead. It’s almost been 2 months now, and Mom was still carrying around the belief that Grandma was alive and she was taking care of her.
Rodney was upstairs in the living room with my Grandpa, who has been dead since 1996. But again, he was an illusion which stemmed from my Mom’s denial. (She’s not really in denial, just in the dream.)
So I was sitting at the table with Mom and Grandma when bodies started rising from the graves and coming for us. Everyone panicked and it turned into mass hysteria. The corpses were screaming verses from the Bible in Latin and chasing after all the living people.
We all ran up the stairs and Grandma fell flat on her face. She was stranded on the floor, her feet kicking and body twisting as she tried to help herself up. “What about Grandma?” Mom yelled at me.
“Leave her, she’s not real! She’s dead!” I yelled back, sadly leaving my Grandma behind.
I wanted to bring Mom with me but a voice kept telling me “You can only bring one.” I don’t know why, but I grabbed a little baby from his Mother’s arms and took him to save him. I then passed Rodney and Grandpa in the hallway upstairs, and I wanted to bring them both, but again the voice reminded me that I could only bring one.
I darted past Rodney and Grandpa, again sad about not being able to save them. “There is no time! There is no time! The door will set you free,” a voice kept yelling at me.
I ran down the hallway, the door feeling a million miles away as I carried the crying baby in my arms. I didn’t know what was behind the door or how it would rescue me, but I just followed the voice.
And then it ended. I woke up breathless, panting heavily as I had escaped the chaos of my dream.
Rodney and I were staying at Mom and Dad’s house, the house I grew up in. We had brought along our 2 cats, Purr Purr and Prissy, and also our dog Petey. For some reason, there was this girl there. I guess she was a cousin of mine.
It was nighttime and I came downstairs to find Rodney and this girl, each in their own chairs, with their throats slit and their eyes gouged out. There was blood and gore everywhere. Petey was on the floor in a pool of blood, his little neck had been cut as well.
I then ran to the other room, where I saw a pair of cat paws on the floor. Purr Purr and Prissy were dragging along. Their back legs had been cut off.
I picked up Purr Purr and looked in her eyes, crying. She was still alive, but in pain. “My poor little baby girl, who did this to you?” I asked.
I put her down and ran upstairs to Mom and Dad’s room. I turned on the light and yelled for them to wake up. I then picked up the phone to call 911, but the line was dead. So I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and called 911, going over to my Dad. I was hysterical and trying to explain what happened.
Then the girl came in the room, laughing. She said it was all a prank. Rodney and Petey were fine as well.
I was so angry with her. “What about my girls? You cut their legs off!” I yelled.
“Oh, relax, they’ll be fine. Cats can live without their back legs.” she said, nonchalantly.
I was so furious! I think I wanted to kill her… really kill her.
I recently had a dream that took place in a secret garden. Like so many of my dreams, it took place in the past tense, in my hometown, when I was a teenager.
In this particular episode, I was standing outside the entrance in a t-shirt that stopped just past my balls. I’m not someone who would ever go to a nudist type of place (sorry Lewis), so I was very nervous. There were 2 girls I knew sitting in the grass, telling me to come in. I hesitated, feeling shy that everyone would see my package.
“Don’t worry,” one of them assured me, “nobody’s paying attention.”
Then I saw two guys from my school. Jock types, football players. They were standing there naked and they leaned in to kiss each other. I was just inches away from them.
My t-shirt started to protrude out and I felt embarrassed. I tried to make a joke to pass off my raging hard-on.
“Well, I guess this t-shirt isn’t going to cover much now,” I said. The 2 girls giggled, agreeing with me.
The next thing I remember was being inside the garden. It was like a different world. Everyone there was someone I knew when I was in school. Oddly, I felt accepted in this garden, whereas I never felt accepted in school.
That’s all I remember.
I’ll admit, my dreams can be pretty imaginative. But the ones lately are really some show stoppers.
First, I had a dream last weekend about my homophobe brother. I’ve had several about him actually. In each dream, he becomes more accepting of Rodney and me. In this dream, the whole family was here visiting us. It was a good dream. But one thing that stood out was a guest appearance by Rupaul.
Apparently there were these mean dogs who roamed the neighborhood. They liked to run up and growl at strangers. So Rupaul was strutting along in some tight gown (in the street) and the dogs came up to her growling and showing their teeth. Rupaul clenched up her teeth and growled right back, scaring the dogs away. You go girl.
In a separate dream on Monday night, I was driving through a neighborhood I was unfamiliar with. I started driving up a very steep hill and it was nighttime. I was in a convertible. The street ran right into Britney Spears’ pussy and I freaked out.
Oh no! I don’t want to drive in Britney’s pussy. And since the top was down on the car, I certainly didn’t want to get wet.
So I put it in reverse and went sliding back down the hill, safe from Britney.
Here’s another one of my memorable dream episodes.
Last night, I dreamt that I was touring some kind of house with my Mom and Grandma. My Grandma is 80-something, and she has trouble walking. Some workers offered to carry her up the stairs, but they dropped her right on her face. I was so upset that I started carrying her around myself.
We came across some room, a library of sorts, where two guys were discussing recipes. They printed out a donut on a folded piece of paper, which was completely edible. It was donut paper.
I carried the donut paper and my Grandma outside, and then I saw Wanda Sykes. There was going to be a wedding at this place, and Wanda was in the wedding. I put my Grandma down and yelled over to Wanda.
She was very friendly and we started chatting like old pals. I offered her a bite of my donut paper. After talking for awhile, she had to go, so I had my Mom take some pictures of us together. Unfortunately, my Mom held the camera backwards and took pictures of the things behind her instead.
I was so upset. Now I wasn’t ever going to get another chance to take a photo with Wanda. I just ate my donut paper, and that was it. 😀
Well, the freakshow continues to play in my head. If you’re keeping track, I’ve had a dream about a wolf who had HIV, a visit to my deceased Grandmother’s house, where she was resurrected and warned me I would die that night, and a visit to Madonna’s house with a dead corpse.
Last night, I had a dream that my Grandfather (who passed away in 1996) had returned from the dead and had come to visit my parents. As usual, I was living in my parents house. I have no idea why I always live with my parents in these dreams. But I knew that something was very odd about him. Yes, it looked and sounded like him. But it turned out that he was actually an escaped murderer who was being hunted by police. He had disguised himself to look like my Grandfather so he could live safely. But I solved the mystery and confronted him, things turned violent, and I had to defend myself.
I pulled his arms from their sockets, and he was on the floor, writhing in pain as I called the police. He was helpless and screaming at me. That’s where it ended.
One theme that is consistent in my nightmares is death and resurrection. In most of them, I am back in my hometown, and often living with my parents. I seem to be in situations where I have to be the hero. I’m saving my family from a murderer, or a carwreck, or curing an outcast person with a virus. I am always challenged with something, and then I face it. I guess it says something about my inner self. I guess I am strong enough to face tragic situations internally. I wonder what I will dream of next.
Last night I had a dream about a wolf with HIV. Everyone was afraid of her disease, and so she went into seclusion and decided to hate the world.
If everyone was afraid of her, then she would just hate them all. She attacked people to keep them away. Nobody dared come near her, except for me. I came to her and she tried to attack me, but I told her that I was not afraid of her. When she saw that I was strong, and would not back down from her fangs or her claws, she hugged me and her tears rained down on me.
I pat her on the back and told her that everything would be okay…that I would find a cure. Then I started doing research and became scientific, trying ambitiously to find a cure. I wanted to make her better, and cure all the sickness in the world.
I knew for certain I could find the answers somehow… I tried and I tried… I knew the cure for HIV was out there if I just put the pieces of the puzzle together.
When I woke up, I felt incredibly sad, because I did not have the cure.
I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try
But that was just a dream
– R.E.M. “Losing My Religion”
Last night, I had a really upsetting dream, but I could not remember any of it. As I drove to work this morning, I tried very hard to recall the details. Nothing. Just a blank notion that something disturbing took place.
I was listening to my iPod mix, and played the song “Losing My Religion”. The lyric That was just a dream was sung, and instantly the dream started coming back to me.
In my dream, I was back in my hometown, just like I always am in dreams. I was walking into my deceased Grandmother’s house. It was dark. I saw her sitting in a chair, and I was scared.
She told me to come over to her. I hesitated, but realized this was my only opportunity to see Grandma alive again. She warned me of 2 things. I only remember 1 of them. She warned me that I was going to die in a car wreck with my parents. She told me to be very careful when I went home [and by home, she meant the home I grew up in].
I don’t remember what else was said, but I remember getting irritated with her. Some kind of explosion or disaster had happened in my hometown, and that’s why it was so dangerous to be on the road.
That’s all I really remember. But this is the first dream I’ve had about her in a long time. After she died on July 29, 2004, I had a lot of dreams about her. Most of them were very morbid. In one dream, I tried to preserve her, and bring her back to life.
I truly do not want to accept that she is dead. I have not made peace with this issue. Just the other day, I had a story I wanted to call and share with her. Then, I realized I couldn’t call her, because she wouldn’t be home.
That was just a dream. 🙁
On multiple occasions, I’ve had dreams about Madonna. I saw her in person when she was filming “A League of Their Own” in Indiana, and she’s had a continuous role in my life ever since.
I don’t remember most of my dreams, but I do know that many take place in my childhood. I guess my subconscious mind has never grown up, and I always return to my hometown. In this particular episode, I was with my childhood friend Cathy. We were pushing a wheel barrel up a very steep hill, and it had 2 headless bodies and one live man in it. They were under a white sheet.
The barrel was just too heavy and we couldn’t get it up the hill. The man came out from under the sheets, took control of the barrel, and pushed it up the hill, with himself still in it. (Yes, I know that isn’t humanly possible.)
We were supposed to take the bodies to Madonna’s house. We wheeled them in, but it was early morning and nobody was awake. We placed the bodies in a spare bed, where a sheet continued to cover the headless corpses, and the man decided to rest. We were very tired too, so we crawled into bed with them.
Eventually the bodies made me uncomfortable, so we decided to go downstairs to play. Before doing so, I wanted to see Madonna. I was told that she wasn’t home, but I didn’t believe it. I tip-toed over to her bedroom, and opened the door. She was asleep on her stomach in silk pajamas. The door disturbed her and she moved to look over at me. I quickly closed the door and ran downstairs.
When Cathy and I got there, we were surrounded by huge spiders. We ran back upstairs to get away from them. At this point, I was really starting to get disturbed by the bodies. I kept wishing an adult would come around soon. That’s where the dream stops.
Before I tell you about my dream, I should preface by introducting Goatse. If you don’t know about Goatse, here’s the scoop. In 1999, photos of a man spreading his ass open like a Thanksgiving turkey surfaced on the net. The photos originated on a site called goatse.cx. They have been used to shock and startle internet users ever since.
There are hundreds of Goatse parodies. Nobody seems to know exactly who he is, but the graphic photo of his asshole remains a classic.
Anyway, I had a nightmare about Goatse a few nights ago. The spirit of him had possessed my paper shredder and he was trying to grind up our pets. He was an evil, hungry little paper shredder with a magnetic force to draw the animals towards him.
The only way to stop him was to break the curse by writing some sort of spell on paper, and then feeding the paper to him. In the dream, I did that and the spell freed the spirit of Goatse from our paper shredder. All was safe again in the household.
Whatta dream, eh?
Click here to see the real Goatse (Warning: VERY GRAPHIC!)