so here's the nightmare i had last nite that i've previously recounted to kate (the shortened version), but feel the need to reiterate here for remembrance sake...
so i go to this art store type thing, and i meet this cute girl who is really nice and friendly and fun to talk to. she works there though and must get back to work. so i sit down on one of the couches in the store and start reading an art book or something, when lo and behold, who walks by but bill ramos! i say hi, shake his hand and ask him what he's doing. he is apparently trying to help a group of college kids graduate by helping them get some credit hours or something like that. so that's nice.
all of a sudden i'm propelled into scene II which consists of me being in some kind of prison cell in another part of the art store. there's wasn't much to this scene other than me waiting for the perfect opportunity to escape, which i did successfully.
scene III begins with me in this girl's (from the art store mentioned above) house. i'm sitting on the couch in the foyer talking on the phone to none other than bill ramos. the time is about 3:45am and we're just chatting about idle everyday things. the front door is about 5 feet away, being glass as well as being flanked by big glass picture windows. as i'm talking on the phone, i see a dark shadowy figure approach the front door. my heart fills with terror at this, but when the person steps into the light, i see that it's a woman, and i give a small sigh of relief. (sidenote: the woman kinda looked like the female terminator chick in T3). she knocks. i tell bill to hold on a sec while i answer the door (phone is not cordless), and walk to answer it. all of a sudden i'm in a towel, and when i reach to unlock and open the door, my towel starts to fall. i grab onto it trying to keep it from falling, and while doing this i happen to glance up at the woman on the other side of the door. she has just pulled out a gun from her jacket and is preparing herself to unload on me. i see this, i freak, and i bolt. i run into the hallway at the bottom of the stairs, grabbing the cordless phone that's sitting on a table with the intention of telling bill to call the cops for me (since the phone in the foyer is off the hook as per i was talking on it shortly before). i scream into the phone for bill to call the cops, but for whatever reason he cannot hear me. as i'm doing this, i'm running up the stairs (i know, i know-never run up the stairs). all of a sudden i hear the front door crash open and the phone line goes dead. i'm fucked. and then i wake up, hands shaking, eyes darting around the room looking for psycho bitches with guns.
lemme tell you it was about the worst dream i've ever had. and to top it all off, i have this dream while i'm sleeping at this temp apt. that i have to stay in, all by myself, and creeped out anyways. great. i'm convinced that the only reason i did not have a massive aneurysm is soley due to the comfort bill ramos's presence in the dream provided to me.
the end.
p.s. i would like to respectfully request to my subconscious that any more dreams involving bill ramos be under more pleasant circumstances.
so i go to this art store type thing, and i meet this cute girl who is really nice and friendly and fun to talk to. she works there though and must get back to work. so i sit down on one of the couches in the store and start reading an art book or something, when lo and behold, who walks by but bill ramos! i say hi, shake his hand and ask him what he's doing. he is apparently trying to help a group of college kids graduate by helping them get some credit hours or something like that. so that's nice.
all of a sudden i'm propelled into scene II which consists of me being in some kind of prison cell in another part of the art store. there's wasn't much to this scene other than me waiting for the perfect opportunity to escape, which i did successfully.
scene III begins with me in this girl's (from the art store mentioned above) house. i'm sitting on the couch in the foyer talking on the phone to none other than bill ramos. the time is about 3:45am and we're just chatting about idle everyday things. the front door is about 5 feet away, being glass as well as being flanked by big glass picture windows. as i'm talking on the phone, i see a dark shadowy figure approach the front door. my heart fills with terror at this, but when the person steps into the light, i see that it's a woman, and i give a small sigh of relief. (sidenote: the woman kinda looked like the female terminator chick in T3). she knocks. i tell bill to hold on a sec while i answer the door (phone is not cordless), and walk to answer it. all of a sudden i'm in a towel, and when i reach to unlock and open the door, my towel starts to fall. i grab onto it trying to keep it from falling, and while doing this i happen to glance up at the woman on the other side of the door. she has just pulled out a gun from her jacket and is preparing herself to unload on me. i see this, i freak, and i bolt. i run into the hallway at the bottom of the stairs, grabbing the cordless phone that's sitting on a table with the intention of telling bill to call the cops for me (since the phone in the foyer is off the hook as per i was talking on it shortly before). i scream into the phone for bill to call the cops, but for whatever reason he cannot hear me. as i'm doing this, i'm running up the stairs (i know, i know-never run up the stairs). all of a sudden i hear the front door crash open and the phone line goes dead. i'm fucked. and then i wake up, hands shaking, eyes darting around the room looking for psycho bitches with guns.
lemme tell you it was about the worst dream i've ever had. and to top it all off, i have this dream while i'm sleeping at this temp apt. that i have to stay in, all by myself, and creeped out anyways. great. i'm convinced that the only reason i did not have a massive aneurysm is soley due to the comfort bill ramos's presence in the dream provided to me.
the end.
p.s. i would like to respectfully request to my subconscious that any more dreams involving bill ramos be under more pleasant circumstances.
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