The Vault

To add to the weird dreams I described in my last entry, just last night I had a very vivid and more or less insane dream.

It starts in a busy city. I'm standing on a cobble road and it seems sort of like an olde english setting, except there are skyscrapers. There's a lot of people standing around.

Suddenly the ground starts to rumble. Somehow I know that there's a massive amount of water welling up beneath the city. Fuck. I look at a fire hydrant and it blasts open, shooting water high up into the air. I look down the street and like dominoes every fire hydrant (theres one every building) does the same thing. I look up at a window and it explodes open with water gushing out. Everything starts breaking apart and every window in the city is blasted out and floods water onto the street.

Next thing I know I'm in the aftermath. Everything is broken down and people are chaotically running everywhere. I am with my parents and we are trying to figure out how to survive. For some reason I have a large handle of vodka in my hand. Huh. I toss it into a shelter which happens to be on fire and the entire place blows up. We go inside after said explosion and everything seems to be just fine. There is a large cooler of Coke Zero in this shelter and over the course of the dream me and my parents survive off of these sodas, but eventually begin to run out.

However, before we can run out, the dream changes around. I am now tied to a chair with my friend being fed strange objects by three witches. I know that at least one of them is supposed to kill me. I have a flashback to how we were captured and I recall me and my friend getting knocked out in front of a staircase and the witches coming and pouring some strange blue liquid out of Erlenmeyer flasks on us.

I then remember that the whole thing was actually a PLAY that I am watching. I leave the theater and see a dance major in my college whom I have never talked to. He looks like a tall african god (as he does in person). We have a conversation about the various people coming in and out of the theater, and after this point the dream ends.

I wake up only remembering the very last part, and think, bleh, thats not worthy of even putting in my dream journal. But I started writing anyway and when I did ALL the rest came flooding back (excuse the pun). I'm glad I decided to start writing.