Dream 02.01.10

I had a dream. This is the second time I’ve had this dream. I know this. But this time, it finished. I think.

Once again, my mother had taken me to some sort of hospital. I’m there to get a physical. The nurses all say I’m there for a physical. I’ve never gone to the HOSPITAL for a physical, just the doctor’s office, but it’s my mom taking me here, so I don’t question it.

The nurse has all sorts of numbers on her desk, all printed on big plastic things. There’s so many people here . . . we’re given the number 99, and told to go look for it. So we walk around this massive room. It’s like a library, it’s fully of things and stuff, books and tapes, maps and toys. The bookshelves move in some places to open up to new areas. All around us, numbers. Ever increasing numbers. We got to about 87, then mom decided we go around the other side. Was it mom, or was it me?

We (Though looking back, I was alone) go through a door, passing several patients in cubicles with broken arms in slings, and come in the other door. More stuff, but it starts at 499, counting down. So I go back. I meet up with Mom and Dad near number 99, and say to them, “Don’t worry, I just had a small trouble navigating this maze.”

50 old biddies cackled in response, “Aww, she was lost, how cute?”

We make it to room 99 and enter. Everything before this point in the journal was ONLY last night’s dream. Below is a part shared.

It’s quiet. I stare at this couch just below the front desk for a while. It’s blue, and round, and there’s a teapot behind it. Someone asks me if I want tea, and I say yes. The teapot pours itself some tea, and when I ask it for mine, it throws the teacup on the ground. It breaks, but comes back next to the teapot. The teapot repeats. The teapot and the couch suddenly turn into masses of clay.

The next part was only last night’s dream.

The two masses of clay, one red, one blue, begin battling for no reason. It’s an amazing gooey battle, and I watch it for some time. When it ends, I notice my parents have gone.

Back to shared. I decide to walk around in the first dream, I began solving puzzles around this place like in a video game. There were gems and crazy people, and boxes, and lifts involved. An entertaining dream.

However, in this one, I walked quietly over to two old women in wheelchairs. On the ground next to the further one was a stone ocarina, similar to one I own, except the holes were bigger, and there were more of them. I was tempted to keep it, but instead, I tapped the old lady on the shoulder and returned it to her.

I walked around to the front of the two, and got a look at the other old woman. It, for some reason, was my grandmother Bisson. I pushed her chair back a little and found a two pair of shoes similar to my blue ones, but the other pair was tan. I started to cry in the dream, and grandmother started to laugh.

I don’t get this place. At one moment it seemed fanciful and fun, while in the next, it was frightening. Looking back on it, I have a feeling that my parents had lead me (and I acted unquestioningly) to a mental institute and had me put away. I was lost in my fantasy world, and the truth hit me somehow . . .

Prior to the start of this dream, I dreamt of an arcade based on one giant game. You’d have to go from part to part, finish one and move on to the next. Each was a different type of game, but it was all the same game. When I got to the pinball section of the game, it had been broken by none other than my brother and his friend Mike.

I tried to play, but they kept throwing more and more candy into the thing. The little silver balls had to dodge not only the built in bumpers, but now my brother’s candies as well.

I finally realized that I couldn’t play like this, and I was so close to finishing the game.

The dream switches to Half-Life/Quake type graphics and weapons, my brother and I are fighting, I win, per usual, and take his place at the next section of the game.

Mother asks me where my brother is, and I tell her he’s in the army. I was dancing around the place, “My brother got called off to war! See? Here’s his PS2!” and I run into some sort of lounge and grab a tan back pack, and hold it up.

This is either the end of the dream, or it was the beginning of the mental ward dream.
Maybe I killed my brother over a game and went insane?

Weird night.

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