Weird shit while I sleep

[anachronistic]

As my ex's woowoo mum used to say:

"Anyone who talks in their sleep are telling stories of their previous life"

According to the scientific opinion of my ex, this is posibly true.


So perhaps you were just re-living your experience as a senior officer in Luftwaffe, with a good bottle of Schnaps and Cognak.

Achso, keine Ursache, Schlampe.

Just kidding. But anyway, this could also be true, I do believe in reincarnation, but I don't believe that I was in the Luftwaffe. I know you're just fooling around but I do get a lot of shit for that.

[anachronistic]

last night i dreamed that my father was going to college here and lived in the dorm, and a gigantic rat crawled under his door and killed him.

[DoesntMatter]

but I don't believe that I was in the Luftwaffe.

I am a Waffeness Schutze. Angriff!!!!

[anachronistic]

I am a Waffeness Schutze. Angriff!!!!

Kratz die Kurve du Ziege!

[Junket]

Yeah, a lot of my dreams have something to do with death/hopelessness.

[DoesntMatter]

Yeah, a lot of my dreams have something to do with death/hopelessness.

That's because you're a hopeless **** Fras














J/k

[anachronistic]

Yeah, a lot of my dreams have something to do with death/hopelessness.

Do you ever write about them? I always write stories about my dreams.

[Junket]

Do you ever write about them? I always write stories about my dreams.

I told them to run.

I don't even know who they were. Friends? Wife and child?

I don't know.

This man, with coke bottle glasses and a straight flat-top hair cut, was running at us, at me? as fast and hard as he could.

So we ran down the longest widest alley in the city. As straight and as unobstructed you could find any dirty back alley.

The worst kind to be running away from a man with a gun.

My escape was coming to an end at the harbor. I came across a guitar lying against the brick wall. The man had gained on me and now I had no choice. The only weapon beyond my fists, I picked up the guitar and ran back at the man screaming out of fear, hatred, blood lust. I began to repeatedly bash the guitar over his head, but not once did it so much as crack. The man tried to protect his head while pushing me away. I screamed profanities swinging the guitar in a rage. Until finally, with a forceful lunge he shoved me back and almost knocked me off balance. Enough time for him to raise his 9mm and place that bullet firmly into my skull.

Everything switched to 3rd person. I saw what happened, I knew how it happened, I was fortunate not to experience it. I heard that when you die in your dreams, you die in real life.

I didn't die.

I woke up in an apartment. Yellow sheets, yellow walls. Maybe everything was white and the lights were just yellow. I'm not really sure. Things are fuzzy here, but I remember a short, fat man. He was familiar. He was the man who got rid of my body. He was my assailant's buddy, accomplice. But suddenly he was like a friend. I told him what happened to me, that his friend killed me. His friend, my murderer, there just in the other room. He told me I wasn't dead. He was right, how could I be standing and talking...with a bullet nestled comfortably in my brain matter? He wanted to show me what happened. He wanted me to experience it.

We stepped outside the apartment, and there we were, at the end of that wide back alley, right before the docks.

There I was shot again.

I felt the bullet enter my brain, but it didn't shock me, knock me to the ground like it did before.

I had cracked my skull on the wet pavement when I hit the ground. That crack was still there. I watched as the gunman walked over to the door, his bloodied head in his one hand. He knocked, and out came his short fat friend. They grabbed my unconscious body, and dragged it over and into the river.

I was lucky to only have to watch. Now I could feel the pain in my head. The bullet, the fracture. He walked me over to the river. Explained that somehow my body was preserved in that icy cold water. It didn't make much sense to me then, and it doesn't now. But somehow it...did? This is the part where I drown. He told me to jump into that frigid water. Let the tanker's propellers suck me under.

It seemed so natural, I didn't question him at all.

I looked into that dark green abyss and jumped. My muscles seized in reaction the cold. It stung my all over my body. It hurt so bad. My head began to pound with most intense brain freeze imaginable. I could still hear his voice in my head. He told me to let out my breath, and inhale the salty green. I was terrified but still obedient. I felt the vortex of the propellers suck me farther under. I touched the rough, cold, steel of the boat above. My lungs began to beg for fresh oxygen. Begged for something I couldn't give them.

Slowly I exhaled.

Relief.

Inhale. Inhale. Inhale.

I opened my mouth, my nostrils flared, and with every bit of strength I had left, inhaled the water.

Like it had been my first breath.

[DoesntMatter]

Fras you are genuinely crazy

[Illusional]

i doubt that it's anything... so i had this dream last week where me and some people were in some sorta group fight. well some guy snuck up behind me from the back and grabbed my nuts.. yes it was a really weird dream. in the dream i was trying to elbow him, being he was facing my back and i couldn't really get off a good throw. well i whipped my body around only to awaken and physically punch my pillow thinking that it was his face.

you probably were acting out your dream, and being that it's near the you awake, your body was already well rested enough for you to be physical. just as in my case, after i punched the pillow i woke up and went about my day not really giving it a second thought.

raverboy