Middleditch Littlebitch

Dream #1 — Nor’easter Sunday

In a recent development, I’ve decided to start chronicling my dreams.  I used to do this as they are sometimes, as dreams oft are, fucking insane, and it even got to a point where a dear friend, Miss Leslie Gottlieb, compiled them all into a book for my birthday.  Not forgotten, Leslie.  Anyway, after much encouragement from Andree The Girlfriend, I’ve reinstated the rule that all dreams remembered must be put to the pen.  Er, keyboard.  The one this morning is definitely worth writing down.

It should be noted that last night I smoked one too many puffs of medicinal marijuana and at one point had a panic attack, fainted, and fell face-first onto the coffee table, temporarily knocking myself unconscious.  I came to, we watched the rest of the remake of Let The Right One In (Let Me In, which is good but not as good), and then went to bed.  This is the dream from this morning…

So, the dream starts off with me at someone’s house at some kind of party.  Not a raging house party, but more of a Greg Tuculescu style gathering of young adults.  The early details are fuzzy, but I recall Andree, or some girl that represents Andree, and Meatloaf, or some creature that represents a pet.  Everything’s fine until Meatloaf runs out the door and into the night.  I elect myself to fetch her and return her to the safety of the house.

Out I go, and suddenly I’m on a road bicycle.  The house is at the top of a massive hill and down I go with great confidence and enthusiasm.  The hill turns into more hill, and soon I’m winding down these roads at incredible speed.  It literally feels like 100mph.  Sure enough, one corner proves to great, and no amount of brake I apply seems to work, so I hit the far curb and tumble into the bushes.

I awake in a room.  There are classic Italian mobsters around me including The Don.  The Don then proceeds to lecture me about how I “Shoulddabeen wearin’ a helmet…” and the mobsters then consult how to punish me for my lack of safety gear.  The ideas start to get pretty severe and violent, so I decide to escape.

It actually wasn’t difficult to escape.  I think it was just that the next moment I was outside, having just escaped — you know how dreams be, yo.  So now I’m lost.  I went down the hill, was captured by mobsters, and now need to get back to the party which for all I know is on the other side of this fucked up dream town I’m trapped in.  Meatloaf, poor thing, is long-forgotten.  Suddenly the town is struck by a massively insane Nor’easter.  It becomes instantly freezing, snow, gale force winds, it’s complete chaos.  I’m running through the streets until I find a 7/11 and I burst inside.  There are some other people in there taking shelter, including two street hooligans.  They start up with each other but before it can come to fisticuffs I step in-between them shouting, “come on, guys!  There’s a nor’easter out there!”  They see reason and chill the fuck out.  The storm hits a lull and I decide that now is my chance to make a break for the house.

I run out of the 7/11 and sure enough, I’m at the bottom of the hill.  The storm, however, has destroyed everything at this point.  Like, power lines are down, even the road and the ground is all mangled, earthquake-style…it’s a warzone.  Shortly into my journey up the hill I hear kitten sounds.  Naturally, they lead to a litter of scared and frightened kittens.  I can only catch two, the rest scatter away, and I shove them in the front part of my hoodie (I’m wearing a hoodie now), zip them up, and continue up the hill.  So I’m rolling under these powerlines and dodging fucking charred busses that are rolling down the hill, all the while with these two kittens in my hoodie that are scratching and digging their bastard little claws in me.  The hill becoms so steep that I have to get really low or I’d lose my footing on the pavement and slide all the way down.

I finally get to the top but the last leg of the hill has been disfigured so greatly by the nor’easter that it’s jutted up nearly straight vertical.  I see the house and call out.  People start coming out and are like, “Tom’s back, Tom’s back!” and I start screaming, “Take the kittens!  Take the kittens!” and I’m handing these fucking kittens up to the partygoers like I’m some kind of cat hero.  I don’t even really like cats all that much, but lucky for those little guys I was there out in that storm dodging power lines.

I wake up shortly after, just before I got to see myself hoisted up onto the final ledge of the hill.  What sacrifice.  I’m so noble, saving the poor helpless kittens before myself.  I actually think the rationale behind giving up the kittens was so I could hoist myself up because I couldn’t do it with them scratching at my belly.

I’m fine after the tumble last night if anyone’s wondering.  There are some bruises on my chest, and my teeth ache, as well as my chin and nose — Andree was shaken, she thought I was dead or paralyzed.  I mean, I went stiff and then went face first on the table, snapping my neck back.  I don’t remember that.  In fact, Andree tried to catch me but in my mind I started to fall and Andree body checked me into the table.  Clearly not the case.

Dreams.  Expect more.