Dreams

I just woke up from some intense dreams. I had a truck. I had a girl. I loaded the truck with hay. I got my girl and we drove through some mud. I lost the hay. I lost the girl. I drove the truck down the road. They were tunneling out in the back field and putting in big wells. They turned the entire area into a big greenhouse operation. People were growing flowers, and genetically-modified cauliflower that tasted like bananas. I parked the truck. I got out and talked to the workers. They gave me a bag of weed and hash. I started to smoke. The overseer came. She confiscated the truck. She tried to get me to stop smoking. I sang Bob Marley’s No Woman, No Cry and kept smoking. I walked off into the greenhouse. The workers gathered around me. I gave a lecture on eating good food for health. I turned into an Indian man. I got a following. I came back the next day. I started to lecture again. Another Indian who looked a bit like me started to lecture and drew my following away. He was an imposter. The people didn’t like the message the imposter gave and came back to follow me. Meanwhile the workers had taken all the flowers out of the greenhouse. I went to the back of the greenhouse. There were three girls. I pulled out a pack of Newports and lit one up. The girls wanted cigarettes. I gave them my last smokes. They cuddled with me, and I woke up.

My dreams are strange, but they give me hope. It was odd that I had followers in my dream. I have followers on this blog, but I don’t even know if they read my work. Sometimes I feel like a spammer for posting so often. I should start posting some better articles than just my bizarre dreams. Oh well, another day begins.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s