last night’s epic tale

so i had a dream. wait, stay with me here, and it was pretty intense. it’s been more than 12 hours since i woke up, so it’s not terribly fresh in my mind, but it disturbed the shit out of me and i feel i should share. i’ll recount it for your reading pleasure.

i was being chased by a group of people. “who was chasing you?” you ask? people i work with, that’s who. i don’t really know any of them as i choose to read instead of socialize during the few moments i can choose to do either, but i recognized the faces. they didn’t chase me the entire dream.
i was hosting a party at home, and similar to real-life, it was in a basement loft. it was really far underground, almost like some metro stations here in montreal (namur. or maybe verdun.) the cops showed up and, as i tend to do when i’ve been hitting the bottle, i wasn’t having any of their sass. somehow this turned into a chase. the cops weren’t chasing me anymore, though. every time i would look back to see how far behind my pursuers were, i would see a different familiar face of someone i’ve seen at work. the most disturbing part is yet to come.

i realized, or rather they demonstrated to me through several acts, that these people were ruthless, and would stop at nothing to capture me and prevent me from escaping with my precious cargo. (yes, for some reason i realized that i had something in my pocket that these people absolutely could not let me get away with.) so after racing through underground malls, a fake-out in a public bathroom stall, and a close run-in on some escalators (similar to the ones in the hall building at concordia- for you montreal/concordia locals) where i made an amazing fake/ninja-style acrobatic getaway, i ended up in another bathroom staring down a coworker who had nothing but my thwarting and demise in mind.

somehow he had my precious package and had alerted his cohorts to our whereabouts. capture and punishment were mere seconds away at this point. i was a desperate man in a desperate situation. i lunged for him and he turned to keep me from getting my package back. i did the first and only thing that came to mind as i thought of my imminent capture- i plunged the index and second finger of my right hand INTO HIS EYE SOCKET, FELT BACK BEHIND HIS EYE FOR THE OPTIC NERVE, WRAPPED MY FINGERS AROUND IT, AND LITERALLY YANKED HIS FRIGGING EYEBALL OUT OF ITS FRIGGING SOCKET WITH MY BARE HANDS (no, i don’t think i would know what that would actually feel like). I pulled his eyeball out, and threw it in a nearby urinal. I can vividly remember him clutching his newly-empty socket and oddly not screaming in pain. He was more bewildered and disappointed that i outsmarted and brutalized him than shocked that i pulled his eye out. And even more oddly, i wasn’t fazed at all. I remember thinking that it was a necessary part of my escape, then grabbing my precious whatever-the-hell-i-was-carrying and getting back on my way.

WHAT WAS THAT!?!? How’s that for a little of the old ultra-violence? who the hell dreams about pulling peoples’ eyes out? what the hell is wrong with me? does anybody know what this could mean?

comments are greatly appreciated and welcome. i’m afraid i might kill someone tonight when i go to bed.

any interpretations?

ps-i got away in the end.

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