"Rally-Crossed" - 10/25/2020

"Rally-Crossed"

10/25/2020

Sitting in a truck, in what seemed to be a Wal-Mart parking, my girlfriend, myself, and one other guy found ourselves parked next to members of the Proud Boys "militia" group, as they were having a rally. I was in the driver's seat, she was in passenger, and the other guy was in the back, behind her. On her side, one of the "militiamen" turned toward her and made some sort of sarcastic gesture. Pretty true-to-character, she returned the gesture, in an equally-snide manner. This obviously didn't sit well with him, and he began making threatening gestures in our direction. I could see that this wasn't going to go well, so I slipped the truck in reverse and backed out of the parking spot. When I turned the wheel, in order to pull into the driving lane, I had to inadvertently inch toward one of the armed men, trying to clear the parking space. Quite ridiculously, the man looked at me in total terror - as if I was hellbent on running him over - reached down to his holster and drew his handgun. I immediately threw the truck back into reverse and, screeched away, just as he opened fire and bullets began cracking into, and through, the windshield. Frantically, I spun the wheel and turned the truck around, still hearing his gunfire smacking into the metal frame while we fled the parking lot. Behind us, I could see that a large portion of their rally-goers were jumping into their Jeeps and trucks and giving chase. Between them, I could see a large, bearded, suited man (who looked like a cross between Gavin McGuiness and Connor McGregor), stalking ominously behind the trucks as if he was the commander turning them loose.

This parking lot seemed to stretch on, forever, and was part of a massive strip mall, in an exaggerated version of my old hometown of Lake Mary, FL. Trying not to lead our chase out of the relative-safety of a populated area. We looked for a police officer on the strip mall grounds. The first one we approached - after we told him that we were being followed by men who just tried to kill us - said that he was simply a security guard and that handling such a dire situation was "not his job." Nearby, we found an actual, female police officer, and tried to tell her what was happening. She didn't seem all that interested, but before we could try to convince her that we were in danger, the caravan of trucks came barreling around a storefront corner, speeding toward us and the apathetic cop.

Not wanting to stick around and find out what they were going to do, once they caught us, the three of us immediately dove back into the truck. This time - having no time to get back to our original seating - I found myself in the rear passenger seat; my girlfriend retained her front passenger spot; and our mutual guyfriend jumped in behind the wheel. We didn't even have a chance to drive away, this time, as the lead truck pulled up along our passenger side. Immediately, the truck's passenger, and at least one person standing on the bed, pulled out rifles and opened fire on us. I ducked down in the back seat, and drew my pistol. Nonsensically, I was able to return fire while pressing myself back against the seat, even though such a hail of gunfire - from that range - would have completely shredded our entire vehicle, were this waking life. From behind the seat, I could see my girlfriend up front, ducked down as I was, and firing back at them with a fully-automatic pistol. I remember becoming distracted, for a moment, and wondering where the hell she got that thing. (I later came to remember that we had been playing "Rogue Company" together, over the weekend, and that I was suprised to see, at one point, that the character she chose had a machine pistol in her loadout.)

This bombastic, unrealistically close-range firefight went on for a few short seconds, before I felt a dull thump on the side of my head, knowing that I had been grazed. Over the sound of the gunfire, I was able to yell at our driver's seat friend to get us the hell out of there. He finally hit the gas, and we lurched away from our attackers, speeding and skidding through the parking lot and trying to lose them. This eventually brought us off-road (in an area that was previously undeveloped, when I used to live in the city), and had just barely given them the slip, when our friend slumped over the wheel and began caughing and wheezing. Obviously, he had been hit with gunfire (which would have been strange, since he was the one furthest away from the shooters). Before we could really check on him, I saw the terroristic caravan of jeeps and trucks rushing through thet dirt, toward us, from behind. I jumped in the front seat (though I can't remember if I moved the driver out of the way, or if he just "disappeared") and slammed on the gas. The chase continued, back onto the street and through the small city, as night fell, and the last thing I can remember was trying to lead the chase directly toward the Sherriff's office, nearby.

Last Night's Dreams, in One Sentence - 10/25/2020

***

(I will be doing a full write-up, on this one, soon.^)

 

Last Night's Dreams, in One Sentence - 9/27/2020

"March Madness" - 10/12/2007

"March Madness"

10/12/2007

Dream #2 

(This was obviously brought upon by the recent "Jena Six" situation and/or the reaction from the noose that was hung on a professor's door at Columbia University.)

I was with an enormous group of people, mostly black, and posing some type of march, headed toward a school a few miles away. We were walking along an old set of railroad tracks that had a bunch of unconnected train cars scattered along the tracks, obviously having not been used for a long time. The group that I was walking closest to happened to be a stereotypical "thugs" and, even though I was making small talk with them, and feeling them out, I was also keeping a cautious eye on them, because I felt that they were up to no good, evidenced by a few subtle cues in their behavior. The "leader" of this certain group and I had been talking, for some time, while walking along the tracks, and he told me that he was strapped. He flashed this wicked-looking, fully-automatic handgun and said that he trusted me to get involved with their cause (Whatever that was). In doing so, he handed me a gun that was exactly like his. 

Sooner or later, something happened that caused a huge fight between many of the members of the march, instigated by the group of thugs I was with. The "leader" then whipped out his gun and started spraying into the crowd. I fell back some, and tried to slink out of his sight. At first, he was making it a point not to shoot at me. But, then, he noticed that I wasn't backing him up. He turned his gun in my direction, and I dropped behind an oil drum, tilting it up to block the gunfire as it came in my direction. I picked up the drum (which was only half a drum, actually), trying to keep it low enough to keep my legs from getting hit and high enough to duck my head behind it, and I dove behind one of the train cars. People were ducking and screaming and running all over the place. Just when I'd thought about having to use the gun the guy gave me against him, I saw the police come in. They moved in a tight squad around one of the train cars, trying to stay out of view. I put my gun away, because I didn't want to give them the impression than I was working with the trigger-happy psycho.

They were able to sneak up on the guy by staying behind the car nearest to him, and I moved in closer to get a better view. They shot him a few times before he even knew they were there, and he still kept trying to shoot back. One of the cops then moved in and shot him once in the head, taking him down. His body still seemed to be writhing on the ground, so the lead cop stood over him and put a few more bullets in him.

Things settled down and the march eventually continued. We ended up at this university and I remember a storm coming in behind us. We sought shelter in something that seemed like the Shop Class section, behind a rolling warehouse door, and stayed into the night. Sometime during that time, I was taking a closer look at the gun I was given and saw that it looked more like a power tool than an actual gun. It looked like a drill on steroids, and it was filled with a magazine full of wooden nails, instead of bullets.

(I know there was more to this dream, but that's about all I remember.)

"New World Disorder" - 12/08/2016

"New World Disorder"
12/08/2016

 T, B, M and I decided to infiltrate a Neo-Nazi rally.

We were being led down into what seemed like an underground garage, surrounded by Neo-Nazis. Most were stereotypical - white, with shaved heads - but there were a few minorities speckled throughout the crowd as well. En route to the meeting area, we passed through several rooms that looked as if they were ripped out of the "generic haunted house" handbook; various torture chambers - both physical and psychological - with a number of digital monitors showing compilations of gruesome acts of violence that were, undoubtedly, being performed on the people being held captive within this place.

We were herded into a main room and shuffled our way toward the back of the gathering of maybe a little over 100 people, trying as best we could to blend in as sympathetic to their cause, in order to observe their actions and rhetoric. One man spoke from the podium and, though I can't really remember much of what he said, it was all too constantly met with cheers and chanting from the mob.

Before long, the rallying cries began to take on a tone of suspicion and accusation, waves of negativity progressing through the crowd and making their way back toward us. The group was becoming more and more alarmed that there were traitors or 'outsiders' among them. It didn't take long before we were confronted and discovered to be...disloyal. A long chase inevitably ensued, and we were soon sprinting through the halls of this expansive facility, which was gradually morphing from a dank, dilapidated, present-day industrial setting and into a sanitized, futuristic and seemingly state-funded Base of Operations with grayed-out metal and stone interiors that looked pretty-distinctly Sci-Fi. Armed sentries pursued us while we dodged and darted within the halls, at one point coming to an annex and staring down the barrel of a massive cannon that they had instantly erected in our path before we changed directions and ran down an other hallway before the group of henchmen manning the unnecessarily-large weapon could get a single shot off.

Having split from my group while running, I was being tailed by a small squad of Nazis (now in even more militaristic attire), when I turned a corner of an apartment-style hallway, ducking into the first open door that I saw and closing the door behind me. Inside, I ran into a young woman who was quite startled by my having barged into her room. Frantically, I whispered a plea for her help and gave her a brief rundown of what had happened. Apparently, she was one of many people being held by these fascists against her will, so she was willing to aid me by shoving her into her closet. The patrol kept on searching, so I had to remain in this cramped space for most of the day. The girl ended up taking a nap on the bed across the room, and there eventually came a knock at the door. The guards were doubling back and checking the rooms, individually.

The girl didn't hear the first few knocks, or the demands for the door to be opened. Fearing they were going to burst in and search the place, I picked up a shoe from the closet floor and chucked it across the tiny apartment, hitting her with it and waking her up just in time for her to respond to the guards. She tried to get them to leave her be, but they insisted upon coming in, just before I was able to fully shut the closet door - which the girl noticed. She tried to keep their attention from the closet but, from the darkness, I could see that they were starting to glance over toward my hiding place in suspicion. When they did, the girl raised a huge stink about how they were immoral thugs, disrespecting her privacy. She was even able to call in another female friend to back her up. The friend came in, immediately chastising the guards for being so cruel as the pair whipped up some crocodile tears and began to console each other for this apparently sexist infraction. The newcomer seemed to know all about the rouse, and was playing along perfectly.

It worked. The guards, not wanting to get too caught up in this seemingly-overwhelming display of female emotion, ended up leaving the room without fully searching the place. The two strangers had saved me, and when I was sure the patrol was gone, I set back out to find my friends.

I remember one last fragment about being on the outside architecture of the base, maybe a few hundred feet above ground and cornered by the patrol, yet again. I don't recall how the whole thing ended, though.

-----------------------------------------

 (Possible inspirations: a topic recently came up, where some friends and I were reminiscing on a time when we created fake accounts for Stormfront.com, which is a "White Nationalist/Supremacist" website, and did a hilarious trolling raid on them, some 10 years or so ago. Obviously, with everything that has been going on in American politics, as of late, the subject matter has been on my mind.)

"Crazy Drunken Family" - 02/12/2008

"Crazy Drunken Family"
02/12/2008

I was hanging out with some wild, hillbilly family. We were in a backwoods kinda town, at night, and were getting completely hammered. This family had some sort of fixation with doing really dangerous shit, while drunk, and so while I was still having fun with them, I was slightly keeping my distance. Drinking what looked like Jack Daniels out of the bottle, one guy pulled out a pistol and started carelessly shooting at the propane tank beneath his BBQ grill. The bullets kept sparking off of the cylinder but wouldn’t explode. Rowdy as ever, another family member got on top of their pick up struck and started dumping gasoline all over it, yelling “WOOOOOOOOOO!!!” like the drunken lunatic he was. After he got down from atop the vehicle, one of the women, just as drunk, got inside of the car that was parked a few feet behind the pick-up. She floored it and drove straight into the back of the pick-up. The whole thing just exploded as if a bomb had gone off, rocking the entire yard and making a huge fireball. I thought that there was no way in hell that the woman could have lived through that, but the car door opened and she staggered out, laughing hysterically. 

Later, we were sitting on their porch, continuing to drink, and they were still doing crazy things like breaking glass, just to step on it with their bare feet, and playing around with knives. They also had a one-eyed cat walking around, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it had lost its other eye due to this kind of behavior. A young guy and girl decided that they were going to go out for a joyride, completely wasted, and they soon took off. After a while, I’d simply gotten tired of dealing with these people, because they were a little (a lot) too wild for me. I figured some or all of them were going to get killed, and there was no way I was about to sit there and preach to them. (They’d have probably killed me, anyway. Lol.) 

Apparently, these were my mom’s friends, more than they were mine. I was going to let her know what kind of stuff these psychos were up to, but she was fast asleep in one of the back rooms. I decided to do the same and went to another room to lie down for a while. Shortly afterward, the sun was beginning to come up. The lady of the house and one of her daughters came in and they seemed to have sobered up. I don’t remember whether or not I’d actually been asleep, but I got up and went to the kitchen to talk to them. The mother seemed to be somewhat embarrassed about the way they’d been acting and asked me not to judge them, which I told her I wouldn’t have. She started asking me questions about my past and my “relationship with white people.” Apparently they hadn’t had very many close interactions with black people before. She started asking about my mom’s as well. I gave her a brief run-down and told her that we treat white people just like we treat anyone else, that many of our closest friends were white, and that my daughter was half-white. This seemed to put her a little more at ease, and she just nodded her head. Then, without warning, she swiped up a box-cutter from the kitchen counter and held it up to her own throat, getting this crazed look in her eyes. She started manically asking me “So what would you do, if I were to just slit my throat, right now?! Would you even care??! Would you?!!” 

I’m like “What the fuck?? How could you even ask me that, after everything I just told you??” Her daughter was freaking out, telling her mom to stop, but the woman kept staring at me, shouting “Answer the question!! Answer it!!” with the box-cutter pressed up against her throat. 

That’s when I woke up.

"No Trespassing / One vs. the One Percent" - 05/30/2013 (Lucid + Chain)

"No Trespassing" / "One vs the One Percent"
05/30/2013

Dream #1

(Lucid + Chain)


Part 1:

It was night time, and I was on some rocky terrain with a girl and at least two guy companions. I don't remember why we were there, but we were on the grounds of the headquarters of some evil, military-style group; an area that we were obviously not supposed to be in. For a while, we were alone, but knew that security was patrolling around to catch trespassers. One of the men in my group called out that someone was coming, and we quickly scattered to wherever we could hide. A pair of truck headlights came over a ridge and stopped where we had been posted up, surveying the area. I had slipped down into a shallow ditch area and lay with my belly down in the water and high grass.

From the ditch, I could see the truck-full of a dozen or so SWAT-like thugs jump out and search the area where we had previously been. It didn't take long before they found two of my friends in their hiding spots - one of which being the chick. I could only watch in horror as they knocked the guy down to the knees and shot him dead. They then took the girl captive, loading her up onto their truck along with the rest of their goons.

The ground suddenly began to shake and the water around me started rippling. Something was happening to the ditch that I was in, and I started to think I might get swallowed up by it. A large section of the ground gave way and the water began draining into an opening, revealing a well-lit, hidden tunnel with a roadway leading down under the building. Wedging myself in a dark recess formed by the opening panels, I remained hidden until the truck drove down into the tunnel and out of sight, the entryway closing itself behind the vehicle.

I vaguely remember talking to another male member of our group (whom I think was the only one left) about the facility. We were checking out the windows and doors, and wondering how we might get inside to try and save the girl. While accessing the situation and trying to figure out how we should go about it, I woke up.

(After waking, I was determined to try a Dream Chain, so that I could get back into the scenario, go after the villains, and save my companion. Starting the induction audio about half-way through, I say back down and started to visualize the ditch area outside of the building, focusing on the intention to direct my next round of dreams back to that same place.)

"No Trespassing / One vs the One Percent"
Part 2:

I was back in the yard outside the building. My obscure ally from the first dream was now replaced with my best friend, T. I still wasn't aware that I was dreaming, so T and I very cautiously made our way inside the building, slinking through the halls and ducking away from any shadows we saw approaching us. We ran into a spot where there were people approaching quickly, and we had nowhere to go but into one of the many doors that lined the hall. Having no idea what was inside, we ran into the little room and closed the door behind us.

In this tiny bedroom was an elderly, southern black woman. She was sitting on the bed, facing away from us. She had a very kind voice and, though I don't remember much of the conversation, we came to find out that the villains that ran this place were a bunch of Elites who were into theivery, slavery and all other types of corruption. After a little while, we ended up rounding the bed and getting a look at her. Her face was a horrific mess of so many scars that it made her hardly recognizable as a woman. Nothing fresh, but scars that have long since settled in for good. She told us that one of the women who ran the place took a razor to her face - quite viciously, from the looks of it - for having been disobedient at one point or another.

While she was recalling the incident, a very large man suddenly walked into the room. He was wearing a dirty tank top shirt and, by the way they were talking, it seemed that he might have been her husband. He hardly even acknowledged us, except to sternly tell me that I was in his way, when he was trying to get to the dresser behind me, which the TV sat upon. Shortly after, he was gone, and T and I went back to talking to the old woman, trying to learn a little more about the organization. (Though, again, I don't really remember the conversation.)

We then heard voices coming from right outside the door. There were men coming, and it we knew it was highly unlikely that they were friendly. T and I tried our best the hide, but the room was so small that there really weren't many places in which to disappear. I jumped into a tiny nook between the TV/dresser and a small end-table beside it. I noticed a folding knife resting on top of the dresser and grabbed it, opening it up and keeping it down by my side, just in case. T tried to slip under the table, but it was still just too far out in the open. I'm not 100% sure, but I think he ended up hiding in a small closet on the other side of the room.

The door opened, and three muscular men in black walked into the room. They started talking to the old woman about something, but ultimately were acting pretty nonchalant, as if they didn't know anything was up. From where I was hiding (beside the TV and dresser), I knew the top of my head was probably visible. I was wearing a black hat, though, and tried to make it so that only the hat would show, in hopes that they might overlook me. While their attention was directed at her, I peeked my eyes up just enough to see the men turn toward the TV (and me), and I dropped my head again. I heard them come over to the TV and begin talking about whatever programming was on, still seemingly oblivious to my presence. It wasn't until one of them playfully patted me on the hat, chuckling, and said "...and we'll be waiting for you outside, whenever you decide to come out," that I knew we had been found out.

The trio left the room, and I simply stayed in my spot, wondering how in the Hell I was going to get out of this mess. Then, suddenly, Finally, I came to the realization that I was dreaming! I actually said to myself something like "Wait, this is a dream! Why the Hell am I running from these people?!" Taking one moment to look at my hands, ensuring that I would be able to keep the dream going just a little bit longer, I then got up from where I had been cowering and stormed out of the bedroom with T following timidly behind.

I burst through a large set of doors and into an enormous dining hall. The dining room table stretched from a few feet in front of me to about 30 yards away, with two distinct groups of people sitting among either end - the people sitting closer to my side of the room looking much less posh and glamorous than the ones at the far end. There were probably 30-40 people in all. The ones on the far end of the table, upon seeing me enter, suddenly jumped from their chairs and drew their weapons on me. Having absolutely no fear of their guns, I began stalking into the room, ignoring the group of un-threatening, less-fortunate looking people and going straight for those with their guns drawn, still holding the knife I'd gotten from the bedroom. When the shooting started, I simply ignored the bullets. I don't know whether they bounced off of me or just went right through me, but I barely felt them. While they continued frantically trying to take me down, I basically walked up the length of the dinner table, stabbing, punching and kicking everyone who was attacking me. In the middle of a flurry of offensive attacks, I quickly picked up a fork off of the table and, in one fluid motion, slung it across the other side of the table and straight into the throat of one shooter. Then, turning around, I saw that there was a woman shooting at me from point blank range. For a moment, I actually hesitated to attack her. However, I immediately reminded myself that this was only a dream, kicked the woman down, picked up a chair and smashed it down onto her, shattering it over her rib cage.

T, who had hung back a little (though I do think he might have been fighting, too, I'm just not sure.) suddenly yelled out that the people I was fighting weren't actually the ones in charge, and it was really the ones who had looked poorer, as they were trying to deceive us into focusing on the hired help. (He evidenced this by drawing my attention to some strange set up of the dinnerware, but I don't remember the exact explanation.) So, I redirected my wrath over to that far side of the table, kicking a little more elite ass while they scrambled and tried their best to fight me off. Finally, there was one guy left. He sat and stared at me in terror, as if he was completely paralyzed. I saw that his hands were behind his back, even as he was sitting in the chair. I knocked him out of the chair and onto the floor, causing him to drop something beside him. It was a small, metal stick with a red button on the tip of it. A detonator. Quivering with fear, he told us that it was something of a self-destruct contingency, and he had planned to kill us all if need be, but he had simply found himself to be to afraid to push the button.

Immediately after this revelation, I woke up.

(After jotting down my notes on the laptop - and with over an hour left to sleep, I reset the audio and tried to jump back into the dream for a Part 3, to continue searching for our companion who had been abducted. After tossing and turning for about 30 minutes, though, I decided that I just wasn't going to get back to sleep, and got out of bed.)

"Higher Learning: Apocalypse" - 02/27/2006

“Higher Learning: Apocalypse”
02/27/2006

(Another intense Calea dream.) This one started off on a college campus. There was some sort of rally planned on the football field, and we were all gathering up and waiting for it to start. There were hundreds of people out there - everybody just kinda doing their own thing for a while. T and I were talking about something or other, when a few men appeared high upon one of the walls surrounding the football field. It started off pretty benign. The khaki-clad, Caucasian speaker started yelling something that wasn't all too interesting, in the beginning, though I can't remember what he was saying.

After a couple of minutes, it seemed he was about to give praise to one of the star athletes of the school. He started quoting the guy's stats and whatnot as a section of the field opened right in the middle of the crowd, the crowd stepped back, in a wide circle, and gave this door room to open. I was near enough to the middle of the crowd to be able to look between the bodies of the people just in front of me, and see a large, black athlete poised and ready for the platform below him to lift and carry him up into the viewing range of the public. This is where the dream goes south.

It turned out that this rally was actually a neo-nazi rally. (There was one out here in Orlando on Saturday, I hear.) The dialogue turned into one of dissent and hatred, giving the minority of people in the audience - those that actually sided with the neo-nazis - a hell of a rouse. Scattered fists were starting to pump in the air, met sporadically with the heil Hitler gestures and the throbs of "white power!" A final command was given from the top and the crowd looked up to see a slab of concrete the size of a small car - flung from a catapult - arcing down towards us like a meteor, threading the eye of the crowd and crashing mercilessly into the hole in the ground where the athlete had stood in wait - crushing him flat. Terror made the entire crowd pulse backward from the center, in all directions, at once, just as the sounds of assault rifles filled the air - unseen bullets raining down into select areas of the crowd while we scattered. Passing the people that were once behind me, I could see that a few of the neo-nazis that were in the crowd had begun to fight and kill whoever it was they saw as their enemy, and was within reach. It didn't matter if you were a different race, sexual orientation, or were simply standing in the wrong part of the crowd. You were a target. With all of the people there, this would have looked like something out of Braveheart, if there was machine gun fire on the battlefield in the movie. It was chaos.

I ran across the football field and got to the fence on the other side. I instinctively tried one of those long jumps that I've been able to do often in my dreams, even though I wasn't quite conscious yet that I was dreaming. I jumped a good 50 feet or so, but came crashing to the ground about 10 feet away from the fence. Lol. Now, standing at the bottom, I jumped up and grabbed the top of the high fence and swung my legs over the other side. I didn't land all the way at the bottom, though, and sort of hung on to the fence with my hands and feet, which reminded me of Spider-Man. Able to see through the fence to from where I'd just come, I watched the slaughter ensue. More, hidden weapons had been broken out. This was the beginning of neo-nazi revolution and their numbers were coming out in waves. Apparently still thinking of Spider-Man, I began scrambling horizontally along the fence, and even used webbing to get from the fence to the trees on the other side of the yard. (Though, of course, none of this was able to make me realize I was dreaming. Lol. I just remained stuck in the 'auto-pilot' mode of non-lucidity.)

T and I rendezvoused later, and a lot went on that I don't remember too much of. I recall searching for my daughter. For some reason, I was calling for 'Sara', instead of her actual name - which sounds close - and I remember having to hand-to-hand a bunch of nazis as I was roaming this campus looking for my daughter. (It is only now, after waking up, that I realize I was even searching for my daughter, because in my dream I was calling out Sara instead of her real name.) What was even stranger is that when I finally found her, she was a teenager. If it wasn’t for the lingering impact of finding and embracing her, in tears, I wouldn’t even know, now, who it was I had been searching for. There is no doubt it was an older version of my daughter. Everything after that is really hazy. I remember we had to leave the city, as this was a sort of civil unrest that was starting to spread across various other cities and states in the northeast. Strange, though, that the city was up north, rather than Florida. I remember getting on a subway with my daughter, T, and some of our other friends to escape the rioting towns, and we headed out west.

That’s about all I can remember.