Tuesday, October 10, 2017
A bystander rushed out to try to separate the two of them, pleading with the two of them to stop fighting, make peace and get back in their cars. The two men grabbed him and beat him until he was unconscious, and then kicked him while he was defenseless on the ground. While they were doing so, their religious affiliation became apparent, as they were calling on Allah for strength in their anger. Their tempers satiated, they both got back into their cars and drove off; the traffic has lightened up a little so that they could park their cars in the parking lot for the fields and they went to their respective practice fields.
A little while later, the man who had suffered the violence came to. He was wobbly and barely able to sit up. He tried a couple of times, but had been so violently assaulted that he either couldn't control his body due to the pain, possibly due to a concussion. As he lay on the ground, trying to slowly put himself to rights, the soccer player happened to look over. A cold look of malice ran over the soccer player's face, and he ran over to the hapless man and began bashing him on the head. After about ten crashing blows, the soccer player ran back to his field; again, the poor man lay unconscious and what now appeared to be close to dead.
Newspapers flashed across my vision. The innocent victim was a miracle survivor, but only just barely. He had suffered concussions and broken bones, even a broken neck. He was paralyzed from the neck down, and couldn't remember most of his life. However, he remembered his name and things from his childhood. He had been a faithful Muslim in his youth and had memorized the Qur'an. The only thing he could do now was smile innocently as he had when he was a child and recite passages.
+ + +
It should be noted by anyone who does not know me that I am a Catholic, not a Muslim, and that this was just a dream, not a commentary on Islam.
Monday, October 09, 2017
I don't recall the details of my previous dream in this theater, except that it was a Broadway show that I had never heard of, but I had a very minor role. As such, I wasn't given a script or time to rehearse. I was supposed to simply appear at the performances, ready to go. If you're confused by how I could be ready without a script, join the club.
History tends to repeat itself. Again, I hadn't been given a script or a rehearsal schedule. I was called on the first day of the performance, asking where I was. I came directly over to the theater and got into my costume. Before my first scene, I attempted to find a copy of the script so that I could get an idea about what I needed to do, who the other characters were -- anything. However, there were no scripts to be had. The other actors were either guarding theirs or there really were no scripts for anyone.
I had maybe 10 minutes during which time I looked through the men's dressing room, spoke to a couple technical hands, and found one of the directors, and none of them seemed remotely concerned with the fact that I had never gotten anything I needed to perform. They were only concerned with the fact that I was going to be late to the stage if I focused too much on trying to find a script. I kept looking for as long as I could, and I was finally grabbed by one of the backstage hands, taken to stage right and told that I was on in 3-2-1, and shoved out onto the stage.
I fumbled around for a few seconds. It was the scene at Old Fezziwig's house, when Scrooge was a young man. (Avid Dickens fans will note that Bob Cratchit is not in that scene and that I would have missed a few significant scenes that Bob Cratchit is in.) I joined a few other people at a table, and the focus of the stage became our table, as the other actors on it became noticeably louder and carried on a conversation. I fumbled around with Dickens-style sentences and then made a comment about how I had had too much to drink and needed to go home to sleep it off, but that I wished them a very merry Christmas, full of joy! I stumbled off stage and resumed my hunt for a script.
I woke up very shortly thereafter in a cold sweat.
Monday, October 24, 2016
The dream gets a little fuzzy around here (no pun intended), but I seem to remember the mouse hopping up into my hand and either speaking to me there, or scurrying up my arm to my shoulder and talking there. I don't remember what was said.
Monday, June 27, 2016
Monday, May 23, 2016
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Sunday, March 09, 2014
Saturday, August 10, 2013
Friday, June 17, 2011
Of course, now that I'm sitting down to type it up, I can't remember what it was. I only remember being really impressed by it.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
America was at war. The troops were deployed, and patriotism ran true in every American's blood. The SCL received a call to sing a concert in Poland for the troops. It wasn't a very busy spot, but it was a deployment central. We were working on a program, when something came up with my work schedule and I couldn't attend. I was so disappointed that I woke up.
Monday, May 03, 2010
On a side note, having never been to the real Colosseum, my mind associated the exterior with the stage. Each person had their own individual window, and they were all stacked on top of each other, so there were no rows of people standing behind each other.
Anyway, everyone else took their places in the Colosseum-windows including Dr. P, who sang in my place when he wasn't directing. Out of a massive choir, I could easily see Brittany and Beth, as they had ground and second row positions, and when I looked around, everyone else had blended into the structure well. When they began singing, the sound was an absolutely glorious one, but one dominated by the Palestrina Chorale. While the director was busy patting himself on the back for such a fantastic idea of blending his choir with Dr. Poterack's, all the while suggesting to his own choir that they paled in comparison to Christendom's.
So, after listening to the whole practice, I had to evacuate, because it was a sold-out house, to standing-room only, and even that was filled to overflowing. The choir was supposed to wait in their positions for the audience to come in (which they did in droves).
Since there was nothing for me to do except either listen to the concert from outside or go exploring, I did the latter, since I had heard the practice. Unfortunately for both of us, I don't remember this part of the dream.
Friday, April 16, 2010
The ring was different than the one that I have actually given her, but in this dream reality it was the one I had given her. It had no rubies on the sides, only diamonds, and only 12 total (plus the center stone). It ended up being much more blocky than the one she really has.
Anyway, so I noticed that there was glue or some sort of other hard substance covering one of the diamonds. I scraped it off, and when it came right off in my hand, I disregarded it and flicked it onto the ground. I checked out the ring, and thought something didn't look quite right. Turns out that there was a hole where the glue had been. I quickly searched the ground and found it. The diamond had fallen out when I cleaned the ring.
At this point I was surprised that the diamond had fallen out. As I tilted the ring, another diamond looked loose. When I moved the ring again, the same diamond dropped out of the ring. And then the center stone started rotating, as though it was about to fall out as well. I took it to the jeweler to fix.
Here's where the dream starts to get a little whacky. As if it wasn't already.
For some reason, I was in a tuxedo with tails. Christine was with me, and she was in an evening gown. When we went into the jeweler, I tossed my jacket onto a counter where a valet removed it, and then found my salesman. I showed him what happened, and he took the ring and the loose diamonds to the jeweler in the back. He said that it would probably take 1-2 hours to fix and reset, and they would throw in a cleaning for free.
Christine and I went to a dance class while waiting for the ring to be fixed. Oddly enough, in order to get there, we had to go downstairs to the basement of the jeweler, in what felt like a dungeon. The dance instructor knew Christine (of course), and knew me through her, and stated that she was really worried about me dancing in boots.
When we went through the dungeon, we entered a stadium-seating arena, which is where our class was being held. We were on stage. I woke up before we started dancing...
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Kateri S. showed up; she had been invited to a party across the street, and no one had noticed that the water was running out.
I saw another hole in a rubber tube from which the water was running, and when I tried to stop it, the tube broke and kept leaking. No one else around me had any other ideas, so they all just shrugged their shoulders...