They say that the best way to remember a dream is to write it down as soon as you wake up. In the past, it's never been a problem to do just this. However, last night, I dreamed that I was working with a group on a song. In the dream, I was surrounded by people I didn't know, writing a song that I've never heard before. Well, let me rephrase that. I'd never heard the music before. I'd heard most of the lyrics before. With my musical "abilities", I'm much better with writing down music than I am with writing lyrics. I'm fact, I'm a terrible lyricist...
In my dream, there was a drummer, either one or two basses (I can't recall if it was acoustic or electric, although I think it was electric), two electric guitars (one of which was either an overdriven or a distortion guitar, I'm not certain), and a lead vocalist on one side, and the other side was a DJ (who I distinctly remember being African American), and a small squad of cheerleaders (all girls, no guys).
In any case, it opened with the bass guitar riffs, joined by the drummer, then joined by the first electric guitar, then joined by the overdriven/distortion guitar. The vocalist came in after the guitars were done playing around and had gone to a more-or-less stock riff that they had hit upon while playing around. After the first verse, the DJ put on a funky scratch with his tables, and when he was done rapping, the girls took over, while he continued scratching.
Meanwhile, I'm writing all this stuff down on a score sheet, or trying to. The problem is that the notes are all coming so fast, that I can't really keep up. (If you've ever seen it, think about the final composition of Mozart in the movie Amadeus. For this scene, I'm Salieri, and the bands are Mozart.)
The highlight of the dream was the music. The music was awesome. It was perfect for my adrenaline mix for the gym. It was lively, it had an awesome beat, and it had hard-hitting lyrics (granted, none of them were original -- I know I heard some Ludacris and Kriss-Kross in there). The problem was that there was no way to write all this down. I would have needed a recorder next to my bed to hum/sing/beatbox it in there. It would have been worth it, though...
And the sad thing is that my MP3 player is my alarm clock. It is right next to my head. And it has a recorder on it. Curses...
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
Mass in PJ's
I was in my PJ's at Mass. I don't know why or where.
I was praying in the very front of a relatively modern church, and it was early in the morning. Next to me was my duffel bag with a change of clothes, a couple prayer books, and some music in it. As I was praying, this a minister (priest or deacon, I'm not sure) comes out from the sacristy onto the sanctuary. I look up quickly and only notice the vestments. Then I go back to my prayer book.
We all kneel down (the church is somewhat full at this point, and I'm still in my PJ's). The minister begins Mass. It's then that I notice that the minister isn't real minister, but a fake one. It becomes obvious the instant she opens her mouth. I'm still concentrating on my prayer book, so I still don't actually notice the gender of the priest, but in my subconscious, I know it's a woman, and I'm praying that my ears are fooling me. I refuse to look, because I don't want to get mad in the middle of my prayers.
As "Mass" continues, we all stand up appropriately, and the entire congregation shouts at me from behind, "Go change your clothes!!!" I realize that I'm still in my PJ's. The mock ceremony takes a turn for the worse, and the woman heads straight for the tabernacle. She puts in the tabernacle key, but it will not open the tabernacle. She fights with it to open, but it won't open. She gets all embarrassed and asks for help. We all just stand there looking at her, not saying or doing anything. I grab my duffel bag and walk out.
I head over to the restroom to change my clothes. I throw on some jeans and a T-Shirt. Then I remember the situation in the church. There's no way that I'm going to participate in the rest of that blasphemy, but if no one else in the church has a problem with it, then I'm not going to get in their way on their fast track to hell -- certainly not the right thing to do in real life, but it was a dream. I remember this building from a previous experience here, where I had taken a paper clip and picked the lock of a small case that held a book I wanted to see. It was in one of the halls that was leading to the church.
I go back to where this case was and, to my surprise, it's in the exact same condition it was when I picked the lock. I took the paper clip out and walked back to the church. My intention was to throw it at the people and shout, "BURN IN HELL!" Instead, I opened the door to a huge party going on. If you remember the closing scene of Star Wars I: the Phantom Menace, where Boss Nass holds up this blue ball and shouts "PEACE!", and everyone suddenly starts dancing, that's what I was faced with, except that she was holding a ciborium over her head. I looked for the culprit who had opened the tabernacle for her -- a dirty little mexican was standing right next to her, looking very pleased with himself.
I woke up to a mild adrenaline rush as I prepared to end this blasphemy in the style of Judas Machabeus...
I was praying in the very front of a relatively modern church, and it was early in the morning. Next to me was my duffel bag with a change of clothes, a couple prayer books, and some music in it. As I was praying, this a minister (priest or deacon, I'm not sure) comes out from the sacristy onto the sanctuary. I look up quickly and only notice the vestments. Then I go back to my prayer book.
We all kneel down (the church is somewhat full at this point, and I'm still in my PJ's). The minister begins Mass. It's then that I notice that the minister isn't real minister, but a fake one. It becomes obvious the instant she opens her mouth. I'm still concentrating on my prayer book, so I still don't actually notice the gender of the priest, but in my subconscious, I know it's a woman, and I'm praying that my ears are fooling me. I refuse to look, because I don't want to get mad in the middle of my prayers.
As "Mass" continues, we all stand up appropriately, and the entire congregation shouts at me from behind, "Go change your clothes!!!" I realize that I'm still in my PJ's. The mock ceremony takes a turn for the worse, and the woman heads straight for the tabernacle. She puts in the tabernacle key, but it will not open the tabernacle. She fights with it to open, but it won't open. She gets all embarrassed and asks for help. We all just stand there looking at her, not saying or doing anything. I grab my duffel bag and walk out.
I head over to the restroom to change my clothes. I throw on some jeans and a T-Shirt. Then I remember the situation in the church. There's no way that I'm going to participate in the rest of that blasphemy, but if no one else in the church has a problem with it, then I'm not going to get in their way on their fast track to hell -- certainly not the right thing to do in real life, but it was a dream. I remember this building from a previous experience here, where I had taken a paper clip and picked the lock of a small case that held a book I wanted to see. It was in one of the halls that was leading to the church.
I go back to where this case was and, to my surprise, it's in the exact same condition it was when I picked the lock. I took the paper clip out and walked back to the church. My intention was to throw it at the people and shout, "BURN IN HELL!" Instead, I opened the door to a huge party going on. If you remember the closing scene of Star Wars I: the Phantom Menace, where Boss Nass holds up this blue ball and shouts "PEACE!", and everyone suddenly starts dancing, that's what I was faced with, except that she was holding a ciborium over her head. I looked for the culprit who had opened the tabernacle for her -- a dirty little mexican was standing right next to her, looking very pleased with himself.
I woke up to a mild adrenaline rush as I prepared to end this blasphemy in the style of Judas Machabeus...
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