Oh man, I dont know what I did to prompt the wierd dreams but I had the most bizarre dream last night. Whats it got to do with the things I post here? Oh, keep reading….

I dreamt I was living back in NY. I was taking the subway home and got off at the wrong station. As I walked through the station to find the train Im supposed to take home, I become aware that the illegal handgun, in this case a S&W 622, is shifting around uncomfortably under my jacket where I have it tucked into my waistband. So I wander through the station until I meet this large cop played by, interestingly, by Barry Shabaka Henley (Lt. Castillo from the Mimi VIce remake). So I say to him “Can I get to Kings Highway from here?”. He says I can and then calls me by name. I ask him how he knows my name. He says he knows everythign about me, he’s my guardian angel. “Yeah, right.”, I say. I notice his uniform is missing a badge, gun and radio and I point this out to him saying of he really were some sort of otherworldy figure he’d have gotten little details like that correct. He shrugs and says the current uniforms are too uncomfortable but that if it’ll make me hapy…and suddenly a badge, radio and gunbelt materialize on his polyester uniform. That gets my attention. Pepole are walking by staring at me and I realize its because to them I’m standing int he middle of the subway station talking to empty space. No one else, naturally, can see him. I ask him why he’s here. He says “To keep you from making a mistake. See those doors up there?” he says pointing to the doors at the top of the stairs leading to the platform. “Yeah?” “You want to close those and the other doors in the next 35 minutes.” In this dream I take this as a sign that something very bad, very loud and very radioactive is going to happen in about 35 minutes. I start walking towards the stairs and Im no longer in the subway station, instead Im in an office building. I hear on the radio about some big international going on, probably at the UN, and Im thinking to myself ‘this is it. Whatever happens is because of this international event.’ I wander the office building noting where the windows are, the exits and thinking how Im going to shelter in place when things go south in a hurry in x minutes. Although I dont have any interaction with him, he’s more of a spectator, theres another otherworldy person standing around watching, played by, and Im not making this up, Marc Singer. As I’m roaming this office building trying to get my ducks in a row, I notice theres a girl walking around who, for lack of a better term, is causing mischief..tainting peoples coffe, disconnecting their phones, etc. and apparently no one can see her except me. So what we’ve got here is another otherworldly type causing mischief. See a pattern here? Good and bad guys in this drama? I’m listeningt o the day to day stuff going on around me and I think to myself ‘all this is about to change’ and thats pretty much when theres a big flash of light. I hit the deck and yell for everyone to do likewise, get away fromn the windows, cover their head, and close thier eyes. I hear screaming and feel a wave of heat. I hear more screaming as the windows explode inwards and people nearby them get peppered with glass. More screaming as people are blinded by the intense light. I open my eyes just a fraction and even through my hands I can see how bright it is. After a moment I open my eyes. Where the light had come through the indows everythign is burining hot to the touch and some people burn themselves badly as they brush up against file cabinets and metal door frames. Im on the floor and all I can think is “I need my bag” and Im wondering if Im going to have to shoot anybody. Im crawling around on the floor and as Im reaching for my bag I think that things are going to get very ugly very fast. One of the other survivors is crawling around on the floor with me and finds a paper bag full of candy from an office party. I comment that they should hide it since people will probably kill them for it later as the food runs out. I get to my bag and start trying to find my way out of the building. About this time one of the ‘bad’ guys corners one of the ‘good’ guys (the Marc Singer one) and kills him in a most disturbing manner … he stabs him with some object and all the flesh melts off of him leaving a clothed skeleton crumpled on the floor. The bad guys stare at the mound of bones and clothes for a moment and it rises, reanimated, into a skeletal zombie…as do the hundreds of dead office workers. All heading to the stairwells to head to the floor Im on. So now Im in this darkened office building, I hear shambling all around me, all Ive got is this .22 auto and Im hoping to hell I’ve got a couple boxes of .22 ammo in my bag. I grab my flashlight in one hand and pistol in the other and start running, throwing shots down stairwells as I run by. Then it occurs to me, ‘hey, this has to be a dream. If I just open my eyes I’ll be fine’. So thats what I do and -presto- Im back in my bed unable tog et back to sleep.

And that wasnt the only wierd apocalyptic dream I had last night either, but it was the most entertaining and disturbing one. Zombies, guardian angels, b-list actors, d-list actors, end-of-the-world-and-all-I-have-is-a-.22 angst, that dream has it all.