2012-05-31 10:03![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
melluransa
melluransaIt was weird, you guys. There were socks, plane rides, shopping, and lots of discussion about getting shot. Um. So then....
Bill and I were shopping in a Dollar General, a general store that carries silly cheap items, necessities, trinkets, and food.
Before we went to check out our items, I ran to get one last thing. When I got back to Bill, he was standing in line and talking to Bushido. The shelves around the checkout were very cramped and crowded together so it was hard to get to Bill. I got as close to him as I could, squeezing through the shelves. I touched his upper arm in a soft caress, and he looked at me.
Bushido said, "Hey look-- a fan."
"She's not a fan," replied Bill, and I looked into his eyes and he touched my cheek with his hand. His eyes were so pretty, very intense and ringed like they were in the Germany's Next Top Model photos with his colored contact lenses. I noticed it was petite mohawked Bill, and he was wearing a black muscle shirt.
Bill and Bushido moved out of the way so I could squeeze through and join them in line. I thanked them because standing there trying to get Bill's attention had been uncomfortable with the cramped aisles. I babbled on about how my foot had been positioned, and how it was a relief to be standing freely again. Apparently I babble stupid stuff even in my dreams.
From there the dream changed to being about joining Bushido's gang. Bill wasn't in the dream anymore. Bushido and his gang and I sat in a short hallway somewhere. He was slumped over, sitting at the end of the hallway and I was sitting next to him. Members of his gang were seated all along the hallway, guys and girls. I watched how they interacted. One girl's knee was cut and the other members tended to it. She was crying.
Bushido's chosen girl (he paid her to be his companion both inside and outside the bedroom) walked up to Bushido. She was very short and petite, with bleach blond hair in a ponytail. Her clothes, a pink tank top and shorts, bared pale skin with a lot of tattoos. She walked with pride, and it was obvious she had higher status than the other gang members.
Later it was just me a Bushido. We were sitting in a room on the floor again, and the only furniture was a chest of drawers. I was considering joining his gang. I gave him some black sweat-wicking socks I'd gotten at Dollar General, and he said, "Thanks. Even though I have a bunch of these, they're still very useful. Go ahead and put 'em in the drawer."
I did. I also noticed he was already wearing some of the same socks. We talked about how I was surprised he had a sense of humor, because I was looking at a picture he took in Dollar General -- it was him holding up some duck house slippers and a hot pink dish rag draped over his head.
We discussed the requirements for joining his gang. I told him I had issues with killing people, and that I probably wouldn't be able to do it.
He explained that I'd have to prove myself to join the gang. From how he was talking, it sounded like I'd have to suffer a hazing at the hands of the other members and that I'd be shot a lot. O_O
I told him, "It sounds like there's going to be gun involved."
He was like, "Yeah, there usually are. They usually shoot at you for 24 hours straight to see if you can deal with the pain."
"What if a shot is fatal?"
He brushed that off like nothing. "Ideally, that would be avoided. We'd take care of you. And whoever made that shot would be eliminated for their carelessness."
I said that I really didn't want to be hazed (can you blame me, omg). I asked what would happen if I just left at that point. He said I'd be killed because I knew too much.
"But what if I run for it, and hide really well?" I persisted.
Bushido replied that they have ways to tell if a person is hiding and on the run. He started explaining about people's backyards and the shrubbery they have, and how that is a red flag for being on the run.
But then there were chairs, and on those chairs was my bag, and in that bag was my phone, which started ringing (this was my alarm in real life). I went for the phone, telling Bushido it was my brother... and then I woke up.
I also remember at one point in the dream that Bushido and I were in a two-seater plane and fleeing from something. We were flying and I pointed at the ground, where there were clusters of simple shapes on the ground. There were circles, squares, and triangles. It was some sort of art installment we were flying over. Nearby had been a giant black amphitheater. I remember thinking I should google "giant black amphitheater" to find out what it was called and where it was located.
We flew closer to the ground, over a road. We were flying so low that it was making the cars swerve and honk. Bushido laughed at them, and brought the plane up in a steep ascent through some telephone wires. I felt the swoop of the plane's movement and noted that even though Bushido was laughing, he was still concentrating on skillfully flying the plane through the telephone poles like a pro.
...So this was a very strange dream. A lot of it can be explained! I saw pics of mohawked Bill the day previous. I shop at Dollar General a lot. At Walmart a few days ago, I saw a girl who looked a lot like Bushido's blonde-haired companion. I'd thought about Raiju's King of Kingz the day previous as well, and read her tweets so she had been on my mind. I did laundry the day before which included socks, and I even discussed said socks with my mom. I drew some shapes yesterday and thought about shapes while I was drawing. My brother is supposed to call me soon. I google things all the time. My grandfather is a pilot who takes me on rides in his two-seater plane every now and then.
There was a lot of talking in this dream, which usually never happens. My dreams typically consist of more action and adventure.
Bill and I were shopping in a Dollar General, a general store that carries silly cheap items, necessities, trinkets, and food.
Before we went to check out our items, I ran to get one last thing. When I got back to Bill, he was standing in line and talking to Bushido. The shelves around the checkout were very cramped and crowded together so it was hard to get to Bill. I got as close to him as I could, squeezing through the shelves. I touched his upper arm in a soft caress, and he looked at me.
Bushido said, "Hey look-- a fan."
"She's not a fan," replied Bill, and I looked into his eyes and he touched my cheek with his hand. His eyes were so pretty, very intense and ringed like they were in the Germany's Next Top Model photos with his colored contact lenses. I noticed it was petite mohawked Bill, and he was wearing a black muscle shirt.
Bill and Bushido moved out of the way so I could squeeze through and join them in line. I thanked them because standing there trying to get Bill's attention had been uncomfortable with the cramped aisles. I babbled on about how my foot had been positioned, and how it was a relief to be standing freely again. Apparently I babble stupid stuff even in my dreams.
From there the dream changed to being about joining Bushido's gang. Bill wasn't in the dream anymore. Bushido and his gang and I sat in a short hallway somewhere. He was slumped over, sitting at the end of the hallway and I was sitting next to him. Members of his gang were seated all along the hallway, guys and girls. I watched how they interacted. One girl's knee was cut and the other members tended to it. She was crying.
Bushido's chosen girl (he paid her to be his companion both inside and outside the bedroom) walked up to Bushido. She was very short and petite, with bleach blond hair in a ponytail. Her clothes, a pink tank top and shorts, bared pale skin with a lot of tattoos. She walked with pride, and it was obvious she had higher status than the other gang members.
Later it was just me a Bushido. We were sitting in a room on the floor again, and the only furniture was a chest of drawers. I was considering joining his gang. I gave him some black sweat-wicking socks I'd gotten at Dollar General, and he said, "Thanks. Even though I have a bunch of these, they're still very useful. Go ahead and put 'em in the drawer."
I did. I also noticed he was already wearing some of the same socks. We talked about how I was surprised he had a sense of humor, because I was looking at a picture he took in Dollar General -- it was him holding up some duck house slippers and a hot pink dish rag draped over his head.
We discussed the requirements for joining his gang. I told him I had issues with killing people, and that I probably wouldn't be able to do it.
He explained that I'd have to prove myself to join the gang. From how he was talking, it sounded like I'd have to suffer a hazing at the hands of the other members and that I'd be shot a lot. O_O
I told him, "It sounds like there's going to be gun involved."
He was like, "Yeah, there usually are. They usually shoot at you for 24 hours straight to see if you can deal with the pain."
"What if a shot is fatal?"
He brushed that off like nothing. "Ideally, that would be avoided. We'd take care of you. And whoever made that shot would be eliminated for their carelessness."
I said that I really didn't want to be hazed (can you blame me, omg). I asked what would happen if I just left at that point. He said I'd be killed because I knew too much.
"But what if I run for it, and hide really well?" I persisted.
Bushido replied that they have ways to tell if a person is hiding and on the run. He started explaining about people's backyards and the shrubbery they have, and how that is a red flag for being on the run.
But then there were chairs, and on those chairs was my bag, and in that bag was my phone, which started ringing (this was my alarm in real life). I went for the phone, telling Bushido it was my brother... and then I woke up.
I also remember at one point in the dream that Bushido and I were in a two-seater plane and fleeing from something. We were flying and I pointed at the ground, where there were clusters of simple shapes on the ground. There were circles, squares, and triangles. It was some sort of art installment we were flying over. Nearby had been a giant black amphitheater. I remember thinking I should google "giant black amphitheater" to find out what it was called and where it was located.
We flew closer to the ground, over a road. We were flying so low that it was making the cars swerve and honk. Bushido laughed at them, and brought the plane up in a steep ascent through some telephone wires. I felt the swoop of the plane's movement and noted that even though Bushido was laughing, he was still concentrating on skillfully flying the plane through the telephone poles like a pro.
...So this was a very strange dream. A lot of it can be explained! I saw pics of mohawked Bill the day previous. I shop at Dollar General a lot. At Walmart a few days ago, I saw a girl who looked a lot like Bushido's blonde-haired companion. I'd thought about Raiju's King of Kingz the day previous as well, and read her tweets so she had been on my mind. I did laundry the day before which included socks, and I even discussed said socks with my mom. I drew some shapes yesterday and thought about shapes while I was drawing. My brother is supposed to call me soon. I google things all the time. My grandfather is a pilot who takes me on rides in his two-seater plane every now and then.
There was a lot of talking in this dream, which usually never happens. My dreams typically consist of more action and adventure.
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Did you eat spicy food before you went to bed? Lol
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