Dreams of a functioning psychopath

Great song.  Legit track from Ke$ha's album, Animal.  I don't understand the reason why people don't respect her or her music.  She has an album that most likely has already gone at least platinum, she holds the record for highest downloaded record for a female artist (of all time), and she's only 22.  What have you done with your life that's so great?  Shut up then.

Last night I had a very strange dream.  Most of my dreams are.  As I explained to Gary this weekend, my mind is unlike any other.  I often identify myself as a functioning psychopath.  The thoughts in my mind are rarely expressed out loud, and that's what makes me functional in society.  If I were to actually do the things I'm thinking about, I probably wouldn't be alive today.  It's okay to think it as long as I don't do it.  Right?

So my dream is segmented in three pieces.  I woke up twice in the middle of the night from the cold since I decided to sleep pants-less and with only one blanket.  The dream began with me, Doug, and my mom in a hotel room.  Nothing special about the room.  Typical two queen beds in a room lit with slightly yellow bulbs.  I don't remember exactly what was going on but I do know that I was in a competition with my mom.  I cannot recall the stipulations but the events that follow were somehow the basis of our battle for supremacy.

As my mom lay in one bed, Doug was in the other.  I jumped on top of my mom and mounted her in a TOTALLY non-sexual way.  You'll understand in a second.  I grab this off the table between the beds.  

Next thing I know, I jam it into my jugular and blood starts pouring out from my neck over my mom.  I then take the same tool and stab her once in the jugular.  But, for some reason, she doesn't start bleeding.  The blade of the scraper went through her neck but her neck was soft like Jell-O.  At that point I begin to panic because I'm losing a lot of blood.  I stab her neck multiple times until she starts bleeding but even then, there's not a lot of blood.  At that point, I look at Doug and I'm about to faint from the loss of blood.  I tell him to keep talking to me so I don't fall asleep.  Apparently, the competition between me and my mom was to see who could lose the most blood and stay awake.  Doug talks to me and I end up "winning" this round.  I eventually pass out after my mom. 

Seems crazy right?  The words do no justice to the images that have been burned into my mind from this dream.  After that the rest of the dream will seem boring. 

The next thing I remember is waking up (in the dream - as in waking up from passing out).  My neck is hideously scarred and scabs are all over my neck even though I'm still slightly bleeding still.  I find a first aid kit in the bathroom and wrap my neck multiple times over with gauze to the point where my neck has become stiff.  My mom, realizing I had "won" the competition, offers to take me to eat at a buffet.  The three of us walk through a long dark tunnel with the walls completely lined with old broken down washing machines and dryers.  A homeless guy runs past us to a washing machine and opens it up.  He pulls out a duffel bag and screams in excitement.  It was filled with all of his belongings which he had hidden there before he went to prison.  Don't really understand how I knew he just got out of prison but it was just one of those things you know in your dreams.

We get to the buffet and my family is already there.  We split up to get food and all of a sudden the setting changes from a buffet to a library and the cast of Community is sitting at the table across from me.  Jeff looks over to me and asks me for my notes.  I get up to hand it to him and when I turn back around, there's a girl sitting in the seat I just left.  My notes and books were thrown on the floor and she just stared at me like she didn't do anything.  Oh well.  I walk away and there's a table full of guns just like in Call of Duty.  It takes me a millisecond to decide that I want my seat back.  I wasn't going to ask nicely for it.  I get strapped and start walking back to my table.  The scene turns into 16-bit and I have to shoot two people to get to the seat.  In my radar  I see the first person I shot is not quite dead so I pull out my credit card which has a sliding top-half - almost like if my credit card were a Transformer.  I flip the top up and down really fast and the credit card fires a bullet right into the persons skull.  Yes.  My dream weapons are insane.

At this point I wake up again from my dream because of the cold.  The last segment is a very short one.

It starts out in a giant garage complex and a few friends and I are walking towards some other people.  As I walk closer, I see that it's a group of girls, one of whom I already know.  If I had to guess, this girl has been in one out of every ten dreams.  It's funny because I never think about her when I'm awake and I haven't seen her in probably three years and haven't talked to her for slightly longer.  As I walk toward the girls, she leans in and gives me a hug and kiss.  I realize she's my girlfriend and we walk off together out of the parking garage.  This was even weirder since I haven't thought about her in that way.  Somehow we end up in my grandma's house which turned out to be where we lived together.  And then I woke up for good.

The last part was more for me since no one else really knows what the hell I'm talking about.  It's just interesting to me that the same girl keeps showing up in my dreams when I hardly think about her when I'm awake.  And I'm sure the rest of my dreams has left my image tainted.  Don't worry.  I'm not really that crazy.  I would only kill you in my dreams.

To try and clear up some of the crazy, I will try to explain why I dreamed what I dreamed.  I spent most of Sunday cleaning the garage with my mom.  We threw out a lot of junk and moved a spare washing machine we have to the back of the garage.  This may have been where the tunnel of washing machines came into picture.  While cleaning my mom picked up a pirate sword left by someone after the pirate party.  She pointed it at me and made a threatening face and said "Alex..."  I found one of my old BB guns, a USP, and pointed it back at her and said "Mommy..."  We had a laugh and went back to cleaning.  Possibly where the first part of the dream came from.  The buffet is probably just cause I'm fat.  Call of Duty is obvious and recurring.  So, in conclusion, I am not crazy.  I am "colorful". 

Until next time,

Stay out of my head.   

-Alex Thunderlips