Last night I had one of those dreams that flashes around to different scenes and situations.
From what I remember, I started out being chased around by something I couldn't see. And surprise, surprise, I couldn't run fast... I hate that. There were other people and animals running frantically from it, too, but nobody could see it. And people were rioting... I turned to look back at what I was running from once and saw a group of men, some of whom riding in the back of a pickup truck with semi-automatic weapons, run down this guy and kill him for no good reason. I remember thinking that now I had to look out for guys in pickup trucks, in addition to the invisible evil I was running from. I was mad at them, though, and looped around this building to try to head them off and do something drastic. Drastic times call for drastic measures.
Then all of a sudden I was an Indiana Pacer, and we were in the locker room after a game. My locker was right next to Jermaine O'Neal's. He got dressed, and said that now he had to go to work. I figured he had a more important basketball game to go play or something, but he walked about 10 steps, and there appeared a little convenience store, attached to the locker room. He went & sat behind the counter, looking pissed that he had to be there. I saw that his locker was open, and since I must've been pressed for funds myself, I grabbed a bar of soap out of his locker and tried to return it to the convenience store. He just looked at me like, "Are you kidding me?" I guess the Pacers were having a bad year.
2 comments:
That was awesome. I wish all superstars had to have side jobs like that, or ups delivery, or fast food cook.
I always run in slow motion from things in dreams. It sucks.
ya, read the newspaper, the Pacers are having a bad year...Well, namely Ron Artest is having a bad year...To put it in cartman's terms...He got sand in his vagina...or something like that
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