...are not to be had by me. Last night's dream was so vivid & queer, oops, I meant "clear". Here's what I remember of the dream (nightmare):
So, it basically was about everyone going mad and physically hurting each other. It was no longer safe to walk the streets of L.A....well, you know what I mean. Men and women would pick fights at random on the streets...and fight to the death, they would.
In once scene, I found a baby, wrapped in a filthy, greasy blanket, lying next to a trash can. I didn't own a car, so I had to walk the baby to the police station. When I got within eyesight of the police station, a cop noticed me and shouted to everyone nearby: "hey, he's got a baby...let's kill it". The crowd turned their attention to me & started to run toward me to get the baby.
I turned in the opposite direction and ran as fast as I could, screaming for help. I was able to escape the mob by ducking into a burned out office building. I found myself standing in front of a door that had my employer's name on it, so I walked in. There was an Amazon of a woman standing in the middle of this office. She was gorgeous. When she saw the baby in my arms, she asked if she could hold it. I handed her the baby and then she slapped me. HARD.
Then the dream got all wonky, or my memory can't recall much of what happened next. I can only remember being in a city where people were running pedestrians over with their cars, shooting people in the head, or throwing grenades into parked cars. I was watching all of this, hiding behind a tank that had been toppled over...
....and then the alarm went off. For once, I was happy to hear that whiny sound telling me to get up. I just hope my baby's alright.