The half-forgotten
Other half of my short life
In short story form

 
Ravaged By War
3-01-1997

This dream was pretty unique in that it had narration, and the role I played was rather disembodied...The first 6 hours or so was just me playing my most recent piece, making alterations, and the like, and having different people perform different parts of it, etc. One of those dreams where the people in the dream knew I was sleeping, and in some parts of it, I WAS sleeping in the dream (the best feeling, dreaming of sleeping...you can feel how much rest you're getting).

Then eventually, this came to a close. The week was over, and I was glad. Then I thought, "Shit! I haven't been to genetics in a long time, what if there was homework?" Then Damon D rose from a chair and said, "That class is the worst class I've ever taken in my entire life." I thought to myself how this couldn't be true since, earlier in the dream, he said the same thing about another class. Then he and two other guys ask me, "So you gonna come with us to ?" I respond, "*laugh* No no..." and proceed to follow them anyway to some little hill, some folding chairs, and some type of open market-type cafeteria place.

Narrator: Now he wasn't really a descendant of the Comte de Morcerf...

Thinking to myself: Morcerf was the name that the real Morcerf's father assumed...

Then a view of some arabian guy riding through the grassy hills on a horse, carrying a piece of paper.

Narrator: But didn't know this and rode out to extend his congratulations.

Then a view of a messed-up-looking sailing ship, with people working on it, constructing it, in the plains. Arab, waving his arms and shouting: I just heard the news! Congratulations! Hope all goes well (or something)!

Some type of screenshot to show that time passes...

A view of two ships coming in from the ocean. The 2nd one is the aforementioned ship. It lands on the shore. Here's where it gets strange. I toss a folded up piece of laundry, like a bedsheet, on the now model-sized ship. The now-miniature-sized captain says, "Put down the sail." I distinctly remember now being able to remember any true sailing-jargon at this point in the dream and having to settle for that particular phrase.

Then a scene with the three passengers, sitting on the ground. One gets upand opens a plastic bag, retrieving one bowl, which he hands to the captain, and the another, which he keeps for himself. There's no more, and a look of dissatisfaction comes across the 3rd passenger with the realization that for the entire time he'll have to eat his beans off a plate instead of from a bowl.

A shot of this same person wading in a pool of soup in the ground while the other two guys get into a jeep. As the jeep drives away, its back tire hits some sharp metal object and starts spewing oil. The guy in the pool of soup sees this with despair and, grabbing a chamber pot, I think to myself, "I hope he's not going to use that to eat his soup with," uses it to shield his body from all the oil squirting everywhere and above all, into the soup. This scene obviously to provide a little bit of light humor before getting into the heavy material.

Narrator: The orders the army gave us were and ambiguous.

I came to the realization that they were part of some type of volunteer unit, and that maybe the entire army they were fighting with was composed of such units.

View of a small plane...not a jet, a plane...scouting above the ocean by some cliffs. A HUGE blimp-like aircraft, from the same army, suddenly appears around the corner, in the way, due to the army's shitty communication and planning.

Navigator: Banking...now we're going to start over.

Then a jet swooshes by out from nowehere, and the music begins. They fly around...another good-guy plane enters the scene. I find myself wading in the ocean watching this go on, except now they're all made out of wood and they're just gliding through the air. I grab the plane by the middle and fly it around in the air myself, like I'm directing this aerial combat in my playroom. I fly it near to some cliff that momentarily looks like a huge, fossilized, derelict spacecraft. I then think of how rocky this foreign land is, but then hear my mother's voice, "It's been ravaged by war." I throw the plane. It does a loop-de-loop and circles a few times through the air until landing in the water. The other plane, neglected, falls into the water, too. They're both floating. I pick them up. The jet (modeled differently, but out of wood) glides by my head at a very fast pace. I think how I have to hold my own until the others get here.

The end.

posted by Phlegm at 11/23/2003