One Who Wanders (abiona) wrote,
One Who Wanders

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And last night I had a dream about a "band camp" ... we were in an area kind of like the campus center of my college, but exaggerated and deformed (plus there was a lot more green, really lush grass), with areas inside of the main building in the area that don't actually exist there in real life (like a cross between a blue bathroom and a photo developing lab, which as it was in my dream is impossible in real life). Anyway, I went to this practice session with several of my friends (Katherine, you were there, and you were dressed up like that one bounty hunter that Leia imitates in Return of the Jedi!), and I was a percussionist, though I hadn't played any percussion instrument other than the piano (which was not an option) for several years. I grew more and more anxious as everyone set up their stuff out on the lawn to practice, and finally I came up with some excuse and vanished inside of the building.

There I ran around, finding places that were kind of similar to places I've been IRL, but not - downstairs at the theatre they used to perform the Nutcracker at here, a cross between my high school's set room and the Fire Temple from Ocarina of Time ... I wound up running into a blue bathroom, and I found this woman who's been in my art classes developing many photographs at one time, in a white binder, in a sink. She kept on saying that "dammit, she lost another one."

Somehow the conversation got turned around to how I should go back out there to the band, and I agreed that I should. There was panic, however, when I realized that I couldn't find my shoes! So we ran around in craziness until we came across a pair of blue satin shoes up against a light blue wall that looked like mine, and I absolutely died when someone who was making an innocent inquiry dripped chocolate frosting on them, ruining them. Then we realized that those weren't actually my shoes at all, my black satin shoes were in fact on my feet the whole time!

Okay, so I ran downstairs and out on the grass towards the band. I could see them practicing in the light of a flood lamp, for it had grown dark. Finally they started to pack up just as I arrived, and my friends were not to be seen. I followed the conductor around, and he made mention about how someone had not come to take up their "librarian" position. I begged him to let me have the librarian job, because I hadn't played the snare drum or any other percussion instrument in so long. He looked at me oddly and said that before he could fill in the system, he thought that I should know that they had me down for seven years or times playing the snare drum, so why did I want to be the librarian? I was shocked and tried to think of how that could be and started babbling excuses, and then I woke up.


It seems that if I go to bed earlier, I do actually dream more often. o_o They're still just about as weird as ever, though.
Tags: dream writing

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