markpasc (markpasc) wrote,
markpasc
markpasc

Dream

The first part was in some kind of store, with short aisles. (I think it might've been in the mall I'd dreamt about before.) They were selling video game things, one of which was this "Project Sonic <something>," a completely new console to which either fans or Sonic Team (ie, not Sega or anyone) had ported part (only part!) of a Sonic game (maybe Adventure, since I was thinking Dreamcast). I wandered around the store some, and at one point there were scary events such as in the next part of the dream.

In the next part of the dream, I was at home, fixing something about my car, without any pants on. There was a loud pop I didn't know what was. I decided to get the car into the garage, so I pulled it up, went inside, and hit the button to close the garage door (it was the old garage door that spanned the whole front of the garage; we never put any cars in it anyway, so Pa had it converted into a half-width garage door and a normal wall with a people-door). While it was closing, I looked and realized the car wasn't even nearly in all the way, so I hit the button a few times to open the door back up before . By this time (perhaps earlier) I had noticed the man across the street (also in the across-the-street neighbor's garage which has since been converted into some room or other by the replacement of the garage door with a wall), who was black. African, actually, though I just know that--he was wearing normal clothes, as opposed to stereotypical African garb. There was a loud pop, and when I looked again my car had been blown back out of the garage and in front of the house--not even in the driveway--as if by a cartoony burst of the tires. (I've been meaning for quite a while to check tire pressure since I've been neglecting that.) The man starts walking over, very calmly, but I know (I don't think I actually quite see) that starting to follow him out of the garage are several black kids--like Sarah's son from Odyssey 5 age kids--with guns. And they're going to shoot me. So I close the garage, rush inside, lock the doors I can lock, and hide in the bathroom, hoping there are enough walls between me and them. The end.

So, I'm not happy I had an apparently racist dream, but there it is. I guess maybe I shouldn't've watched 9/11 on DVD yesterday.
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