But these clouds are menacing, dangerous, because they're murderous evil clouds come to kill us all.
We're walking with a greater sense of urgency, but the little girl wants to visit her father's grave, which happens to be around the corner, in a construct remarkably similar to the apartments we just left (not that, in general, any other building in the dream is not a big cube with many smaller congruent cubes in it). The clouds are getting ever-closer and eventually it's too much for the man I'm with, so we start back to the apartment—indoors where it'll be safe—where the little girl can catch up.
As we turn the corner, we find that the boxy little apartments have tilted in some fashion inside the larger construct of the apartment complex, such that their insides are all thrown around. It's not some place we can go now, so suddenly we're no. The man decides we can try for the girl's father's apartment, but as we pass (it's between the first apartment and the grave) he says something like, "Oh, no, they renovated those into <unintelligible>." So we're well and truly fucked.
A little girl yelling "Daddy, daddy!" as her caretaker turns away because he knows she's as good as dead back there, while people run around hurriedly trying to save themselves—but not screaming, not really making any noise at all, because to whom is there to appeal? Everyone will look out only for themselves—is not a good way to wake up. Like that Sigur Ros video. (All the races in the dream were mixed up, at least, which makes me feel a little better about some of my past dreams that weren't so PC. Heh.)
So, yes, I firmly believe this, in addition to my calves spontaneously cramping up the night before last and a little bit of chest pain I had yesterday, was caused by the school projects I've been neglecting—one is a complex program I have to have done and presentable by Wednesday and the other is a nonnegligible paper I haven't even considered starting, that's due something like a week after that. And that's in addition to the ambient postmillennial intrabellum OMGOMGWTFGOPSARS stress that kills us a little each day.
I'm scared when the cat sneezes. I'm lying under the desk more often, though it's not, like, curling up fetally under it, yet. I way overslept today, but then, I stayed up rather late last night. Someone mentioning drinking any and all water by itself makes em sick, plus the dry mouth I've been getting after drinking the supposedly filtered water here at home, make me wonder if it's poisoned. When I let the cat out this morning, I wondered if some attack had happened and I was killing em by letting em out. Going to the store and buying out the whole shelf of ramen (literally, that is) or some other subsistence food doesn't seem as silly an idea as it should. Ad nauseum.
Mommy, I don't like this decade. I want to go home.
Current Music: Man or Astro-Man? - Curious constructs of stem-like devices which now prepare to be thought of as fingers