Apparently, the feeling of being carefree, and driving a 1960's Aston Martin convertible through the French Countryside is something I long for.
Meanwhile, who knew I knew what a 1960's Aston Martin looked like, or the French Countryside for that matter, enough to dream it perfectly... or that I would be lucky enough to find pictures of exactly those things, as they appeared in my dream... weird...
A.
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My dream would be very similar, but then something askew would take place. The Aston Martin would stall, and there I would be thinking to myself, 'okay, I'm broken down, but at least I'm broken down on the French countryside', then while tinkering with mechanical parts half ways leaned over the motor with the bonnet of the auto overhead, out of the peripherals of my eye something else slightly more terrifying would happen. Satyrs and Centaurs with gas masks and military fatigues would step out of the tree line in unison with flame throwers ablaze while screaming in tongues or in Latin, I wouldn't be able to tell. Tornado sirens serving the dual purpose as air raid sirens would begin to blare. Mushroom clouds would billow way off in the distance, and the AM talk radio station I would have been listening to would have abruptly ended (which oddly would've been programmed in English as I cannot read, speak, comprehend French whatsoever)the instant the flashes from the nuclear bombs in the distance caused me to turn away and blink.
These are the things that take place in my dreams.
D.
See, in my dream with driving through the French countryside in a 1960s Aston Martin, I would end up pulling over to the side of the road, my first girlfriend from junior high would be selling lemonade, but when I drank the lemonade it would really be chocolate and when I looked back my jr. high girlfriend would be Carla from Cheers and I'd not be in France anymore but in a shopping mall and I'd not be drinking lemonade, I'd be buying a pumice stone and once I'd bought it, I'd slide down a long slide and end up in a cheese factory where my mom would be working taking orders for cheese and she'd refuse to sell me any cheese so I'd leave and when I got out the door it'd be raining, so I'd duck into the next building which would be a room full of chalkboards with stuff written on them that I could almost read but when i get closer to them to make out the letters, I'd find out they weren't chalkboards at all but green curtains and parting the curtains I'd step into my grandmother's house but all the furniture would be different from what she owned, it'd be retro styled furniture from the 60s and the TV would be on some black and white show and then I'd turn around and so on and so forth.
In other words, half the dreams I remember are just random garbage that flows and changes from one thing into another and another.
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