Pt XXII: Quivering mass of gelatinous excitement

Doubt is good.

It's good to cast suspicion on things and make sure you get the whole story. That's pretty much the fundamental basis of journalism, and I think it's a good way to lvie life. Ask questions. Get other perspectives. Be sure.

I was recently put in a situation where it helped to be suspicious. I was contacted by a very strange person and I didn't know what to make of it, until I got the opinion of a third party, who agreed it was not on the level.

Now I'm not saying you should never trust anybody, but keep some reservations. Always wonder about people motives and objectives. What does anybody really want? I do my best to be transparent. As far as I can recall, I've never had a hidden agenda. I try to be up front, but there are people who do play games and have ulterior motives. I'm a pretty honest and straightforward guy, at least when it comes to my own neuroses and complexities. It's kind of important to establish that trust with a readership, I suppose.

I've been the victim of a recurring dream. Not exactly the same each night, but last night and the night before have had frighteningly similar dreams, and I'd like to get them analyzed.

There's been a theme of running since Saturday night, when I was running, drunk and afraid, from a girl in a restaurant. Except in that case, I went back and found that things were ruined. On Sunday night, I dreamt I was back in my old neighbourhood, the corner of Madden and Margot, not far from River Oaks Public School. The entire town, except for me it appeared, had be turned into zombies, or some other kind of ghoul, and I was on the run. And that was it; sprinting, for my life, down a familiar suburban street. At one point, I had grabbed a ceramic mixing bowl for protection. At the end of the dream, I was cornered in a strange house on that street, and grabbed a serrated knife for protection. I awoke, a full hour before my alarm, in a literal cold sweat.

Last night was a stange mix of the two. I was walking down Sixth Line... the area between here and the Ferguson house... and there was a bear chained up in the front yard of a house on the corner. I walked by, and it snapped at me. Startled, I continued on my walk. I passed by once again, and the bear had broken the chain and was innocently sniffing around its yard. I passed with caution, but found I had to go back one more time. The third time I passed, the bear had broken its chain. It caught sight of me. I panicked and ran. The bear chased me. The last thing I remember was the face of the bear, hungrily lunging toward me as I pried my eyes open, awakening.

I don't know what, if anything, all this means. I can usually get the meaning of my dreams, or see where the imagery comes from, but this one has me stumped. There was definitely more to both the bear and zombie dreams than I remember -- in "Zombie," something about being ay school; White Oaks, to be specific... and a computer that plugs into a piece of fruit (Macintosh?) The Bear dream seems to have had some kind of "video game" scene, where I was in some kind of puzzle world, or platform game, a la Pitfall. Does anybody remember Pitfall?

Why the specific locations? Why a bowl before the knife? Why a bear in the front yard? I thought the first dream was just because I was worried I'd embarrassed myself Saturday evening. I must've been mistaken.

Life is looking so dull on Reading Week that it seems like this is the sort of blog you're gonna get for today. I'd really like to enjoy my time, but have few outlets and opportunities to do so. Well, them's the breaks. I guess I'll end it here.

Keep on rockin'
[-Scott-]