#When Average People Tell You Their Dreams

I still don’t understand the concept of a hashtag, but no matter, I’ll use it anyway!

Hello to the wonderful people who are reading this blog post! So, I feel bad that I haven’t been sharing the wealth of stories with our friends on the “Meet the Characters” page. So much crazy stuff has been going on with the Fourth Floor that I have abandoned my dearies over the past month or so. But not today!!! I finally found the notebook that has my list of stories in it, so I am able to resume telling them to all the world on this blog!

This post is going to give you a bit of insight into the strange minds of my friends (and myself, of course) through the world of dreaming. I don’t know if there is such a thing as a correct dream–or, rather–a “normal” dream, but either way, these are not those. This is like Inception except you can follow along…maybe.

First, Knix: (I don’t know if you’ve met Knix before. Her father is a professional baseball player. Can you tell?)

Rupee decided she wanted a new look so she shaved her head. Then she bought a wig that looked EXACTLY like her old hair and put it on and when she ran around it flopped on her head. That’s it, that was the dream. Done. Are you left a little confused? Because I know I was. Who shaves their head just so they can put on a wig that looks just like the hair they had before? I have to wonder what that dream means. Maybe Rupee should go it bald. It was a sign!

The Baconator:

She dreamed that Maxine was a mermaid with a shiny green tail and pointy teeth. When the Baconator went swimming, Maxine suddenly turned evil (or maybe she was already evil) and tried to drag her down into the depths of the water. And then she drowned her. Or ate her. I don’t remember the specifics.

That’s shady. Maxine always kills people–or is killed–in everyone’s dream. We’re not sure why. Sorry, Max.

And, finally, Me:

Warning: please do not judge me. I cannot control the things I dream. I was telling the truth before when I said that this is not like Inception–I really can’t control my dreams. So, now that that’s clear…I guess I’ll have to explain.

1) My dream-self was sitting in my bedroom when a group of prostitutes knocked on my door and asked for my Ipod. Turns out, they were prostitutes working at a whorehouse. My whorehouse. I was a pimp! The prostitutes were the girls in my choir class (my real-life choir class). I never told them this, though. I guess the secret’s out now. Oops.

2) The Jonas Brothers showed up. (Not for prostitutes). I guess we were friends and they just stopped by to say hello and chat.

3) Apparently, the Jonas Brothers and I (in our awesome, friendshipness) decided to pull a prank on a bunch of ogres. They started chasing me, and the Jonas Brothers, and the prostitutes through my whorehouse (which all of the sudden became 87 floors high). I’m not sure where the number 87 came from, what an awkward number, but apparently my whorehouse was a hotel as well. Although, if you really think about it, it would make sense.

4) We climbed all the way to the 87th floor–and, yes, we took the stairs–just to find that it is a McDonald’s play structure. Complete with thick, fabric netting, plastic tubes meant for little children people to crawl through, and rubber mats that cause awful rug burns when you slide on them the wrong way. And it was a dead-end! Duh, duh, duuuuuuh! So, there we waited. Me and the Jonas Brothers chatted some more–pretty chill for being chased by man-eating overs–and that is when I woke up. I actually think that Nick might have sung, he somehow had a guitar with him when we got to the play structure.

Like I said before, I really don’t want to know what this dream means/ says about me as a person. Please don’t judge. As far as the girls I dreamed were prostitutes: I’m sorry, I really don’t think you’re promiscuous or bad people. For the most part. (Kidding)! And to the Jonas Brothers if you should ever happen to read this: I’m sorry that I almost got you eaten by ogres in my dream. If it helps, the Dream-Jonas were all very nice. I promise, I will never get you killed by fictional beasts in any future dreams. Maybe. I will make an effort not to but some times you just can’t help these things.

Plus, ogres are such fickle creatures. You never know when they’re going to pop up!

Forever Average,

Mel

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