Gladiators in the Desert

So this one just popped out of nowhere. I had a dream two days ago. It was one of those dreams where you're hovering over places. Well, I was hovering, or flying whatever you want to call it, and I was in the desert. I was watching a bunch of guys like the dudes from 300 fighting. It was pretty cool. I was too far high up in the sky to really see what they were doing but they were all running around.

Communicating With The Dead

Just for the record, I'm not a violent person. These are just dreams--they're not real.

So, my dream that took place in the late 1960s, didn't actually take place in the late 1960s. It took place as if it were today, but my specialty on the dead were people from the 1960s. I know, whatever right? My occupation was as a ghost interpreter. I somehow created this device out of a fax machine to speak to the dead. I would lug it around with me everywhere. I would sit in a room and wait until a message printed out of the machine.

Anyway, I was investigating this room where this woman was murdered. And, of course my good old fax machine wasn't working. So, I had to rely on my natural senses . . . ooooh scary--what does it mean? So I sat in this small, cold room and waited. I got this image of a wedding ring falling onto the ground onto the floorboard under a bed, but it was a man's wedding ring--not a woman's who I thought I was investigating. Turns out the ring belonged to a man who rode a Harley.

Also, the dream had another complication. I was trying to get pregnant, but all I could successfully do was interpret murders through my fax machine and steal. Yeah, steal. I was no cop apparently and I would roam the malls and steal from the booths and only the booths.

Black Garbage Bags

Finally, a place where I can blog. It took forever to find a name for this website that hadn't been already been taken.

Anyway, this is Black Garbage Bags. I'll be blogging about my most recent dreams. Black Garbage Bags has to do with a dream I had when I was growing up that involved a knife, blood and a specific person. This dream really stuck in my head and I will never forget it. I've had other dreams too involving black garbage bags.

All my dreams are crazy, just like yours I'm sure, so I try not to take them so seriously. I ask that you do the same with my dreams as well.

So the last dream that I had with any substance had to do with me being an assassin. I remember that I had a sniper rifle and was on the ground from up high looking for my target. I was running through what looked like a desert and I was clothed in all this gear and had a lot of weapons. Somehow I ended up inside a hidden greenhouse and there were scientists there who were waiting for me. They asked if I could take this suitcase and I did. All hell broke loose and I was in the middle of a battle. Gunfires were everywhere and I had to escape. I did escape and I also woke up.

And that's that. The dream I had before this most recent one took place in late 1960s and I was some sort of a ghost interpreter. I had this device to help me communicate to the dead. I will tell you about it next time around. Sweet dreams everybody.