For those that don’t know, I usually don’t have dreams that I can remember vividly. So when I do, they’re expectantly extremely bizarre. I’ve had a rough sleep last night; so rough that when I finally was able to sleep for more than a few hours, all of my locked up imaginations were finally released.
Here’s what I can piece together now that I’ve been up for a while:
One, I was out of the country for whatever reason. I had obviously left without a passport or something because the police were ALL OVER ME my whole trip! How rude, right? Even in dream vacation I can’t get any peace.
Two, I needed some sort of adviser to be in the area I was staying (remnants of my non-legal-adult years, I presume). Let me explain the area I was in, it might give you guys a better idea of why I was being followed by the police. It was this posh area with high ceilings and gold molding. There was also a sort of rounded area for the lobby that came together with huge white and gold pillars. There was no furniture. Because, why not? Matter of fact, there wasn’t even a check in area. It was just like a walk-right-in sort of situation.
Three, there was some Police misconduct involved. I got arrested as more of a volunteer move (lol, why? YOU’RE NOT KATNISS). Let me just make it clear, if any of my friends get arrested for something shady they did I would NOT offer myself to take the blame for you, what? Anywhosees, once I offered myself to be arrested, the police officer started correcting my pronunciation on some word. I think the word was ‘corridor’ and he was all like, “Your stupid American accent is mispronouncing everything!” (He had a British accent). So the whole elevator ride the both of us were pronouncing corridor and arguing about the right way to say it. Apparently, I didn’t like his tone in the dream; I kept thinking, “Oh, Imma get him to lose his job because he’s flirting with me and the case will be thrown out.” Again, what? How can you possibly flirt with someone by correcting their pronunciation?
Four, I got saved! (YAY). So apparently good friends of mine got wind that I was arrested in some unknown country (I only know I wasn’t in America because I kept on saying, “I’m not from here!”). They were adults, so they came to say that they were my advisers for the area. This would somehow mean that I shouldn’t have been arrested because I wasn’t just some ragtag kid running around some hotel.
At the end of my dream I remember thinking, “Wow, that would be a wonderful book idea.” Now, that I write it down? Not so much!