Akonyl wrote:as I told someone else in this topic (it was a while ago, forget who :V), writing down your dreams is one of the keys to rememberin them more often. Some people also have more "concrete" dreams than others, like me vs one of my friends who apparently only has really abstract dreams that makes them hard to write about.
You don't remember me?
I'll make up my lack of posts recently with a good dream:
[spoiler] I'm in Barcelona and my Spanish teacher sends me on an errand to Valencia. My mom calls me however and tells me that this is the perfect time to do that "thing" I have to do in Toledo (all I have to do when I get back later than expected is tel him the trains were slow). I take the (J) train to the (N) train to get to Toledo; It takes me 45 minutes to get there. Since I don't want to waste too much time I take a few "shortcuts" through private property. I accidentally bump into a young black woman who mistakes me for a new volunteer (and everyone speaks English in Spain apparently) so (not wanting to get in trouble) I end up volunteering with her for 2 hours. We had a pretty good time but I realize I wasted way too much time so I forget about what my mom wanted me to do and just run down to the subway station at the bottom of the hill. I still take "shortcuts" but now also jump down from the edge of a street to a tree below. I jump down from branch to branch as quickly as possible where a man in his high 30s in a suit and shades waits below. He looks up and smiles. When I get down he grabs onto me and arrests me, "You're making this too easy, coming to me and all." He takes me to the CIA base at the edge of the city where he tells me that, because of my actions, I'm suspected to be an international terrorist. They strap me to my chair and take my passport. "Pretty well made,... for a fake" the man says with a smile. I just stare back at him, tired from protesting. he opens the passport and puts the passport between two pieces of glass that are part of a large contraption. He turns a knob and, while it starts up, turns back to me to talk to me. Two more agents enter the room: a young short-haired woman with a clipboard, and a guy who looked too young to be a CIA agent (In his low 20s, not even wearing a suit, just shorts and a shirt). This guy is also convinced that I'm the terrorist they're looking for, but unlike the other man, he is always smirking, and looks like he is not taking it too seriously. While they continue to talk to me both men place their hands on the glass. Immediately after a red light lights up on the machine and the letters of "AMERICA" fall off the passport, as does my picture. Serious male agent (he reminded me of the detective in Monster) concluded that since, a "normal" passport could have withstood the pressure of the machine, mine had to be fake and, therefore, I had to be the terrorist. before I could protest, he also says that the extra pressure exerted by their hands made no difference since they were just "lightly placed upon the glass". I remember the woman I worked with at the community service place and hope that, even though we only talked for two hours, she understood me enough to defend me. I suddenly remember my teacher and think, "Oh, sh*t! If my teacher finds out I got arrested "in Toledo" and that I wasn't in "Valencia" I'm screwed. I could have used him to defend my alibi if I had actually done as told. Ma, why do you always screw me up..." [/spoiler]
[img height=250 width=598]http://img526.imageshack.us/img526/287/file798chineseaiglasses.png[/img]
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