A Mind-Blowing Breakfast

I had a very strange dream a few nights ago.  In keeping with my advice from my last post (read that here), I decided to write down what I could remember.  I peppered in a few embellishments here and there, but the story remains just as bizarre as the night I experienced it.

---

     Adam stood in the center of a blacktop basketball court, having no idea how or why he would have gone there. The paint lines were faded from the countless footfalls they had received, and the nets were worn to almost nothing.

     The tall brick buildings looked oppressive. They appeared to have received the same amount of wear that the court had experienced. But for all of the use that this place had seen, Adam could not find a single person. He walked.

     After having walked for a few blocks, he found a courtyard in the center of a few of these apartment buildings whose only tenants must be ghosts. The courtyard had been overgrown before a lack of care had resulted in the death of any plant life. Brown foliage hung limp from every bush and tree.

     Then he heard a percussive shuffling noise from behind him. Startled, Adam spun on his heels. An gaunt-looking young woman stood with hand on hip. Three younger girls, identical triplets, hid behind the woman and stared from behind her waist.

     "I've got what you need." The woman produced a cigarette from a pocket, lit it, and took long drag. She coughed as the smoke was pulled into her lungs. "Where's my money."

     "Um...I don't know... what are you talking about?"

     The woman let out a raspy sigh and walked away. Her girls followed in a straight line, skipping along in playful manor.

     Adam, as confused as he was, felt compelled to obtain whatever it was that she held. "Wait! Can I have it?" The woman turned to face him as he searched for his wallet. It wasn't in any of his pockets. For that matter, he couldn't recall ever having owned a wallet. "I'll pay you later."

     "That's not how it works." She turned to walk away.

     "I promise I'll pay you." He found himself pleading for it, although he could not remember what it was that he wanted so badly. "I'm a good person. I'm trustworthy."

     Her facial expression turned from irritation to concern. "No one who buys is trustworthy."

     Adam was struck to the core with some unknown shame. He dropped to his knees as the dead foliage around him seemed to turn black and decay. The woman had disappeared. It seemed as though time had sped up. He felt dizzy from a heightening despair. He shut his eyes and shook his head.

     Looking up, Adam found himself in the basement of a friend's house, a plastic bag sitting in his open hands. Carefully, he unrolled the bag and broke the seal. A delicious smell leaped up out of the bag and into his nostrils: Reese's Peanut Butter Puffs cereal. He couldn't resist the urge to eat.

     As the first few puffs hit his tongue, pleasure receptors throughout his brain fired off and he nearly jumped. However, this pleasure slowly transformed into something very different. The bland-looking basement began to become brighter and more full of color.

     Colorful cartoon mushrooms began to sprout from the floor in bright red and white. Large blossoms sprouted from the walls, emitting 60's era music to match his psychedelic euphoria. From somewhere animals, as of yet unimagined, danced into the room, harmonizing with the joyous songs. Even the lights in the room seemed to gain significance as they alternated through every color of the visual spectrum.

     Adam sat down on top of one of the mushrooms and took in the brilliance that surrounded him.

Reason and Rhythm, Part 1

Sometimes the strangest of life's occurrences are things that don't happen in the waking world. I would encourage you to write about your dreams. Most often these incoherent sequences of image and sound won't yield anything that makes any sense, but once in a while, your subconscious might fabricate something more unusual and elaborate than you could in any other state.

When you write, feel free to add or remove details as you see fit. Your purpose in this doesn't need to be accurate retelling of your REM sleep adventures, although you may choose it to be that way. Personally, I feel pretentious when I write in first person, so I write in third; you should write from any perspective that you prefer.

This might seem like a frivolous exercise, but it serves an important function. Any reason to spend sometime activating the part of your mind that thinks creatively is cause to write. Hopefully, you'll begin to establish a regular rhythm in writing. Your goal should be to feel the desire to write on a daily basis, and to be able to find something to write about just as often.