google searching Exorcism

I must be angry, I must have something misplaced in my spirit, a lot of what I write in my dream journal is full of aggressive symbols, lately.  Knowing is half the battle, at least I know now, because I don't feel angry.  I dreamed about bad things, about witches and a demon.  I remember when I was a child, I seen a demon, not like a scary apparition, but I seen a man who every other older man surrounded him and said he was under the influence of one.  It was scary, I cried, I was so small.  I was torn away from the site, I loved that man.  In my dream, I saw him again.  I am stronger though, and I wanted to help.  He said there are witches, and said to look in the laundry room.  I did, and found the dryer and bed were alive.  This probably sounds nuts, but fuck it.  I didn't now what exactly to do, so I whipped out my cellphone and google searched "expelling witches from furniture".... and google answer said I need a fresh dead crow.  So, I go to a pavilion outside where there are crows and pigeons, and people staring at me in bewildered amazement at my open act of trying to kill one crow.  They were freaked out of me, calling the police.  I didn't care, and tried to the last second to catch one before I had to run from the authorities.  I got away, and was found by a woman.  She said I can hide here, then said after a time she can help me with the witches.  I said thank you, and led her to the laundry room.  She took my cellphone, saying when I see a witch, to call the number she puts in my address book, either "dryer" or "bed", and then she left.  I felt shame about relentlessly trying to massacre crows in front of people earlier, and waited.  When the dryer and bed came alive again, I whipped out my cellphone to call the numbers, and found my contact list was displayed in symbols I didn't recognize, "oh shit!" moment, I felt confounded in fuckery.  That's all I remember.

coyotes

I dreamed I was annoyed, severely annoyed, terminally annoyed.  I had a plugged nose, like one side, I made gross noises between breathlessness.  I wanted it out, I plugged one side and blew as hard as I could, and found blood poured out and down my throat, it couldn't drain through my plugged nose.  Now, I hate bloody noses, they freak me out, this is becoming a nightmare.  For some reason, I felt moody, like sexually.  I wanted her, she is here but also a lot of people are in my apartment, annoying.  I felt miserable.  Suddenly there was an accident outside, a loud popping crunch sound.  I looked and a car had wrecked, it also had broken eggs all over it, with shells stained in color like Easter eggs.  Someone in the crowd that had all come out to investigate said it was poison, like a biological attack.  The eggs contained a lingering poison, and breathing it would kill you.  It was scary, I cupped my mouth and went upwind from the wreck.  Everyone screamed and ran, and I felt an urgent panic.  Then came calm, then confidence, I was walking with a group of people, evading the terrorist egging's.  There was mass panic yet I was leading this group of people to safety.  There was a boy, he said "I bet I can get to the top of that hill before you!", and I playfully obliged, I knew the attacks didn't reach there, and that was the safe area I was leading everyone to.  When I started a sprint, I realized the boy had sneakily filled my socks with Legos, making it painful to run.  WTF!?! How... I emptied them into the dirt, and he came back sad, asking why I threw all his toys away.  Like really kid?!? I told him to pick them up and I will carry them in my socks, and when the race commenced again, I didn't put my socks on just ran in my shoes without socks.  He laughed even as I left him so far behind, nearing the top of the hill.  As I was about to crest it and win the race, feeling lighthearted despite events, over the top of the hill a pair of coyotes leaped over at me.  I ducked, yet one landed on my head, bounding back off with sharp little pawed feet insulting my face.  It hurt, like WTF was that!? How rude, I closed my eyes, wincing in pain.  That's all I remember.

mossberg and Butterflies

I dreamed I was locked inside a conex box, or a few conex boxes welded together to make a sizable room.  There was a window, but it was fogged and only let a glowing ray of sunlight through.  I walked to it, my footsteps echoed loudly and stirred up fine dust.  Dust billowed up, seen only in the ray of light from the single window, I felt boogies and a sneeze coming.  Next to the window, stood barrel up between the ribs of the conex box, was my shotgun.  I picked it up, a Mossberg 500, and checked the chamber and magazine.  One shell, I figured my best bet was to shoot out the almost opaque window, use the butt to break any remaining shards out of the way and squeeze through.  The shot rang in the metal box like a bell, I fell to my knees in shock from the blast, holding my ears in pain.  When the shock subsided, I saw the window didn't shatter, but left tiny holes where the buckshot passed through (tryptophobia, ick!). I went to press my face against the window and see if I could see through a single hole, then fluttery shadows appeared on the other side.  Through the holes, butterflies squeezed through, their wings collapsing and "poofing" back out when they got through, and all of them fluttered about, stirring up the dust in the conex box,  I tried to wipe it off my brow but it felt sticky, and I realized the dust was fine pollen.  That's all I remember.

the Swords

I first remember how I felt, I felt excited, geeked out on ancient discovery, on exploration, I love ruins.  I went to find them, a familiar place I have been to a lot, hiking and camping, rocks and juniper, and big cat prints.  Fresh scat, oooo-scary, should have packed my 9mm.  I found a well, sort of.  Near sandstone stacked for ancient people to hide behind, a circular stack of similar rock, and as dry as it was out here, the inner walls of this circle were damp.  I got in, and slid down accidently.  I was glad I had my molle backpack to take the scraping all the way down as I tried to wedge myself to a stop with my boots and back.  It didn't happen, the bricks were slippery, then the shaft opened into darkness suddenly.  My heart fluttered and the adrenalin flushed my face of life it felt.  I reached below me like a cat jumping off a roof, and splashed into water.  I was in shock, and paddled best I could up, I hate water.  When I surfaced and took a breath, there was light, dim but inherent.  There was an edge of the water I could climb up, onto a stone path with stone walls and a stone ceiling, all dark and damp, with moss growing between the bricks, all man-made.  It didn't smell like a sewer, it smelled like a cave, natural.  The water was clean, yet I found I had bled into it.  Somehow I received two gaping gashes on my left thigh, and I opened my pack to fashion a bandage.  I used my headband and all the contents of a tiny medikit I had.  It hurt, I couldn't walk. I looked up the shaft I fell through, it was dark.  I used a flashlight, and remember thinking "I'm so glad I bought this because it doesn't use batteries", my worst fear is getting lost in a cave.  The expanse echoed as I cranked the lever on my flashlight to get it charged up.  As I directed the light into the shaft, there were two shiny objects partway up, stuck in the walls.  I took out my monoculars, and in the dream everything seemed to get bigger, the stone path became cavernous and the shaft became a monolithic feature.  I used my monoculars to get a look at the reflective objects, and found they were two swords, handles stuck between the bricks, blades readied to slice anything that fell through, like a leg.  If dreams reflect inner struggle, I must be doing something wrong.  My mind wasn't set on my wounds, on a path out, even on fear of dark waters or starvation or loneliness.  I wanted those swords, as if my world became nothing but dark waters and slippery bricks, nothing to strive for except those pieces of treasure or death, and I begun obsessively thinking about how to get them.  That's all I remember.

the watch Stander

I dreamed I was in a canyon, it looked like Angel Peak.  I felt a sense of urgency, like when you're doing something wrong.  I was definitely being sneaky.  I passed someone on the hiking path, he was in a military uniform.  I saluted him and he said my watch is over and I should go to sleep now.  I complied, and asked if I could get some food first.  He said alright and to hurry, but I intended to escape with my belongings.  I continued to the bottom of the canyon and found there were bunks out in the open and people occupying them, with the ground seeming to slowly rise to devour them in their sleep.  Considering I was after the contents in my bunk, I realized it was everything I own in a small box.  I crept past the sleeping soldiers to my bunk, where underneath I had hidden a munitions box. Inside were 7.62 and 9mm bullets, and a folder with documents.  I put the bullets in my coat pockets and looked over the documents.  One of them wasn't mine, it was a receipt to a hotel I didn't stay at.  I looked over it like "how the fuck did this get in here?"  Reading the details, it became familiar and hurtful what it stood for.  I placed it on the ground and watched the dirt slowly cover it, keeping myself moving so the rising sands wouldn't swallow my boots up.  When I got my folder tucked in my jacket, I ran toward the canyon walls, I started to climb quickly, each time I looked back the sand had covered more and more bunks, swallowed up more soldiers in their sleep.  I got to the top and my legs burned.  I felt an uncontrollable rush of sadness when I realized I was alone.  There was no car parked in the lot, no familiar face to take me home.  I just started to walk, hands in my pockets full of ammunition.  I just kept walking with a lump in my throat, the earth crunching under my boots.  That's all I remember.

all the kings Horses

I dreamed I was in a house with many doors, the floors were uneven and the steps leading to rooms did not make sense.  All the doors had flags hanging from them, just geometric shapes and colors.  They stood for differing factions, the residents of the house were angry at each other and there was a war happening.  I realized the people living here were not soldiers but still had their factions and beliefs, yet were forced to live in this complex.  There was a girl there that was nice to everyone, I felt nothing for her, and she approached me.  She asked if I could take her and her friends on a road trip away from here, and said she would give me a gift.  I said okay, so we all got together in an RV, I drove them.  Her and her friends, all guys, were in the back drinking, reckless in bliss, I saw her making out with them, each until they passed out.  In her drunken state, she sat next to me and gave me a gift bag, saying here is that thing I promised you, but please don't let the guys see it.  I said fine, and placed it in the door pocket to open later.  She then tried to kiss me, I resisted, and she became angry.  She yelled at me, said "I don't want to get married to a bum in that little town!", that's why she asked me to drive her away.  She said she planned to get her friends drunk and ask me to leave them at a rest stop.  I was confused, and I became fearful of opening her gift.  She became very sexually aggressive with me, playful and naïve.  I had to stop the RV and walk away, she had no idea I thought she was fucking psycho.  The girls father had called the police on me, saying that I kidnapped her.  I complied when they caught us, saying it was the girl setting us all up.  When the police questioned her, she began to cry and plead with her friends.  They seemed gullible, saying that they wanted to run away and their relationship with each other was complicated.  She victimized herself and played the part through, hanging on them like she never conjured to leave them on the highway.  Throughout the entire investigation she looked at me sadly and lost, like somehow I too was supposed to help her lie.  The officer asked about the gift I accepted in payment, I said I haven't opened it yet.  I retrieved it from the RV and when he looked inside he immediately confiscated it, that's all I remember.

Teri-yucky sauce

I dreamed I was in the house I grew up in.  There's a closet that only opens to the outside, right next to the front door.  It only locks from the outside, I was always afraid of it for that.  Inside was dirty, packed full of dusty storage bins and outdoor equipment.  I needed to get near the back of the closet, where my bike was hanging on the wall.  I started to climb over junk towards it when suddenly the door slammed shut and I heard wind rustling on the other side.  I got scared, the only light were from gaps in the doors.  I screamed and banged on the door.  Above me a light came, glowing neon blue.  I looked and it was a collection of cobwebs, it looked gross.  There were spiders about the size of my hand all over the webbing, and the ceiling seemed to be taller than it was before.  The web was growing, expanding, then swelling.  The light was from cocoons inside growing, filling a space of webbing that had swelled to the size of a trash bag.  I couldn't get my body flatter against the ground if I tried, it was so fuckin' gross and terrifying, spiders crawling all over.  Suddenly the door opened, it was my grandmother.  I was a bat out of hell, dashing onto the ground and rolling around, inspecting my body frantically for spiders or webs or cocoons.  I watched my grandma poke the swelling bag, and said "I'll call the exterminators".  My friend Leon was there, he had pedaled up on his bike like we were children again, but we were adults, it was weird.  He asked if he could move in with me, he needed a place to stay.  I said cool, that would be awesome, but the spiders.  I last remember Leon and I conspiring how could we torch the closet clean, and for some reason he was convinced that sweet ginger teriyaki sauce is flammable so we should use that.