The strangest thing happened to me in my dream this morning.
Sometimes I dream that I'm in a guitarshop.
Sometimes I dream that I get locked in a guitarshop after hours and I get to run amok all night.
Sometimes I dream that I own the most awesome guitarshop in the history of guitarshops and I'm in such a position of power I go mad and order my underlings to rumble with rival businesses for stripmall supremacy (these particular dreams usually culminate with a 'Big n' Tall' men's store in flames and the subjugation of an 'Olive Garden').
And sometimes I dream I'm walking in a misty meadow and I stumble onto the secret entrance of a guitarshop run by magic elves.
Well, this morning I dreamed I was in a guitarshop. Maybe I was up to no good, I don't know. I felt like I was doing something shady. Maybe hanging around dreamscape guitarshops unconsciously makes me feel dirty. Anyway, I was pondering some strange and futuristic doodad, debating with my dreamself whether I should blow untold hundreds of dollars on this silly thing or pay my overdue bills... when suddenly I was interrupted by a voice calling out my name, over and over, as if someone were trying to get my attention in earnest.
In the dream- I whirled around in circles trying to find the source of this voice, I was utterly startled. I looked everywhere. I even went outside the guitarshop and looked around. And all the time, this voice kept calling out for me persistantly.
Then I woke up. And I still heard the voice calling me.
I literally leapt out of bed, dashed to the bedroom door, tore it open, looked and saw...
No one. I was alone. The voice kept going in my head.
I put my hands over my ears and screamed very quietly. Yes it was weird.
I was shaken. Was I losing it?
I sat down and tried to get the story straight.
Who was calling me? Was it some knid of psychic phenomena? Should I call up all my friends and ask them if they dreamed about seeing me in a guitarshop, what the fuck did they want? And how dare they encroach on my dream?!
Fuck Scottsdale!!
Sometimes I dream that I'm in a guitarshop.
Sometimes I dream that I get locked in a guitarshop after hours and I get to run amok all night.
Sometimes I dream that I own the most awesome guitarshop in the history of guitarshops and I'm in such a position of power I go mad and order my underlings to rumble with rival businesses for stripmall supremacy (these particular dreams usually culminate with a 'Big n' Tall' men's store in flames and the subjugation of an 'Olive Garden').
And sometimes I dream I'm walking in a misty meadow and I stumble onto the secret entrance of a guitarshop run by magic elves.
Well, this morning I dreamed I was in a guitarshop. Maybe I was up to no good, I don't know. I felt like I was doing something shady. Maybe hanging around dreamscape guitarshops unconsciously makes me feel dirty. Anyway, I was pondering some strange and futuristic doodad, debating with my dreamself whether I should blow untold hundreds of dollars on this silly thing or pay my overdue bills... when suddenly I was interrupted by a voice calling out my name, over and over, as if someone were trying to get my attention in earnest.
In the dream- I whirled around in circles trying to find the source of this voice, I was utterly startled. I looked everywhere. I even went outside the guitarshop and looked around. And all the time, this voice kept calling out for me persistantly.
Then I woke up. And I still heard the voice calling me.
I literally leapt out of bed, dashed to the bedroom door, tore it open, looked and saw...
No one. I was alone. The voice kept going in my head.
I put my hands over my ears and screamed very quietly. Yes it was weird.
I was shaken. Was I losing it?
I sat down and tried to get the story straight.
Who was calling me? Was it some knid of psychic phenomena? Should I call up all my friends and ask them if they dreamed about seeing me in a guitarshop, what the fuck did they want? And how dare they encroach on my dream?!
Fuck Scottsdale!!