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Pastimes : Don't Ask Rambi -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Jacques Chitte who wrote (24325)	5/12/1999 3:58:00 PM
From: Gauguin	Respond to of 71178

I lived in Alhambra (CA, unfortunately) ~ I had forgotten about this for years, decades ~ I was really traumatized by a dream of being hit by a bomb. Boy that sounds funny. (We have two different people here?) We moved to Pasadena, outside the bombing area completely, when I was 6 or seven, so I know I was pretty young. And I had this dream ~ god I dreaded it ~ I had this dream many times. From 4 1/2 to 5 1/2? It was bad. Very realistic technically; but implausible. It was a 500 pound bomb coming straight down out of the sky, at me. I would look up and see its silver green shape headed right down on me, up my nose. Bang on the top of my head. I'd try to run, and of course, as everyone knows, bombs change course and are still right over you the next time you look up. Which, come to think of it, is actually relevant to bomb-sight technology. Didn't think of that. They're also moving really fast but not fast enough to hit you before you look up again praying it will miss you. This was horrible. Really, really, horrifying. Real death fear panic. Same house and yard, I could draw the plan, as my little wasp encounter. (Any wonder I'm fukked up? Huh? heh heh.) Shiny gray elliptical cone in the bright sun; fin section. I would wake up, or be unable to. I never told anyone, duh, because I thought it would be stupid, but it was scaring the shit out of me. I'm guessing I dreamed it between 10 and 25 times, because sometimes it would just repeat immediately. (Are you dialing someone? WHO ARE YOU DIALING!) (Jus' kiddin.) Guys aboard the Yorktown, I was just reading, shredded the plane that loosed the bomb that hit the deck, but the bomb just kept coming with the wreckage. A guy who survived, saw it coming, and had it land ten feet behind him; blowing people into asymmetric parts. Quickly. And then there's that thought I had recently watching Battlefield, that with millions of bombs and shells dropped in WW II, quite a few people must have been hit on the head. I don't know if that's insult to injury, but there's something wacky about it. But even then I didn't remember this dream. It might be the first dream I can remember. I can remember the second and third; one of them was nicer. It involved a Spanish senorita, and an article of folk clothing, and a staircase, and I survived uninjured, and the damn thing only repeated half a time. Crap. Real balance. Two young and handsome racoons peeked in the front window right here last night, and danced around a bit. They really do have those little black Zorro masks. Amazing.