The Dream

Okay, y’all. I’ve got to write this down because I had the weirdest dream this morning that has nothing to do with anything other than me trying to get a few extra minutes of sleep in between alarms. This dream was so trippy that, in the course of the five minutes in real time that it occupied, I decided that I would rather just wake up than deal with this weird as hell fragment of a dream.

You’ve been warned.

So, my first alarm went off. I begged the universe for thirty more minutes since I had not slept well over night. I closed my eyes and almost instantly saw myself walking down the street with a man. He was sharply dressed as ZZ Top would want. He almost looked like a tall Monopoly guy. Suddenly, he whipped out his umbrella with a hook at the end and stuck it straight into the ground, effectively grabbing on to the number “6” below our feet.

I was rightfully alarmed as just seconds ago, this was an average sidewalk with nothing special about it.

“What?! How did you do that?!” I demanded.

“Why, we’re on a clock, my dear,” he said like it was completely obvious. He whipped out another umbrella and stuck it straight ahead to hook on the number “3”. I took a small step away and saw that we were, in fact, on the face of a clock.

“When did that happen?” I asked, worried about whether or not my walking partner would be freed from his new time-telling position. As if trying to force me away from him in shock, the man’s shirt opened just on his chest as another exact version of his face emerged from his flesh.

“You’re running out of time,” the second head whispered, staring straight at me. I took several steps away until I was out of the clock face. The man was still there, but I was determined not to be stuck near him any longer. As I was backing away, I bumped into someone. I turned around and saw, who else?

Shia LaBeouf.

Just kidding.

It was Zac Efron.

He was in the midst of his throws of passion from the infamous song “Bet On It”. (In case you don’t know what that looks like, please click here.)

Obviously, I joined him in aggressively dancing while trying to make important life decisions. When I missed a step, I woke up.

The dream felt like hours, but it had only lasted five minutes according to my clock.

I thought about trying to go back to sleep, but the prospect of having to golf/dance my way away from the two-headed clock man was too much for me, so I started my day.

I have no idea where the fuck this monstrosity of a dream came from. Please inform me if you laced a drink of mine with LSD or any such substance.

Thank you for your time in my messed up head.

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