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Protest Dream - The Life and Thoughts of Zach — LiveJournal

Jan. 12th, 2004

06:44 am - Protest Dream

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I Just dreamt that I was at a protest like Miami but after Miami, the next confrontation. The dream started out as a kind of brainstorm on tactics. This protest is happening somewhere that is a kind of combination of Florida and California. The protestors are lined up facing the cops and some black bloc kids set up a line of smoke bombs on the ground and light them. As soon as they pull out the lighter the cops start advancing and shooting but the huge wall of thick black smoke rises up before the cops get there. People start running. We start chanting "walk" to get them to stop. And I start trying to encourage people to go back and sit down. We have the upper hand here because of the smoke, they can't see us to shoot at us. (This reasoning made more sense to me in the dream, somehow in the dream the smoke gave us power). I turned around and walked back.

The really weird thing is that my affinity group was me and my friends from Junior High School who I haven't seen since 1992 or so, Derek and Mike. I lost track of them because we weren't linking arms or keeping track of each other because the smoke made us forget about the presense of the cops and we felt safe.

I was walking back towards the smoke and by this time a whole bunch of people were returning to the line and marching around. Somehow it seemed like we'd beaten the cops, we'd established our right to march. People were marching right along the front line. But then, out of nowhere, somehow my marching intersected with a line of people being escorted by cops onto a bus. I got tangled up in this line even though I wasn't being arrested and when I tried to get out they made me get on this bus.

So then there's a scene where everyone on this bus is singing some song about police state oppression.

After a series of transfers I end up on a bus with my sister's boyfriend Eric and this driver guy. It's just the three of us in a kind of small bus van kind of thing. We're being taken to an official "citizens gas sanctuary", a place where anyone can go to be safe from Tear gas. What this really is is a place really far from the protest to dump off the protestors. While we ride we're chatting with the cop who is driving the bus. It seems like he's pretty pissed at Timoney (who is mentioned by name as the top cop in this dream city). We share some of the other outrageous stories we've heard about how the cops were being overworked and underpaid and ask for confirmation. He doesn't know but he isn't surprised. I ask him if there's anything he can do, even something as simple as when it's all over submitting an anonymous comment card as an employee about his boss. I say it'd be cool if hundreds of cops all expressed their frustrations in this way. He says he might think about it.

The bus drive seems to last for hours and hours. We're driving on mountain/country roads towards the ocean. At one point the bus just stops near a cliff in the middle of nowhere. I say "_this_ is the gas sanctuary?" The driver says "no, what I'm actually going to do is have you guys walk back from here."

Suddenly we're getting a very creepy vibe from this driver guy.

Outside it is VERY dark. There's no street lights or anything and it is night time. No moonlight or light polution from the city, just deep country dark.

We're eager to get on the road and get the hell out of there as this guy is saying less and less rational stuff. I've got it all recorded on my mp3 recorder and if we can just get out of there it'll be huge. We get out of the bus, pretending to be grateful for his generosity in letting us walk back instead of taking us to the gas sanctuary. He gets out of the parked bus and starts following us, saying more creepy stuff (the creepy stuff he's saying is subtly creepy, stuff about how grateful we should be to him and how hard of a walk it is back to the city, all said in a mantra like kind of way and with a drunken slur, like he was raving). We look at each other and start to jog and this whole predator prey thing starts in but my legs have that dream paralysis going on (in LOTS of my dreams I have to run by I can barely move my legs at all, I'm totally stiff). Then I wake up.

You can't trust dream cops. Even when they seem nice.


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Date:January 12th, 2004 05:29 pm (UTC)
"You can't trust dream cops. Even when they seem nice."
The IRL versions can be pretty tricky, too.

Wanna hear my recurrent dream? Since early 70s (though, thank the gawds, not very often) ... short version.
So, the good news is, I have managed to give the Gestapo-like special spooks the slip ... but it wasn't easy, and I've had to go to ground ... deeply ... underground, literally.
The walls are slimey; the sound of dripping storm water; I've holed up at the end of a smaller tunnel ... but the gunshot wound to my thigh just doesn't stop bleeding ... I know they're up there; are they my persecutors? or my rescuers?
It's good to rest ... so much running ... the fear and tension ... I huddle for warmth ...

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