Dreaming of driving

  I've been watching the new Sherlock on BBC, and it's all kinds of good.  With the new season they've introduced the modern Irene Adler.  She's cunning, manipulative and everything Holmes could ask for in an adversary.  It might be an attractive thought to some that they could find someone who matches them so completely, but while Sherlock and Irene may not have exactly been enemies they certainly weren't friends.  Whatever mutual understanding there was between them was also paired with the knowledge that they could never completely trust each other either.  To me, the prospect of having that kind of relationship develop with someone is synonymous with losing a friend.

I've been dreaming a lot of driving lately.

  I was driving through town, while at the same time trying to drive the truck ahead of me by remote control.  It was difficult, but I was managing it suprisingly well.  Until a traffic light turned red just after the truck passed through the intersection but before I could make it through.  Driving the truck without being able to see it was much more difficult, and within a few seconds I'd managed to crash it into the median.
  When the light had changed again, I drove within sight of the truck again and was dismayed to see that a police car had already pulled up beside it.  I was forced to drive past the accident.
  I next found myself entering a lab of some sort.  It hadn't been apparent before, but I then realized that we were doing various experiments in vehicle control.  Julie, my blond partner, and I were working under a dark-haired supervisor.
  Julie immediately pulled me aside and whispered, "Something's wrong.  I haven't heard from the home office in more than a week."  I shushed her as I saw the supervisor heading our way.
  "I lost the truck," I said immediately, to divert his attention from Julie as she tried to look busy.
  "I saw," he said, waving his hand dismissively.  "It doesn't matter.  We're going to Phase 3 now."
  Julie turned toward us from her computer.  "It isn't ready!" she cried.
  "I don't care!" the supervisor exclaimed.  "This is our last chance to make it work or they'll shut us down."
  Personally, I wasn't so sure that would be a bad thing, but I kept my mouth shut.
  The next thing I knew, both Julie and I were being hooked up to a machine via wires inserted into our arms and the backs of our necks.  "Julie isn't prepped for this!" I protested, but the supervisor ignored me and activated the machine.
  Julie became unnaturally pale as connections were made between her and the car.  I knew the same thing was happening to me.  Suddenly, I became aware of the car as an extension of my consciousness.  It wasn't quite a part of me, but I could easily tell where it was and direct it with my mind.  It was parked outside the building, next to the black car that I could somehow tell was Julie's.
  Inside the lab, I looked under one of the tables from my seated position and saw that the connections to the home office had been severed.  The supervisor hadn't received any orders to start Phase 3, he'd been acting on his own.  Next to me, Julie was getting worse.  Her skin had taken on a grey tone, and she was much thinner now.  She was dying.
  So was I.  I couldn't stand to stop what was happening.  So I did the only thing I could think of, and drove my car through the front windows of the building.  The supervisor ran to the door just as my car crashed into it from the other side, killing him.

Then I woke up.

Dreams of an airport

  I was in Denver last week and W deliberately tried to set me up for embarrassment.  I'm starting to get tired of it because it's not even really in good fun any more.  Like she's only doing it for her own private enjoyment.  Fortunately, it didn't work out correctly for her and only ended up being confusing until I ran the whole scene out in my mind again and realized that I hadn't reacted the way she'd wanted me to.
  Yeah, I'm venting again.  I shouldn't try to write so soon after these things happen, but it's been a while since I remembered a dream clearly.

Dreams...
  This one was really more like two different stories that happened in the same location at an airport.

  I was waiting in an airport for something.  I'm not sure what it was, but I know I wasn't flying anywhere.  Maybe I was waiting for someone to arrive?
  The airport itself was a vague amalgamation of all the various airports I've been in over the last month.  Stone pillars, uncomfortable plastic seats, and lots of big windows looking out onto the airfield.
  I was reading a webcomic on my laptop, and mentioned to someone about all the fan-produced poetry and songs that appeared in the comments sections.  I talked mostly about how weird and inappropriate it seemed.  The woman I was talking to somehow got the impression that I was saying I could do better.  She totally agreed with me and said that she couldn't wait to hear it.
  Over the next few minutes, things quickly got much worse.  The woman somehow spread the word around the airport that I was writing a virtual symphony based on this comic.  There were other famous musicians and poets present too, and she roped them into performing the amazing symphony I was supposed to have ready in just a few minutes.
  I frantically tried to tell her, "It's a webcomic!  Look, it's just a collection of individual comic strips with goofy humor and sight gags about mad scientists and explosions.  There's no way to do anything musical with that!"  All any of them had to do was read one strip and they would immediately have seen that what they expected me to do was impossible, but nobody would.
  The crazy woman even managed to find some kind of Eastern tea master, who served us all some kind of exotic brew before we were to perform.  I thought, Well, all these guys are so good, maybe we'll be able to fake something half-way decent.
  It didn't happen.  People crowded around us as we all prepared to play, and I finally had to step forward and admit that I had nothing for them.  I tried to explain again, but no one would listen.  They were seriously angry and offended. A red-faced man said to me, "No, no.  Get away from me.  Don't even talk to me."
  As far as every person in the airport was concerned, I had let them all down and completely failed at being alive.  Rejected and ostricized, I wandered outside.  Finding a grassy patch of lawn, I sat down and gazed up at the clear blue sky.

Something shifted and then I was back on that same lawn.  Time had passed, and something had changed, even though nothing was different.  Looking back, I think that the strange shift was actually me, leaving REM sleep for a time before falling back into it.

  I looked up into the sky and saw an odd black spot in the blue sky.  As I watched it grew larger, until it was as big as the moon in the sky.  People were already pointing and running around in a panic.  Then the black spot split apart into five seperate black shapes.  They were all vaguely human-shaped.
  Aliens were invading.  Huge featureless black aliens.  The fact that these aliens were gigantic, could fly, and had all kinds of dangerous weapons didn't deter me in the least as I ran toward the nearest one that had just landed on the runway.  It kicked over an airliner, causing the plane to explode.
  I didn't have any strange inexplicable super-powers or weapons that only now became apparent.  There wasn't even the expectation of any.  I remember just assuming that somehow, I would defeat them.
  It had almost reached the airport itself when I got to it's foot and, without hesitating, began climbing.  I somehow made it up to the neck and encountered the pilot.  As I fought him hand-to-hand, I was vaguely aware of the other giant alien machines encountering resistance as well, though I'm not sure what it was.  After a few minutes of fighting I managed to kick the pilot in the neck.  I felt something like bones break under the black muscles as my foot connected, and the alien fell.

Then I woke up.