Dream

Ever since I've moved away from home I have remembered my dream nearly every night and am considering making a dream diary. I am going to write my one from last night down so I don't forget it. It was especially potent. I also want to open it up to the masses for interpretation and fun. In the dream I was hanging out with a few friends, I don't remember which ones just that it consisted of me, two guys, and a girl. It seemed like the girl was very special to me. We were in some public location and 3 men in suits showed up and pulled out guns, without warning they started firing. I think we were in a city park. My friends ducked and went for cover but I went berserk, diving at the middle man as he fired directly at me. Brutishly I attacked him as the other two continued to fire at me. The first man went down, I had his gun. I fired at the second man while taking cover. A bullet went directly into his face blowing it exxageratedly apart. My gun was empty. The third man, sole survivor, began to ignore my existence. To me, the dream me, this seemed odd, after all I had been the attacker while the others ducked smartly to their safety. The man turn to where my friends were hiding and began to fire at their spots. I never saw them all I saw was the back of the man's trenchcoat. Without a thought I grabbed a jagged stick, rushed the man and jabbed it repeatedly into his side, killing him as well. The next part of the dream is like the following scene if it were a movie. No transition. I'm just in a new place. I'm in a rundown hospital with one of the guys who was with me at the park. I'm sitting on the checkup table like you were waiting for the family doctory. A doctor walks in, tells me to take off my shirts. I look down and I have holes all over. Two of them have bullets sticking out of them. I just go, "woaaah," the doctor goes, "hmmmmmmm," counts to seven and says, "looks like you've been shot seven times." Then a girl walks in. She is wonderful in every way a girl can be wonderful. She hands a clipboard to the doctor and waits by his side. She is wonderful. The doctor tells me he will remove the bullets later but for now go have a good time. I then go out into a sort of waiting area that reminds me of an orphanage. I see a lot of people the dream me knows and I go around telling everyone how I got shot seven times and how I'm kind of like fiddy. The wondress, the young beauty from the office, steps behind me and says, " oh shut your mouth, fiddy got shot nine time and you only got shot 7 yah prick." She had an accent. It was wonderful. She took me into the other room and pulled out the first of the bullets. Dream me begins to wonder at the fact that I had been shot 7 times, not been bangaged, was still bleeding all over the place, had a bullet in me, but was walking around shooting the shit like I was at the governor's ball. Also I realized, what happened to the other two in my crew? The one other guy and the girl who I felt connected to? Either way, the wonderful girl and I (she really is wonderful) chat it up playfully while she rips metal from my gut. Before she rips out the other I say, " we can save that for later, lets go somewhere." We go to some neighborhood and sit on the curb as cars pass. I wear a blood-soaked shirt and she wears something wonderful. I don't know what we talk about just that we laughed, bled and formed a bond. Now not only was she wonderful, but so was I. We were wonderful. Later I was walking down that street feeling sad and thinking about something. The dream switched to what I was thinking about. A memory within a dream. What's that all about? It was of the wonder couple, she and I in some sort of situation where she was sitting behind me and forced to clasp her arms around my middle to hold on. I twinged with pain with her arms on my still open wounds. I yelped and mentioned that she was hurting me, she laughed, stuck her thumb in a wound and flicked the bullet that was still hanging out. I laughed at that, thought it hurt like the dickens. Back to me walking. I pull up my shirt, now crusty with bloods and look down at my wounds. They are no longer bleeding, they are clean but open. They looked like if you paper hole punched a pig corpse that had been drained of blood. Anyway, I look a the bullet sticking out. I reach down, grab it and pull it out, Something white and round falls out and bounces down the cobblestone street. Did I mention it was cobblestone? I look at what I pulled out, the bullet, and it's not a bullet. It's a cigar with the inside emptied out. The empty space has been filled with pearls. I look at the open wound and see pearls inside me. I squeeze and pop them out like they are the pus from a zit. Some are pretty deep. I continue to walk, jingling the pearls in my palm and walk up to the Wonderful girl. Things are generally sad. I toss her a pearl. She catches it, looks up at me from her squaggly legged spot on the curb. She looks wonderful. She stares at me, then at the pearl, and then at me, then stands up with tears and yells at me. Then I wake up. That's it.

What the fuck is that? Somebody please tell me what that is.