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๐Ÿ”  ๐Ÿ’€  ๐Ÿ“ธ  ๐Ÿ˜ญ  ๐Ÿ•ณ๏ธ  ๐Ÿค   ๐ŸŽฌ  ๐Ÿฅ”

For the second time this

For the second time this week, I actually remembered my dream. Normally, I don’t remember them. In fact, I can’t recall the last time I did; it was probably more than a year ago.

Anyway, back to the dream. The dream began with Elian Gonzalez and that fisherman guy on the top of a 20-story building. A crowd had gathered at the bottom of the building because it looked like Elian was going to jump. Which he did. But the fisherman had tied some fishing line to the boy and began reeling him in using a vacuum cleaner (one of those thin canister ones with the flat cleaning head). The fisherman reeled with all his might and the line grew taut and caught Elian just feet before he hit the ground. He then let out some slack and the boy was lowered slowly to the ground, when the crowd unhooked him.

Just then, out of nowhere, a car plowed into the crowd of people at full tilt, scattering the crowd and killing Elian. The car flipped and ejected its driver, a short, balding, fat man onto the pavement, bruised, but not dead. Just then, a team of black suit and tie-clad G-men appeared out of nowhere, took out their handguns, and plugged the fat man’s body full of bullets, lots of heart and head shots.

And that was it…the last image in the dream was this fat, bald man lying on the pavement, hanging out of his car, with blood gushing out of several gunshots to the head and chest. My interpretation of all this is that Elian represents, well, Elian, the fat man is the media, politician, and American public who are killing Elian by stealing his childhood, and the G-men represent me because I’m sick and tired of hearing about the whole thing.