Cinematic Sleep

Bad dreams are great! In the last one, there was an alpha-male bully who looked a lot like the young Ted Nugent. Great hair, great bones on that bastard. I was riding my bicycle on a circular riding track, twenty feet in diameter, in a store front across from the PNC building downtown. 'Ted' got on the track on his super Harley, broadsided me on my bicycle, causing the handle bars on both vehicles to lock together. He then forced me to circle the track at high speed, yours truly unable to dislodge from the coupling. All the while, 'Ted' was smiling, brutally, inches from my face, and he seemed much too powerful to punch out, though I considered trying. It's such a drag when you do so, and it doesn't work. Add that one can't control a two wheel vehicle and brawl at the same time.

I managed to get off my bike and get away, to the Northside Park area. It was rimmed with crowds of mean looking, gnome-like people who exuded hate and misery. Realizing my bicycle was still down town, I got back where I was, downtown, faster than humanly possible, and began looking for it. Across the street, 'Ted' was pulling up on his power bike. He parked it, got off, and engaged a bystander in a fight, kicking his victim in the face, decking him. But he left me alone, and as I searched the mini-track outer flooring, there were bicycles that looked like mine, but weren't. There was a seedy old man at a desk to one side of the bike track, looked like the character 'Ollie' in the film Repo Man. I demanded he compensate me for my lost bicycle. Other people were there, also demanding he pay for their lost bicycles. He uttered a load of BS, and offered me nine bucks. Other people were demanding hundreds of dollars, and were getting the same BS from 'Ollie.'

Waking, I crossed the house to get to the coffee, and saw my bicycle parked in the kitchen, per weird normal for me. It took minutes to fully realize there's no twenty foot circular bicycle track across from PfuckingNC. There had been no 'Ted.' Sigmund Freud might have agreed that the subconscious mind is like a Waring blender, turning that which was real into a recondite reality frappe. I got picked on a lot when I was kid, and it didn't change all that much as an adult.