I’m driving through the suburbs. I see some ordinary looking suburbanites, a man and woman, working in their yard. Suddenly my car swerves and I end up driving into their yard. The woman is yelling at me. I keep trying to turn around or get the car out and back to the road. I can’t figure it out. Tires spinning. I’m leaving huge ruts. Tearing apart their landscaping.
The woman is scolding me. Calling me drunk, which I deny. Then I notice the whole passenger side of the car is full of empty beer cans. I wonder if I am sober. I get the car out and speed away.
A little further down the road, I happen upon a new house which is flowing red with blood; running down the roof, flooding the gutters and spilling down the walls into the yard. Covering the whole house and it just keeps endlessly flowing. I get out of the car, climb a ladder next to the house, and get my arms into the gutter. I’m trying to clear it out. Unclog it. Get it to stop. It is futile.
While I struggle with it, a group of three girls walk nearby. They are staring at me. They look disgusted and gossip while I work. This makes me upset so I climb down and run over to them. My arms and torso are covered in thick blood. I try to explain to them that the house is really the latest art installation from world renowned shock artist Damien Hirst. They don’t believe me. We walk together to the Bread Company.
This is the dream I had last night. Feel free to interpret it as you please.
(Special thanks to Cabarcas for the image used above!)
