When one dreams...
Dreams can be such strange animals. Especially with how people you know aren't exactly those people in the dream, rather a representation of them, or a symbol of them, or even of a thing. My dream last night was full of those. And in incredible detail, which I will spare you due to the immensity of it.
The meeting was over. Not just any meeting, mind you. This was a meeting that was both intimate and large at the same time (one of those dream things), and was with a very important Emerging Church leader. Walking out of the double doors into the large and glamorous main room with my friend, Eminem, we hardly noticed the strangely familiar guy holding the door. At least, until he began being quite vocal about how he was "saved, praise God, Halleluyah!" and how he was from Ohio.
"Bobby?" I asked. In which he came towards me, astonished that I knew his name. "Bobby Bickel?" And he assured me that was his name. "You need to tell Bobby to call a friend he hasn't talked to in a very long time." I said to my age old friend, who it felt like I barely knew. (He's not actually from Ohio in real life, but he can get pretty Christianese in his talk.)
Then he recognized Eminem and would not shut-up about music from that point on. Eminem was pretty annoyed and tried to get away from him as quickly and politely as possible. All this time, I kept walking towards the exit doors, to leave them to themselves.
I exited into a very large mall. I had a small backpack-like thing strapped around my shoulder, and dug out a phone to call someone about the meeting. As I was walking and describing the meeting I had just had with "no the other one, without the hair... not Steve Collins", I heard my name called out loudly from behind me in the distance. I hung up the phone, and began looking for where my name was coming from. Bobby and a friend of his ran past me towards where the noise was coming from, clammering about with an urgency not to miss their flight. "Brad Gressett!" I heard again, but this time with more. "Flight 1605 is loading, will Brad Gressett please check-in?!" I was confused, but went towards the entrance gate, that looked much like a bank does in Wal-Mart. There was a long line for several other flights, but my name and flight 1605 kept being called with urgency.
I approached the window, and the manager approached me. "You were calling my name, Brad Gressett?" I asked.
"Yes, we have a ticket for you" She said as she took my I.D.
"Where to?" I said in dismay.
"Victory, New York."
"Hmm... how much"?
"$15, after the discounts and prepay."
Someone had apparently bought a ticket for me that I knew nothing about, and the plane was about to leave. And I only owed a small amount more. I was intrigued, curious as to who or what was waiting for me in New York, and yet worried about if I could get back, especially if I was there alone. So I asked, "Is it round trip?"
Wow, it was round trip, and also only $5, once they ran it through again. I gladly gave them the money and recieved my boarding pass. Then I asked if Victory was anywhere near Buffalo.
"No..." she said, as I realized at that moment where it was, and said the words with her as she finished and I walked in the terminal, "it's just south of New York City."
Rushed and still confused, I grabbed my boarding pass and began looking for a gate number. I had no idea where to go. After realizing that 1605 didn't have a gate number among all the gates, rather the flight numbers 1602, 1603, 1604, 1605 and 1607 all painted neatly on the grey cinderblock wall, behind me, with arrows pointing down the hallways to my right. I stumbled a bit, ran into a garbage can that the janitor was trying to clean out, and proceeded towards the hallway leading to the outdoors, and my flight, still clutching the boarding pass in my hand.
Then I woke up, and immediantly knew what it meant and who all the people were in real life.
Dreams are cool like that sometimes. Though I'm sure the meaning of it wouldn't make much sense unless you have been closely involved in our lives lately.
The meeting was over. Not just any meeting, mind you. This was a meeting that was both intimate and large at the same time (one of those dream things), and was with a very important Emerging Church leader. Walking out of the double doors into the large and glamorous main room with my friend, Eminem, we hardly noticed the strangely familiar guy holding the door. At least, until he began being quite vocal about how he was "saved, praise God, Halleluyah!" and how he was from Ohio.
"Bobby?" I asked. In which he came towards me, astonished that I knew his name. "Bobby Bickel?" And he assured me that was his name. "You need to tell Bobby to call a friend he hasn't talked to in a very long time." I said to my age old friend, who it felt like I barely knew. (He's not actually from Ohio in real life, but he can get pretty Christianese in his talk.)
Then he recognized Eminem and would not shut-up about music from that point on. Eminem was pretty annoyed and tried to get away from him as quickly and politely as possible. All this time, I kept walking towards the exit doors, to leave them to themselves.
I exited into a very large mall. I had a small backpack-like thing strapped around my shoulder, and dug out a phone to call someone about the meeting. As I was walking and describing the meeting I had just had with "no the other one, without the hair... not Steve Collins", I heard my name called out loudly from behind me in the distance. I hung up the phone, and began looking for where my name was coming from. Bobby and a friend of his ran past me towards where the noise was coming from, clammering about with an urgency not to miss their flight. "Brad Gressett!" I heard again, but this time with more. "Flight 1605 is loading, will Brad Gressett please check-in?!" I was confused, but went towards the entrance gate, that looked much like a bank does in Wal-Mart. There was a long line for several other flights, but my name and flight 1605 kept being called with urgency.
I approached the window, and the manager approached me. "You were calling my name, Brad Gressett?" I asked.
"Yes, we have a ticket for you" She said as she took my I.D.
"Where to?" I said in dismay.
"Victory, New York."
"Hmm... how much"?
"$15, after the discounts and prepay."
Someone had apparently bought a ticket for me that I knew nothing about, and the plane was about to leave. And I only owed a small amount more. I was intrigued, curious as to who or what was waiting for me in New York, and yet worried about if I could get back, especially if I was there alone. So I asked, "Is it round trip?"
Wow, it was round trip, and also only $5, once they ran it through again. I gladly gave them the money and recieved my boarding pass. Then I asked if Victory was anywhere near Buffalo.
"No..." she said, as I realized at that moment where it was, and said the words with her as she finished and I walked in the terminal, "it's just south of New York City."
Rushed and still confused, I grabbed my boarding pass and began looking for a gate number. I had no idea where to go. After realizing that 1605 didn't have a gate number among all the gates, rather the flight numbers 1602, 1603, 1604, 1605 and 1607 all painted neatly on the grey cinderblock wall, behind me, with arrows pointing down the hallways to my right. I stumbled a bit, ran into a garbage can that the janitor was trying to clean out, and proceeded towards the hallway leading to the outdoors, and my flight, still clutching the boarding pass in my hand.
Then I woke up, and immediantly knew what it meant and who all the people were in real life.
Dreams are cool like that sometimes. Though I'm sure the meaning of it wouldn't make much sense unless you have been closely involved in our lives lately.