I dreamed I was on my motorcycle, and I was traveling down a stretch of road where water had made an incursion onto the pavement. I felt the tires getting sloppy, and my weight shifted on the bike. Sure enough, I began to veer, unavoidably, toward the side of the road.
It was a high speed, slow motion event. Like a bowling ball being magnetically drawn to the gutter, I was pulled inextricably toward the ditch, destined to make contact with a barbwire fence in 4,3,2,1...and I woke up.
Before that, I have only a vague sense of a dream in which I was a rather confused person. I had a box that I was toting around with some exotic strain of cannabis in it. I was proud of it and asked a friend to smell it. It was a deep purple color and had a chocolaty aroma. He smelled it dutifully, but wasn't overly impressed.
I put the large bud back in the box and immediately noticed that I had lost most of the contents of the box while dragging it around from place to place. I walked back over my route but only found unsalvageable piles of powder mixed with dirt.
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I've changed my comments settings to allow for anyone to comment. All comments are welcome, even spineless potshots from anonymous posters. Please, by all means, give me the tongue lashing I so richly deserve. I promise not to hunt you down and melt your keyboard with my plasma cannon. I won't, however, promise not to pout and make that face you can't stand.