3/31/09 - Arabs Destroy America

Setting: Post Arab/Israeli war. I was surrounded by other Americans so I believed the setting to be the U.S., though it could have been one of the countries involved and we may have been captives. Overcast skies, sun is just beginning to set.

Perspective: first person.

I'm walking through a gift shop. The doors are open and the room is lit up by the glow of the white, overcast sky. I decided to look for a birthday cards. (*Kevin's birthday is in a few days and I got Vincent a card to give him yesterday.) Next to the cards was a rack of journals. One of them had already been written on, but only the first and last page. It was a journal that belonged to my friend Nicole Pippin. When I reached this part of my dream, I remembered that I had a prior dream the same night about hanging out with her and some other girl friends of mine, but I can't remember that part of the dream right now.

My friends and I walk out of the shop, and though the preceding scene of this dream seemed relatively commonplace, it is now clear that things are not normal.

Our nation is destroyed; most of the population is dead, though bodies don't lie around. Buildings are demolished but the American survivors have begun to set up shops in what is left of the most stable buildings and slowly try to clean up and start over. The sky is completely overcast, and from the glow behind the clouds it looks like it is now about 7:00-7:30pm; the sun is just starting to set.

There are not many people around, there is no visible plant life, and all the buildings are destroyed around us. The only people I can see in any direction are the 40 or so that are immediately around me. They are sitting under a large, covered outdoor patio in front of a crumbling stone building, of which I had the impression was a theater of some kind... or used to be at least. They are just hanging out; some are eating, and the tables and benches appear to be built from stone as well. This is the most stable-looking building in the area. The opening to this building has no door; it is like a rectangular cave entrance. I am with two Israeli friends of mine (who I do not recognize in real life) one man and one woman. Both appear to be in their late 20's - early 30's in age, both slender, dark hair, wearing average-looking jeans & t-shirts. We sit down at a table amongst some of those other people; a couple of whom I recognize as Brandon Becker and another as Daniel Dietz.

A woman leader comes out, she appears trustworthy, though I get a cold vibe from her. My friends got up from their table and were walking away from the building, talking to each other before going separate directions toward their individual modes of transportation. As we are walking away I realize that I have Vincent with me. I am not sure what happened to the rest of my family and friends, but I was carrying him at my chest with some sort of makeshift front-baby-backpack thing. We are each walking in separate directions, and the woman figure comes out of the stone building and motions with her hands for the group to go inside. I got the feeling that my friends and I were supposed to go in there as well, but no one came to stop us from leaving.

As we walked away, the guy friend tells us that he is glad that the Arabs were victorious. The girl friend turns to walk backwards so she can face him as she shouts in response, "How could you say that when they are the ones who did this?" I seemed to wonder as well. I was closer in distance to him than she was, so he looks to me and talks as though I would understand his thinking more and says,

"Whether they win or not, all we can hope for is that we will not be there."

I understood him to mean that whatever was coming would be worse to live through. He was saying that he would have rather had died in whatever caused this devastation than to have survived it to remember it, and that it was going to get worse.

By now the three of us were to the places we were walking; the girl to her beat up car, the guy to some sort of 'low-rider unicycle' looking thing... it did not look like a unicycle though it had only one wheel; it was more like a single-seater car that was missing a lot of parts. His was parked in a run down gas station and he lit up a cigarette. This might explain why the place didn't explode. I was with Vincent and was about to sit on a bike to go wherever I had to go to. I looked back at the stone building and as the crowd walked in, they looked down on us for not going with them, though I have no idea why; I think they just didn't understand why we wouldn't want to go in. We didn't have a reason, we just went our separate ways.

The final image is so clear in my mind; the dream was first person view the entire way through this time, and what I saw was my hair blowing in the soft but dry breeze in front of my face, Vincent strapped to my chest in front of me while I kissed his head and he was smiling, unknowing of what has gone on... I saw hard dirt/dust below my feet and the building as I turned to look at those entering it, with the destroyed landscape around me, all lit up by the increasingly orange, sunset sky.