Sunrise

I remem­ber learn­ing in Psy­chol­ogy that dreams some­times act as a way to process our day. Let’s say my dreams don’t always fol­low this model, nei­ther does this one com­pletely, but this dream was pretty close to that over­all idea. So here we go…

The premise was quite sim­i­lar to 28 Days Later. There was a lot of wan­der­ing and evad­ing the “infected.” I don’t remem­ber who exactly was with me, but we were wan­der­ing around L.A. This could have been the sound­track:

I don’t remem­ber where the story began, but the ear­li­est mem­ory I have was that we were in a huge park­ing lot out­side a smaller ver­sion of the Uni­ver­sal Stu­dios tram ride/the tun­nels on the 110 free­way. We walked inside and it was very sim­i­lar to an under­ground sub­way sys­tem for walk­ing. Dalas V. was our host for the tun­nels. It was scary because tons of the “infected” were in the tun­nels and we had to go through in a white can­vas jeep/VW van, looked like some­thing that would be parked at an oasis in the desert.

At one point, we met Bar­bara Jean (Nashville) at her run down man­sion on Mul­hol­land Drive. When we were on her porch I noticed one of the “infected” was this one, but she was no longer “infected”. Another “infected” scratched my thumb, but I was OK. Bar­bara Jean gave us the keys to her Volvo so we could get away from the zom­bies. But she lied to us because she didn’t have any Volvo. There wasn’t any car that had key­less entry at all. We walked around her sta­ble look­ing at all these old dusty cars. We found a Lexus with no engine. Her ser­vants told us there was no car, so we walked off.

I woke up around this time, turned off the fan, and saw the sun ris­ing. There was def­i­nitely more, but it’s been too many hours now to remem­ber any more.