Wednesday, September 26, 2007


I had a dream last night that Muslim terrorists attacked a cruise ship on which I was celebrating some fancy occasion with a lot of random people I have known in life. I was also with little children, which I don't believe were mine, but were under my care. In any case, they rushed in on the celebration and surrounded everyone and loudly pronounced that in just a few moments everyone would go to Allah. One of the terrorists, with a pirate-like head wrap, rather than a turban, ran toward me and grabbed my arm, yelling some angry unintelligible nonsense at me, but I tried to talk to him and explain to him that because I am not an American, I should be spared. I begged with him to spare me and the children and I guess it worked, because next thing I remembered, I was in a hotel-like room. There was noise and chaos outside the doors, and I kept the lights off, not to give our presence away. I was laying down on the floor, urging the children to do the same. I was worried that I didn't know where my husband was. Both of my cats were there too, and they were running around the room as if nothing was wrong. Then suddenly he came - the terrorist that spared my life. He was angry, but seemed tired from all the slaughter and marauding he was just engaged in. Without hesitation, I stabbed him in the neck with a blue Bic pen multiple times, but he just wouldn't die. He would stagger about, bleeding a shockingly small amount of blood from the multiple wounds I inflicted on him. I stabbed him several more times in the neck, and then in the chest and back, and I think finally it worked. He collapsed. I was frustrated - I felt myself exerting the force necessary to slay him, I felt the resistance of his muscles to the relatively dull pen. I don't remember what happened next because I soon woke up. I was in a cold sweat. It was disturbing in a way I can't quite put a word to. My determination to kill this man was frighteningly intense.

Surely I am going insane.