The Hunger

One of the weird things my body does when I stress out, is have extremely messed up dreams. This is a picture from a dream I had recently.

The dream started with me living in Hood River. There was some kind of strange radioactive fallout that brought the dead back to life and turned them into flesh eating zombies. (Ala "Dawn of the Dead.")

I was holed up in a house with three strangers, another guy and two women. We secured all the windows and doors and knew we were relatively safe at the moment, but needed to come up with a plan of where to go. Staying in the house wasn't an option because the zombies would eventually find us and just wait outside until we starved or tried to make a break for it.

As if things weren't bad enough, some non-zombie-psycho kept breaking into the house because he wanted to rape the two women inside. So, we kept having to chase the psycho rapist away and re-secure the house.

At this point I woke up and thought, "Man that was a fucked up dream." I laid awake in bed for a moment, then when I fell back asleep I re-dreamed the same exact dream. I awoke again thinking, "Jesus, what the Hell is wrong with me"?

About ten minutes later, I fell back asleep and my dream picked up right where it left off.

The four of us managed to get out of the house and lose the psycho before the zombies found us. Our plan was to make it to the river and get on a boat, because everyone knows zombies can't swim, then we would look for someplace safe.

Unfortunately, on our way to the river we ran into a mobster, who just happened to be owed a shit load of money by the other guy in our party. Zombies or no, the mobster wanted his damn money. He decide the best way to get his money was by putting us in a pit with some flesh eating zombies. I managed to escape the pit, but the three others with me were not so lucky and I saw them get torn to bits by the zombies.

I woke up at this point and wondered what I had eaten to give me such horrid dreams. Of course, when I fell back asleep the dream once again picked up right where it left off.

I got away from the mobster and was still trying to make my way to the river. Making my way there, I ran into my best friend. He had been bitten by a zombie and didn't look very good. He told me he was doing OK because he had discovered if you got bitten by a zombie the other zombies no longer came after you and you wouldn't become a flesh eating zombie unless you ate some human flesh, but you did have a constant, deep, hunger for eating humans. As long as you could control your hunger you'd be alright.

While he was explaining this to me I was attacked and bitten by a zombie. My friend helped me destroy the flesh eater and escape, but by then it was to late. I felt the hunger, I wanted to eat some human flesh.

We decided we would stick together and watch each others backs. It seemed like a good idea, but we had to sleep with one eye open for fear of the other person giving in to their cravings.

Once again I woke up. I probably should have just gotten out of bed, but I still felt exhausted and when I fell back asleep I was in the same dream, but a few weeks had passed.

The zombies had moved on to other cities in search of human flesh. My friend and I stayed in what was now the deserted ruins of Hood River. While rummaging through the city we came across a young kid who had turned the local comic book shop into his home. He had also discovered a way to make french fries using potatoes, plastic and cardboard.

I ate a few of his makeshift fries and started to cry. "I forgot how good food could taste." I sobbed, between mouthfuls. "Even the cardboard and plastic taste wonderful."

I ate some more and cried.

Then I woke up and decided I had had enough of this dream. So, I went downstairs and made some scones.

Anyone care to take a crack at interpreting that dream? Anyone want to leave me some love?