Let's Get Him!

Who would want to hurt such a happy go lucky guy?

Its been awhile since I last dreamt, a defense mechanism perhaps? But last night was different.

For some reason I was transported back to my last days in New Westminster, I was in some sort of classroom setting, at a desk. I began to draw. It was wonderful, I was free of inhibition, relaxed, not worried about what I was making, just making it. The paper was low grade news print, the kind kids make quick scribbles on. I was drawing a cityscape that looked like the view of downtown Vancouver from Kits beach, using the eraser at the end of the pencil I smudged in clouds. I could draw, I mean it looked really good, so I started another one. This one was darker, I don't recall the actual execution of the drawing, just the completed image. It was all black and had figures dancing, similar to Matisse's dancers. There was text, in a very stylized script, flowing across the black, underneath the dancers. I don't know what it said.

Here's where it gets really weird.
I was outside, with a group of people, girls were there, but I don't remember who they were. I was standing in front of a massive Fisher Price playhouse. All of a sudden, Raggedy Anne and Andy dolls began swarming out the doors and windows of the playhouse, they were big too, and running for their lives. As a group we started into a frantic pace after the dolls. I clearly remember sticking my foot out and tripping up an Andy with brown pants and checked shirt. It came to a crash on the ground, rolling, its legs flailing about as the momentum from its terror dash subsided into a heap on the ground. My dream comrades noticed this and a swarm ensued. I remember watching the scene unfold like a crane shot in a movie. All I could see was a large group of people pummeling this poor Andy doll.

Then I woke up, and went to work.