September 03: A Magical, Angry, Water Bottle-Powered Flight

Just one dream to journal from last night...

The dream:  I don't remember much of the events leading up to this part of the dream, but where it became clear is when I was at a church with a large group of people.  For some reason I was livid, lashing out at everyone and acting extremely hostile and angry.  It became evident that I was part of a production of a play, but I wasn't suited to the role to which I was cast. So I decided to leave.  My cousin was there, so I said goodbye, and walked outside into the church parking lot.  Once outside, I decided that I needed to fly to New York - and "fly" in my dreams rarely means via airplane, as this dream would prove.  My means of flight in this dream?  Two liter-sized water bottles.  Yes, by putting one half-filled water bottle under each arm, I was somehow able to fly (the water bottles providing buoyancy on the air, apparently?). 

So off I went, flying up out of the church parking lot into the evening sky.  I looked around me to get my bearings, and started heading west - "toward Seattle," I thought to myself (the completely wrong way, I apparently didn't think to myself).  From here on out, the dream was a rather long flight over hills, fields, and towns.  After a while, I realized that I was dreaming (how I didn't realize beforehand is beyond me), and so I got bored of flying and decided to land and explore a small town I had flown over.  Outside of a house, I saw some writing on the wall... but I can't quite remember what it said, and I woke up.

My thoughts:  I'd like to say that this is the weirdest method of travel I've experienced in a dream, but no: I'd say that honor goes to the dream wherein I was driving on a freeway by sitting length-wise in a large duffel bag -- feet pushing against one end, back up against the other -- and holding on to the straps to "steer" my "vehicle." Somehow the duffel bag could just... go... down the road at highway speeds as I wove in and out of traffic: no means of propulsion, no means of avoiding friction from the asphalt - no, just the thin canvas between my rear end and the road at 75 miles per hour.  Makes perfect sense.