Dream 12.13.2017
We're passing through a drab amusement park. Nothing special. Except for a green, steel roller coaster. We step up to the coaster with excitement and fear, both rolling around our stomachs like clothes in a dryer. I look at the riders before us. One girl is screaming and writhing. I don't think it's because of the thrill ride. It seems to me that she has a demon inside of her. We bypass this coaster and leave the park.
Now, at my childhood church in Anderson, Indiana, I watch the worship team play their set. Some of the people on the team are young and inexperienced. One of the singers, a boy in his early teens, is clearly tone-deaf. For some odd reason, they have two drummers. I walk outside the church building, which looks curiously like a barn. For some reason, I jump into my dad's white Ford F-150 and drive it around the small church parking lot. If my dad finds out what I am doing, I will be in a load of trouble. I go to park the vehicle but have an enormous amount of trouble. Eventually, I give up and leave the vehicle where it is.
While the service continues, I walk around to the back of the church where I find woods. A radio blasts music. I can't find the source. I think I hear someone working back here.
I walk into a nearby garage where one of the church goers is working. I don't talk to him. My friend, Ryan, is here. He criticizes the church goer, saying that he never keeps this garage clean. Funny enough, after Ryan's criticism, the church goer and another man clean the garage until it is spotless. I then find my dad's truck parked inside the garage. Dream ends.
I wake up
We're passing through a drab amusement park. Nothing special. Except for a green, steel roller coaster. We step up to the coaster with excitement and fear, both rolling around our stomachs like clothes in a dryer. I look at the riders before us. One girl is screaming and writhing. I don't think it's because of the thrill ride. It seems to me that she has a demon inside of her. We bypass this coaster and leave the park.
Now, at my childhood church in Anderson, Indiana, I watch the worship team play their set. Some of the people on the team are young and inexperienced. One of the singers, a boy in his early teens, is clearly tone-deaf. For some odd reason, they have two drummers. I walk outside the church building, which looks curiously like a barn. For some reason, I jump into my dad's white Ford F-150 and drive it around the small church parking lot. If my dad finds out what I am doing, I will be in a load of trouble. I go to park the vehicle but have an enormous amount of trouble. Eventually, I give up and leave the vehicle where it is.
While the service continues, I walk around to the back of the church where I find woods. A radio blasts music. I can't find the source. I think I hear someone working back here.
I walk into a nearby garage where one of the church goers is working. I don't talk to him. My friend, Ryan, is here. He criticizes the church goer, saying that he never keeps this garage clean. Funny enough, after Ryan's criticism, the church goer and another man clean the garage until it is spotless. I then find my dad's truck parked inside the garage. Dream ends.
I wake up
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