Okay...it's about 1:10 PM here on the West Coast, and I just woke up in a cold sweat. I work graveyard, so I've gotta be at work by at 11 tonight, which is why I was in bed at this time of day anyway.
Normally, even when I do have dreams, I forget most of the details, and I only remember the bare minimum about it...but not this one, and the fact that if felt so real, the fact I remember so much about it...it scares me somehow, and I'm not someone to get easily scared. As a matter of fact, I'd say this qualifies as a nightmare, and any nightmares I've ever had before this one either involved me falling off something or seeing a loved one, usually my little brother or sister, nearly lose their lives. This was so different, so vivid, that it really disturbs me.
Now, the first part of the dream that I remember was that I was a house guest somewhere for some really old, really sick guy who was good friends with another really old, really sick guy who also happened to be a bigshot mafioso. That I remember because there were always a bunch of mafia guys (younger guys anyway) who were hanging on his front lawn. There were two other houseguest and you'd be real surprised why they of all people are there: Randy Couture, the current UFC Heavyweight champion and a guy who is universally loved by all fans who follow the sport of MMA, and Floyd Mayweather, the current WBC Welterweight champion and P4P king of boxing who is fighting Oscar de la Hoya in a week and a half, and someone in sports who I truly despise and detest.
Well, for most of the dream, it had me and Mayweather at each others throats, verbally, and Couture trying to keep us apart, while the old guy who was our host seemed to be amused by most of it. At some point, Mayweather challenged me to a fight, so we went up to the attic and brawled. For some reason, we both had weapons: He had some sort of fencing sabre, I had a small knife. As we're fighting, he gets me in the chest with his sabre, just holding there. Somehow, I grabbed the sword blade and rolled into it, simultaneously wrapping it around myself as I drew closer to him, slashing out at him in wide circular motions. When I forced the sabre out of Mayweather's hands and threw it to the ground, I remember this part the most: he was looking at me in a weird combination of disbelief and disappointment. He opened his shirt up and I saw 3 large slash marks on his torso, so deep and so surgical that they practically sliced the skin and flesh off his body. He collapsed onto his face dead, and me, naturally, I started panicking. Couture and our infirmed host see me tearing my own jacket off and trying to wipe my hands off on it, and somehow, they know what had happened. They tell me to go across the street to the mafia house and ask for help.
At this point my dream got weird, and I went across the street, but no one could help me over there. I remember heading back, dejected, and seeing all sorts of cleaning people over there, cleaning up the attic and them, along with the host and Couture, acting like nothing happened.
What does this mean? I've never in my life dreamed that I killed anyone, at least, not directly like that. As a matter of fact, before this one, anything that I dreamt where the context would have been me in a war or in a shootout and shooting at people, I always seemed to have blanks in my gun or something, because I'd shoot people at near point blank and nothing would happen. Now, I kill someone prominent and famous that I hate, and nothing comes of it. More disturbingly, Couture and the host aren't even upset by this whole ordeal, but they act like they knew this would happen. I don't know if I've ever been this distressed about a dream, so much so that I'm spilling my guts here on a post board. Why am I having this sort of dream? Especially when the two famous people in my dream reflect the two extremes in which I hold two different fighters in two different sports: the classy, dignified Randy Couture, and the arrogant, detestable Floyd Mayweather. What does this all mean for me? Is it some sort of prediction, of something that will happen to me soon, or something that'll happen to Mayweather, who actually does have a huge fight coming up on May 5?
I hate for this post to be so long, and most people tend to gloss over anything real long and won't bother to read. That's fine. As for anyone who took the time to read and comprehend, perhaps they'd be willing to help me understand all this.