You thought I was going to start this thing off with some embarrassingly self-absorbed, jejune dream-journal didn't you?
Well, for the benefit of those of you who will never, ever read this. (I'm looking at you, cruel world) I may just have to lower myself to your expectations...
#1. Freaky murder mystery set in an unsettlingly affable alpine community.
Who dunnit? Well, Me, as it turns out! But honestly, even when the body parts started piling up, I still thought of myself as an innocent bystander. Then the giant wooden puppet (subbing for Pyramid Head, I guess) grabbed me by the neck and I awoke with a sufficiently loud girly scream to wake the whole damn house.
#2. H.P. Lovecraft. In a nutshell, HPL either killed his mother, blew up his mother, or was his mother before disappearing in another bizarre murder mystery.
My subconscious had me digging in his past for possible motives for causing the explosion which may or may not have killed him.
Odd that Dana Andrews showed up for the wake, as did Anita Ekberg, FDR, and Hitchcock.
The dream ended in b&w (very uncharacteristicly) and left me feeling oddly miserable that
I hadn't given HPL the benefit of the doubt. (Though, I'm sure I wasn't the one who left the gas on...)