Monday, February 13, 2006

I Dreamed of a Love Story

I just had such a realistic dream that I feel that I watched a movie about somebody's life. I'm going to write down in the short few moments that I have the basic plot of the dream and when I have time, I might fill it in to make it a real story.

There was an older brother and two younger brothers. The older brother was corrupt, was into politics, and drank whisky. One younger brother was in boarding school, had longer hair, and was often made fun of by his peers, and the other was a studious child who lived with his mother. The father was a corrupt politician and had his hands in many illegal activities.

After drinking some of the older brother's whisky and loving it, I went hi-speed sledding with the girlfriend of the older brother. She was younger than him, closer to my age. We went up the mountain full speed, flew over hills, and sped up a huge mountain and went over the peak which felt like a cliff. It was exhilarating.

This took place in England. The problem is that we got lost in our adventurous ride, and then decided to walk our way back to America. On our walk, I befriended the younger brother who we took from his boarding school. On his way out, he got a closely shaved haircut and looked like a different person.

On our adventures, we ended up in Taiwan. We were all very hungry. When we went to get some food, it occurred to the younger brother that we were in Taiwan, and being politically connected to his family, he had the same biases as the other members of his family did. Disregarding the need for subtlety, he started making fun of the Taiwanese people, insulting them without reason. He told a story of how disgusting the place was that even a plane made of steel that once landed there from the US rusted from the pollution as it landed.

As we sought an escape from the country, we realized that the stretchy material of the bra could be used a to make a bungy cord. We went to a seamstress who provided us with enough material to make the bungy cord.

Immediately, the US military showed up with their guns blazing. People everywhere were getting shot at and killed. You could see the bullets flying everywhere. A group of rebel Taiwanese soldiers were hidden in the back of a truck filled with weapons. When the US soldiers opened up the doors, the rebels opened up with heavy fire and pushed back the Americans. We were caught by the Taiwanese as prisoners of war.

We were judged to be executed not by the gun, but by the sword. We were covered in a cross made from barb wire which pushed us against the ground. From the corner of our eye, we saw an execution. A man was cut into pieces in one movement by the crafty swordsman. The barb wire hurt my neck. We were informed that this was going to hurt, but that we would die shortly afterwards.

Somehow before it was our time, the Americans negotiated to have us released and we were put on a boat to return to the US. By this time, the other brother had grown up and had gone into politics. He was angry that I had stolen his brother's girlfriend. He was at the US border in a Navy boat with sirens, and when we approached, he and his navy turned us away. When we identified who we were, he instructed that they opened fire. I jumped into the water and according to the records, I died. The girl and the brother were saved and were given amnesty.

The younger brother -- the one I befriended -- grew up to be an honest statesman. He helped to fight his brothers in the corrupt governmental activities that they were involved in. After retiring from politics, he decided to go into religion and became a bishop. He often made television remarks on politics and the state of affairs according to his opinions, and people listened to what he had to say. He always walked around with his war metals and his large fur coat.

The girlfriend grew up to be a teacher of children in military school. She had always loved me and never remarried. One day after the bishop was assassinated, no doubt by one of his corrupt brothers, the girlfriend gave a commemorative speech. There were three graves -- the brother turned bishop, her own grave, and mine. As she stood by her grave, I stepped forward, now grown up myself, and I stood by mine.

Upon seeing me, she immediately recognized me for who I was. She cried in joy because she thought I had died that day by the US border on the boats. I was grown up too now. It turns out that I snuck on the Navy boat that night that they opened fire on us and entered back into the US through their vessel. I lived close to the other brother who knew of my escape and the brother kept me safe for many years under a different identity. It was only the girl who did not know of my escape because she did not keep in touch with us after that night because of the shock she experienced upon being fired upon and seeing me jump into the water and apparently being killed.

I woke up crying wondering if this really happened to someone at some point and I just experienced their story.

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