A little morning psychosis....

Arise you workers from your slumber!
All you wage-slaves, everyone.
The Revolution comes like thunder,
And the age of hypocrisy is done.
Turn off their televised illusion
Stand up and look them in the eyes.
Declare your mental liberation;
Shake off the dust, and claim the prize.

So comrades, come rally.
And the last fight let us face.
The Internationale unites the human race.


I had a weird night and a weird day. I had a series of dreams, all uncomfortable.

Dream 1:
- My German teacher returned from her two-week vacation with a surprise exam for us; turns out we were supposed to have self-taught ourselves a third of the course while she was away. I was reduced to tears and ran from the room.

Dream 2:
- Al Pacino was chasing Angelina Jolie because she was evil. He was also evil, but fighting on the good side for whatever reason. The only scene I remember is when Pacino is chasing Jolie through a massive swamp with obstacles built into it. Pacino was able to kill her, but then the screen reset and I was trying to get to her before Pacino did. So there I was, swimming in a swamp with a shotgun that looked plastic, anticipating when she would surface for air. There was platform in the water and she pulled herself up on that, but I was already there. I tried to shoot her, but I had forgotten to set the gun, because I'm not a gun person. She called out for her killer dog to come get me, and then I was able to shoot her. Because I am not a gun person, my little plastic gun just went "Click" and her head flopped over. She was "dead".

Then I had to shoot her killer dog, which was really incompetent. It was slow, and it had lost its teeth. Still, it was supposed to get me, so I "shot it" with my plastic shotgun as well. Then my thoughts turned to Al Pacino, who was surely going to kill me for getting to his mark before he did. Fortunately, Pacino had turned into Patrick Stewart dressed like Picard from First Contact, and he congratulated me on bringing her to justice.


Dream 3:
- For some reason I snuck my parents' chihuahua Charlie into my dorm room. I realized in the dream that this was a really bad idea, because that chihuahua hates being alone and will howl at the door if he thinks he's been deserted. Someone would definitely hear. In the dream, I was outside with some friends watching a soccer game and we saw the police escorting someone out of the building, and someone said "Is that Karl Marx?". For some reason I was under the impression that the dog had a human form and that his name in human form was Karl Marx. I really don't understand this part of the dream.

I left the game in a panic to see if they had gotten Charlie/Marx, but they hadn't. He was hiding, only now he looked like Charles Darwin. I knew I had to get him to safety, so we left. I apparantly had a sportscar. We eventually wrecked -- or rather, the car was run off the road and upside down. Then, as if I was living in the world of Grand Theft Auto, the car exploded. I think it killed Charlie/Marx/Darwin. To make matters worse, my schoolbooks had been in the car when it went up in a fireball. All I was left with was a DVD on the genetics of sex.
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After that strange series of dreams, I was in a strange mood this morning. I felt paranoid, as if I had done something wrong. I was also very tired, which is not surprising given my activities while I was sleeping. Swimming through a swamp with a shotgun is tiring work, you know. There were a number of instances this morning that made me paranoid:
- when I was crossing the street, a car had to stop and wait for me because my legs accidently moved an inch, thus giving him a reason to think that I was going to try to walk across the street. Rather than playing the "You move - I move" game, he stopped and waited while I walked across.
- when I went to breakfast, the machine checks our mealcards was malfunctioning, and I started thinking I had been removed.
- when I was getting my food, the cafeteria lady told me to stop pointing to things and start talking to her, because I often complement my requests with hand gestures. This morning my requests must've been too quiet.
- when I was walking to my table with my food, a piece of bacon fell off of my plate. I felt bad about this for some reason. It's not as if I wanted the bacon, it just seemed a crime to let food randomly fall from my table. What, was I incapable of walking from point A to point B without losing things?

Very strange. After eating and reading a Carl Sagan biography, though, I felt much better. OFf to class now.