Wednesday 12th of March – Clown Waiters and Dynamite

I thought my zombie dreams were weird but this was just bizarre beyond belief.

The dream started with a ball room, I walked in behind a man in a tuxedo. Around the room there were clowns standing at attention against the walls, they were in a pattern purple clown, yellow clown, purple clown, yellow clown etc. There were two long tables running the length of the hall. The people that sat around these tables were all dressed for the occasion and they all stood up as the tuxedo man entered the room. They watched him as he walked down the middle of the two tables and onto the stage at the back of the hall.

He says something to the room and the clowns start to serve people food, the tuxedo man and another man begin a trapeze act over tables. I have made my way up to the balcony by this point and I over hear somebody talking about the act and how good it is that he has kept up the trapeze after the accident. I don’t know what the accident is, and I am distracted by a box on the stage.

Everyone finishes eating and the clowns begin to clear the plates and move the tables away so people can dance. People are now wearing masks and I make my way into the crowd. The tuxedo man stays on the stage watching everyone.

The doors open and military looking men walk into the room with one of the purple clowns as hostage. They demand the box from the stage and start to spread out around the room. This is when I figure out that the box has money in it. I look at the man on the stage and he seems completely composed. The hostage clown is pleading with men, I think they are terrorists. I know the clown, we are undercover together. He is the tuxedo man’s son, and I am the tuxedo man’s wife. Tuxedo man thinks we are dead, I remember the accident now. There was a fire in our house, I am horribly scarred from it.

People are managing to escape as the terrorists are start to pour petrol over the floor. I know the tuxedo man’s thoughts, he doesn’t remember the accident, he doesn’t think we are dead, he doesn’t know we exist at all.

There aren’t many people left in the room now, only the clowns me and a few people who are too scared to move. The terrorists round us up and tie us together on the stage. They light matches to set the petrol on fire. I know the mans thoughts again, the fire seems to have triggered his memory and he remember the accident, now he thinks we are dead. I grab his hand and tell him I’m here.

The terrorists are leaving with the box and I can smell something other than the fire that surrounds us. I realise that it is dynamite, it is under the stage. I kick the trap door open from the stage and see piles and piles of it.

I woke up here, so no idea if I lived or died but yeah no idea where that dream came from I looked it up in my dream diary and it pretty much said it was because I have big decisions to make that will cause a big change. I do have a lot to decide right now but I don’t really see what clowns and dynamite have to do with that…

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