Holy Guacamole, haven't had time to blog for weeks now, but I can finally get around to sharing a dream at least. Please, take some time to grab a cup of coffee and settle yourself in, because I have long, vivid dreams (or so I've been told).

It all starts with me, hanging out with a girl, who is dressed in some pretty elegant attire, considering the setting of my dream. That being said, I suppose The best place to start might be describing the setting. It's (for lack of a better term) shitty. Almost every building in sight has been reduced to heaps of metal and glass, broken, twisted, and morose. Those buildings which are not ruins, are perhaps even more dreary; probably at least 30 stories each, only a handful of wall-less sky scrapers are left to tower over the undead city. (No, no actual undead zombies, just a zombie-esque city). Only floors/ and ceilings and a few support beams make up the framework of each buildings, with the exterior walls all laying in mountains of broken concrete around the base of each building. In fact, the only walls still in tact are those surrounding the stairwell, and a those of a few fortunate rooms, which have managed to keep their structural integrity. There are several places in which even the floor/ceilings are breaking, which leaves large ramp-like slabs hanging down between floors.It's cloudy, and rains constantly (like London, or Seattle) but there is no thunder or lightning to provide excitement or stimulation for anyone surveying the scene. The Sky is grey. The buildings are grey. the people's clothes are grey.
But this girl's clothes are not grey. She's wearing a black dress, ordained with black sequens, and small beads of various metallic colors (small as in Indian bead work small). It looks a lot like a cocktail dress. She's 19 or 20 I'd say, and she's really a nice enough girl, but not too deep, just crazy good looking. Her dad is a well-to-do Persian looking fellow, dressed in a dark grey suit, with a dark blue paisley tie. Nice looking salt and pepper beard by the way. (Keep in mind, well-to-do in this dream means your room looks like a crappy apartment, with all the wall paper peeling, but the fact that it has four walls is a status symbol equivalent to owning a house where everything is marble inlaid with gold). So this hefty Persian man likes me quite a bit, and wants to help me out; make me a successful guy or what have you. I even have a room with three walls and a door; it;s only missing the wall facing out towards the nothingness that has become everything. (yes, i realize that line was lame). So this guy thinks I'm an asset to him in some way, so he invites me up to a loft type area (guarded by men in army clothes for some reason) and this place looks really nice, minus the no walls part. it has a balcony type deal in the middle of the room (dream logic). Anyway, before he gets there, his daughter (the girl with the dress) starts being a bit promiscuous, and he walks in while she is dancing, and he gets mad and has me exiled from the building.
Somehow I manage to walk from that city to a new one, without really walking anywhere (again, dream logic), and I'm three quarters of the way up this stair well (only thing I remember from the stairwell), and I see these army dressed mob lackies evicting a poor asian family from their room with walls, so that their boss can take it. Bummer, I suppose. Anyway, by this time, I've gone from wearing a nice button up shirt and tie, to wearing a big thick grey tweed jacket, and a grey hoodie, and some hobo gloves, also dark grey.  I realize that I look a bit like Clive Owen from the movie "Children of Men". So I reach the top floor of this sky scraper, and its drizzling as usual, and I feel all of these drops dripping on my exposed left cheek while i'm trying to lay down on this big slab of concrete that fell down from the roof, and I finally realize just how cold and foggy it really is, and I think to myself, "holy shit, I have to live in this frigid, damp, terrible shit for the rest of my life." So I decide instead to rally the troops (the other miserable tenants of the top floor) and try to start a fire. Unfortunately it's too wet out, and nobody has had a lighter in years anyway, so that was useless. So I resolved to try to think of some other plan after I got some sleep, and my dream ended with me looking down at my shoes, and seeing this dreary, lifeless city out of the corner of my eye thinking, "maybe I can make it a little bit better tomorrow..."

Clive Owen in "Children of Men"