I had a really weird dream last night.  I fell asleep watching Batman (the Tim Burton Michael Keaton one), so that might explain some of it somehow.

I am locked up in a one person hospital room.  There is a man hooked up into to a whole bunch of machines in there with me.  If he’s not in a coma he’s definitely hurt bad or unresponsive.  That wasn’t my doing though.  I seem to think one of two things, or both at different points in the dream.  He’s either a) a person that killed my parents, or b) he is my father.  I remember both of those from during my dream, but it was always the same person in the hospital bed.

Two security men show up outside of the door.  I don’t remember knocking them out, but I do remember opening the door and taking their guns and extra clips.  I go back inside the room, lock the door behind me, and start doing some research on a laptop computer in the room.  The tv in the room is showing a news station, the story was about some crime in the same city I am in, but it doesn’t seem to be related to me, or the man in the hospital bed.

Eventually police arrive outside the door.  They don’t announce themselves, but I know they are there.  I open the door and walk right up to two of them and take their guns out of their holsters along with extra clips, and take a third gun off of an unconcious officer on the ground.  Its weird because the hallway is filled with police officers (or swat or some sort of law agency) but no one is stopping me.  No one is even moving.  Its not that they are frozen, I remember actually looking into the eyes of one of the officers as took his gun, his eyes were following me, but he didn’t move at all.  I head back into the room and lock the door.

Inside the room I decide to look at the man again.  He’s definitely not awake.  At this point I don’t even care about him, like I barely know who he is.  I sit down and decide to reload all of the guns.  They don’t fire bullets.  All of the clips are actually rolls of quarters.  Its not as they are toy guns, but they’re meant to stun as opposed to kill apparently.  As I fiddle with them I come to realize I have not idea how to reload them, so I decide to look it up on the internet (still have my laptop).  It was fairly easy to find the information, the guns all had the serial IP 804A on them (weird that I remember that, google IP 804A now and top listing is a site for office chairs).  The guns can apparently fire all sort of things, wads of paper, buckshot, quarters, marbles, bullets, and more.  I stick with loading in the quarters.

At this  point the tv is showing an image of the hospital I’m in, but it is on mute and I can’t tell what it is saying.  I look to the door and see something coming in under the door.  It was a giant tray of food.  I hadn’t asked for food, I haven’t even talked to the police yet, but there it is.  There is a note, but I have no real recollection of what it says.  Under the note is a newspaper though.  I pick it up and it is a Catholic paper all about how suicide, murder, and hostage taking is wrong.  Its not a pamphlet though, it is a series of articles written by different reporters.  I find myself strangely fascinated by it, and read for a while (I don’t find myself agreeing with it, or laughing at it, or even having an opinion about it… just that I enjoyed reading it).  Now I can hear some of the officers outside the door.  They seem to be in good spirits and someone is laughing.  I don’t seem to be swayed by this at all.  I’m not angry, not upset, not happy either.  I just am in this situation.

And then I wake….