A Rather Odd Dream

Before starting I'd like to give a little background of the dream. Me and my family have moved to Pennsylvania for next few months. We have an apartment here. The whole place still looks like a jumbled up mess because Tunie won't let me wave wand and give it a proper look. Ok, so lets get going with the dream...

Petunia and I were straightening up the apartment because we heard news that apartment community inspectors were coming to check for damage and other things. Amidst our hurry, we did not even notice that they walked in the door without knocking. I said my hello and offered to show them my room first. Tunie walked into her room to finish cleaning. The inspectors and I walked into my room which is double the size of my actual room. Half the room looked almost like mine, but the other half was full of semi-dilapidated piles of boxes. Upon seeing this, I informed the inspectors that we were cleaning out the basement. I walked down the stairs to show them. The basement was about 150 feet long and 30 feet wide and was unfinished. Pipes were exposed and support columns littered the space.

After walking part way into the basement, I realized the inspectors did not accompany me. I took a step back to return upstairs when I realized a barely visible door on the opposite wall of the basement. The door was shaped like any common door, but the color of it blended perfectly into the wall and the seams were so flush that one would suspect the door was painted on. Without hesitation, I opened the door to reveal a small music hall. The room was extremely well lit which showed the stark contrast between the white walls and the hot pink upholstered chairs and carpet. At the front of the hall was a round stage adorned with a few music stands. As I walked closer to the stage, some young musicians walked in through doors on either side of the stage. They were carrying music sheets and setting up for a performance. One girl with brown hair and a pink sweatshirt noticed me and asked if I was performing. I replied that I was not and she welcomed me to take a look around the other music halls while I was there. Everyone seemed friendly, but busy with setting up so I walked through the door to my right (left of the stage).

This door revealed another music hall. This one was extremely large; nearly three times the size of the past one. The walls were covered in dark wood, the long rectangular stage was pure white and the seats and carpet again were hot pink. I couldn’t help but noticed that the room seemed to be placed bizarrely in relation to the past room. It seemed as though it were set on an angle; as if one were placing square blocks in a circle. No one else entered this room so I jogged to the door on the opposite side. I opened the door and peeked in. There before me was another music hall. This one had slightly less brilliant white walls, a low wooden stage and hot pink carpet and chairs. Upon seeing this room, my hypothesis that the rooms were set in a circle was concluded. The angle was just abnormal.

Instead of continuing my travel through the circle of rooms, I decided to exit out of the mess. There was a door in the large room at the very stop of the inclined seating. I ran up the stairs in the center of the seats and opened the dark wooden door. In front of me was my basement just as I had left it. I walked back into the space and was immediately confronted by a green bullfrog. Odd, I do not own a pet toad or a bullfrog; I actually dislike frogs very much. Upon studying the frog, two more walked up to me from opposite ends of the basement. One was blue Poision Dart Frog and one a darker brown color. Bewildered began to walk toward the steps upstairs so I could inform Petunia of the frog infestation. As I took my first step, the first frog said, “Did you like the music halls?” I halted and looked peculiarly at it. Did it just talk to me? “Yes, did you like them?” the blue frog asked in a higher pitched voice. “Umm, yes, they were nice,” I replied. “You like to sing don’t you?” stated the bullfrog. I did a half nod, sure singing was fun, but I sing to my enjoyment, its not my profession. “Would you like to be our beloved alto? To sing for us every day in the music halls with a full audience? Can’t you picture it?” said the bullfrog. Not even thinking about the question I simply asked, “Why are all the halls hot pink?” The bullfrog chuckled, “Well well, you cannot get everything you want in life. Don’t you hate the color hot pink?” How in the world did the frog know I hated the color hot pink? Maybe since he was a frog and was part of the things I detested? So I can be famous, but only if I am everlastingly surrounded by things I hate? “Yes, you can spend this life and the next singing to your delight,” proclaimed the bullfrog. Were the musicians in the halls doing the same thing? I had interest in singing but didn't wish to be famous in this way, why would this frog think I would want to sing with them for eternity? I gave the bullfrog an odd side glance and stepped between him and the blue one and jaunted upstairs. The three frogs stayed in the dark basement staring at the steps.


*please note that the only thing I had before bed was Anti-allergy Potions.


Just a picture of a blue Poison Dart.