So, it seems that everyone has been too busy to complete any new tasks (meaning: you all have lives) and I noticed that my last task is still on the newly completed task list so... I feel like a loser considering I've completed another but hey, I'm looking for a second job and then it'll be all good. Here's the scenario: when I wake up, I like having a huge balanced breakfast with such entrees as scrambled eggs, toast, a banana, sometimes yogurt and fruit and the most important factor: tea (British style of course). While I eat, I get bored. I don't get a newspaper so I go to sf0.org and see if there are any tasks that I can complete as I eat.

I tend to lucid dream, A LOT. I have an extremely active mind and so my dreams are always in color, always in 3D and there tends to be a coherent story line. Most of my fictional prose is in fact, based on my dreams. I also tend to suddenly wake up in the night and the dream I was having continues for about a minute and I see tangible apparitions. It's really scary.

Anyways, I had a pretty much epic dream last night. I seems to be a tentative lucidity, as I constantly ask myself whether it is real life that I'm experiencing or "just a dream." Does it count? Here it is:

A few friends are supposed to meet at my house in the afternoon so I start cleaning my house and get ready for them to come over. They never show up. Worried, I decide to go look for them. In the dream, they live on the border of Oakland and south Berkeley in the flats and since I've never explored the area, I was a little apprehensive. Setting the ambiance, the sky is (of course) overcast and all the buildings are a pasty gray color. I reach the house my one of my friends lives at and they're not there. Not thinking to just go back to my house, I start roaming the streets in the neighborhood.

The dream shifts and I am suddenly on a street called Steven's Creek in the area I grew up in Cupertino and the town is in absolute chaos. Like the book, "A Clockwork Orange," 20 somethings men are causing havoc in the street, assaulting women, setting buildings on fire, waiting on street corners to knife passers by. The men's clothes are all very colorful, a strange juxtaposition against the gloomy, colorless ambiance of the environment. At first, I have no idea what's going on since the men are all smiling and having a great time. Yet miraculously, I remain unnoticed.

I duck under the balcony of a coffee shop and decide to go in as it appears empty. I go in and immediately notice that I'm not alone. A man is cowering in the corner and I approach him, not afraid.
"What the hell is going on?" I ask.
"It's complete anarchy," he replies, clutching his jacket, "the government has lost control of the city and the youth have gone berserk. They seem to think that they own the city or something."
"Ok, so that's what it is." I look out the window as people run this way and that, some chasing, some running for their lives. I think this is way too real to be a dream. How could it be when
I can smell the smoke from the fires?

I then creep back to the door, trying not to be seen from the outside.
"Where are you going?" The man shouts. A passing man on the sidewalk stops and peers inside. I duck behind a chair.
"I'm going to look for my friends." I respond.
"Good luck, they're probably bleeding on the steet." I finally crouch down and push the door open.

The sounds of screams and explosions startle me as I creep through the door and in my peripheral, I notice two of my friends crouched underneath a car on their bellies. I dive under the car and huddle up close.
"You are an idiot." One of them whispers.
"What?"
"You heard me, why the hell did you come here?"
"To look for you guys." My male friend looks at me and smiles weakly,
"Thanks, but the chances of us actually surviving are looking pretty slim at this moment."
"Where do we go." I ask.
"We're heading for another friends place, it's supposedly in an untouched neighborhood." My female friend responds.
"Okay, sounds good to me." I look out onto the street and the shuffle of legs and swinging hands pass nearly inches from my car.
"This is real." I mutter.
"Of course it's real," snaps my male friend, "it's very much real."
"Okay," stammers my female friend, "on the count of three we're going to run from the car and head in that direction." She points to a mostly empty street.
"One, two..." They both spring from the car and I manage to crawl from beneath it and chase them down the street.

Bullets are flying every which way and we duck under fallen buildings, jump over totaled cars and dodge the knives and flying debris that the men are flinging. How the hell are they so good at this? I think as I stumble over almost everything in my path. We then head down a small alley and I seem to be getting further and further behind them. It's just a dream, it's just a dream. I shout, Oh god, it's not a dream, its not a fucking dream.

I see my friends dodge a few stray bullets and I fall over a metal trash can next to an obviously occupied house. As I get up, I notice an Asian woman looking at me wide eyed from the inside of the house. Fuck. I think, and I quickly duck beneath a window. I peer into the window and I see the woman looking in my direction, phone in hand and seemingly not noticing my looking in. A little boy appears from another room and the woman then quickly dials the phone. It seemed like a waste of time considering the only cops I saw were dead on the street.

I had obviously lost my friends and as I run down a different alley, I emerge to a larger street and I'm suddenly surrounded by chanting Indian women. My eyes are stunned by their colorful saris and they proceed to adorn me with garlands of yellow flowers. They smile as I pass through them, swinging little trays of incense and everything seems all right. They stroke my hair, gently push me through the group and I then find myself in a darkened room sitting at a wooden desk.

Sitting at the desk, I catch my breath and think hard, Is this real? Am I physically present in this chaos? It HAS to be real, I can feel the wood grain of the desk underneath my hands. I can smell the strong oder from the flowers, I can feel my chest heaving. I wonder where my friends are... I then know that it must stop, I need to find out if the world has changed for the worse and that I'm experiencing the end of life as I know it. This will end. And suddenly, I'm in my bed, gasping for air. But the dank walls are still present and I can still see the lamp sitting on the desk. I then close my eyes and open them, welcomed by the faint light in my room. It's 6:30 in the morning and I've escaped. Who knows if my friends ever did.