Forbidden Fruit

Forbidden Fruit

Dream Description:
In this dream, I kept eating rotten fruit for breakfast even though I knew I had fresh fruit in the kitchen.  I found the rotten fruit in my laundry, and I remembered how I had bought it like two months ago.  It tasted really good even though it was rotten, so I just kept eating it.

I was also on facebook, and I kept posting this as my status:

“March is kind of like Jesus.  They both have that Lion/Lamb thing going on.”

I posted it about sixteen times.


ANALYSIS:
On the surface, this dream is about religion.  At first glance, it is easy to see that the laundry fruit is just like the forbidden fruit from the Garden of Eden story.  I am obviously encroached upon by sinful behaviors such as forgetting to do my laundry and forgetting to do the dishes—and basically just being a disgusting man.

From a more thorough analysis, however, it is clear that this dream signifies that dinosaurs from outer space exist.  And they are on facebook.  And they will have a war with zombies in the year 2017.  And it will be awesome.

That’s actually the dream I wish I’d had.

Also, at the Second Coming, Jesus will not be riding a white horse, but a white dinosaur—probably a t-rex, possibly a velociraptor.

So this dream is really more of a prophecy than an insight into the human subconscious.


THIS TOO:
I wrote this poem right when I woke up, with my dreams fresh on my mind.  I just wrote whatever came to my head.  I didn’t try to make it good.  I didn’t try to make it anything.  I didn’t edit it at all.  It just is what it is.  Not serious, not real, just there.  I hope you enjoy it:

When I sleep with the fruit by my bed
I have diamonds like belief in my head
And the fruit grows to be twice its size
When I reach for it, know I’m alive

No one else in the world could be mad
When they see how I’m loved by my dad
Or when they bite into rotten fruit
I know I have a brain that I use

Rotten fruit like a sickness in my cup
With the worms and disease fill me up
Like a sin that you touch for just once
By your bed, keep it there for to love

Just like Eve in her garden of Dreams
I have traded the bright, heavy Green
For the wrong and distracted obscene
For the fruit that I eat by my bed
Is the rotting disease in my head
Eat it up, fill my cup by the tree
Satan is looking up right at me
Then my arm falls asleep, and it’s back to reality.

That’s my poem that I wrote when I was high on dreaming.