I had a dream where I was standing in a parking garage, talking to a man in a suit. We were both in the United Arab Emirates at the time, and I told him I had to go back to Jordan, because I'd been in a plane crash there, and all 50 survivors had been taken hostage. I was granted only a short period of freedom.
The man expressed his condolences. I said, "Well, I knew flying over Jordan was a risk to begin with, because of the oil situation." And the man asked me why I had to go back there and become a prisoner, since I was standing right now in the United Arab Emirates. "That's a good question," I said. "I don't know why I have to go back there. In fact, I'm not even sure if I was a part of that plane crash to begin with." I thought about it some more. "In fact, I'm not sure there was even a plane crash reported in the news. Sometimes I just make things up like that, and I don't know whether they're real or not." I thought about it some more. "In fact, I don't even know if you're a real person I'm speaking to." And I looked at the man, and it was like a moment in the Twilight Zone where you realize you've been dealing with a mannequin the whole time. And suddenly the fabric of reality ripped open, and the man and the parking garage all zoomed away in a flash of light, as though it were all getting sucked into a black hole. And I fell to the ground and felt blood dripping out of my nose. As I lifted my hand to feel the blood, I thought for sure I was having some sort of seizure. Then I woke up, and realized I'd been lying in bed the whole time.