I had an odd dream this morning before I woke up. I dreamt that I was in an alternate universe. I was skinny. I was working for my father and he was some sort of New York CEO. I accidentally walked in on him and his boy toy (I need to make a note here: real life my Dad is happily married to a woman and secure in his heterosexuality.) This alternate reality Dad looked like my Dad but wasn't my dad on the inside. He was someone else, I knew it at the time. He was wearing some sort of smoking jacket and smoking a cigar. I hated him instantly. I didn't catch them in a compromised position or anything like that, you just knew based on how they looked at each other what the situation was. The boy toy was tall, exceedingly tall, thin, effeminate, and sneering. I was serving some sort of clerical function.
For some important reason, I came to the conclusion that I had to kill this boy. They were doing something heinous to the employees, some ecological disaster situation, and I took it upon myself to protect the company. I found it necessary. I lured him into a conversation when we were alone to discuss matters of business. I made sure that we were on camera. I said something inflammatory intended to get a violent response. I stepped back he lunged forward (according to my plan) and I choked him to death with my bare hands. I felt his adams apple crush beneath my fingers.
When my Father asked me why I had killed his 'advisor', I told him that, 'He lunged at me.' I was calm, composure held completely. My Father fired me of course, because he couldn't let a scandal like murder in his company, get out, it might cost them money. I couldn't care less.
When I told the police what had happened, the first phone call I made was to my brother.
My brother told me not to worry about it. In this alternate universe, motorcyclists can make a living charging batteries driving around. They buy these little side cars that carry the battery. I spend the rest of my days riding a motorcycle
Did I mention, I don't have normal dreams.
My dreams have nothing to do with real life.
But, then isn't that what dreams are about?
I haven't wanted to kill anybody in real life since I was in junior high, and I never really considered it then. I'm not the killing type.