Per usual, to give you a more complete feeling of why the dream may have happened – or to help you make your own interpretation of the dream, I am going to describe some of the factors of that current time:
This particular evening, I had ordered from a restaurant named Tasty Thai down on Broadway. I only order one particular item on the menu because it’s THAT damn good. The Drunken Noodle (Thai hot version…none of that pussy mild/hot shit) with chicken. Just so you know how hot it is….here’s the bathroom sign:
It seems to me that whenever I eat spicy food, Thai spices in particular…I am blessed with lucid dreaming. Knowing this, when I eat Thai food I make it a point to watch an entertaining movie just before I go to sleep. I do this so that I may be transferred to the world in which I was just being entertained. With that said, I’m a huge fan of Donnie Yen movies and pretty much anything by Stephen Chow (Kung Fu Hustle, Shaolin Soccer, Journey To The West, etc.). They have a very classic martial arts movie feel but with the technology of movies like The Matrix…and the humor of well….Stephen Chow. Slapstick, if you will. They’re outlandish in a very good way.
Another important detail to this story is that I listen to music as I sleep. Since I typically dream about things I’ve just seen or am hearing during my sleep, i like to have music playing as I slumber. The music I play has a wide range but more often than not, I’ll play music performed by attractive female artists. Makes sense right? Right. Then between the attractive female artists I’ll throw in something extreme to counter it…like Skrillex, AC/DC or Sleigh Bells. This way my dream has a chance of making a crazy turn or at least changes the pace a bit. It doesn’t always work but I think it seems to help.
———- dinner is consumed, “Journey To The West” has just been watched & I’m now sleeping ———- enter dream ———-
It’s a dark night and I feel a bit lost. It’s familiar but I don’t know my way around. Everyone is Asian…I can understand a bit of what they’re saying so I must be in Japan. I recognize it now, I’m in Ginza…why am I in Ginza?…I have no fuckin’ clue. Probably to do some shopping. Let’s get this straight…I don’t fly to Japan and visit Ginza just to go shopping on a regular basis. Remember, it’s a dream.
I’m still mad that I had to leave the box to my new pair of Chuck Taylor’s at the Westin in Arlington (this happened in real life a few days prior, I absolutely HATE not having the original box to my shoes). So shopping for shoes is on my mind which is probably why I’m dreaming I’m in Ginza shopping for stuff. I need a new pair of Royal Blue Converse so I might as well live it up while I’m here. I take a few drinks in an izakaya that served pizza…and y’all know how much I love pizza. I bought a few rounds for people and I left as quickly as i entered the establishment. I should point out that none of the customers or employees in this establishment were Japanese but they all spoke Japanese.
Apparently I was in there a while because I walked in @ night and it was already the morning when I walked out. I wasn’t tired and I still wanted to go buy some new shoes. I walked into a store that looked like Journeyz but it wasn’t a Journeyz…it was a knockoff version. After about 3 steps into the store, I spotted the shoes I wanted to buy. I grabbed them off the shelf, and proceeded to the counter to purchase them. I reached into my cargo shorts and found absolutely nothing. I panicked. I hate being broke. It wasn’t the first time and it probably wasn’t the last time. The problem was that I KNEW I had money in my account and I KNEW that I had actual cash on hand for my trip. So not only was I embarrassed but I was worried because I might’ve lost a wad of cash.
Then from behind me I hear “Don’t worry babe, I’ll buy them for you!” – It’s my girlfriend Taylor Swift. Not only does she want to buy my Converse for me but she tells me to go ahead and pick out a few more colors! FUCK YEAH! Then get this!! Before we walk out of the store, a pair of Doc Marten’s catches my eyeballs…she squeezes my hand and says, “Go ahead and get them, those will look good on you.” – Yes, I know they’ll look good on me Taylor Swift…I know.
So we’re walking around and she says, “Hey Espudo, do you have an Xbox One yet?” BOOM! Now I have an Xbox One in my hands! Then she’s says, “I want to see a movie! Will you go see a movie with me? I want to see Neighbors. My friend Zac Efron is in that movie! He’s so funny babe you totally need to meet him next time we’re in L.A.!
I’m thinking to myself, “Great…Zac Efron…great. Yeah he’s not going to make me feel fat and old and not handsome. Fucking asshole. Being all cool and stuff.” So we sit in the theatre and the movie comes on. I don’t remember much of the movie…that part is a blur. All I remember is that Taylor was REALLY into the movie and Zac Efron didn’t really look like Zac Efron. He looked mature, and had more of a Britishy way about him. He looked vaguely familiar but I couldn’t place it. All I can tell you is that I’ve seen him before and we definitely weren’t friends. As a matter of fact, I was bothered by him…and I don’t know why.
Now we’re leaving the theatre. Taylor insists on stopping by Fry’s Electronics. Yeah, I know there’s no Fry’s Electronics in Ginza but that’s where she wants to go, so in my dreams, my dream girl goes wherever she wants…plus it’s Fry’s. It’s a damn nerd's wet dream in there.
Speaking of wet dreams, I’ve never had one. I’m kind of bummed about that. Especially since I have so many beautiful women in my dreams. Digression. – We’re walking around Fry’s and I’m picking out a bunch of stuff because I’m broke and Taylor is buying. I'm totally milking it. Then all of a sudden we hear, “Hey Taylor!” from somewhere in the aisles.
That fuckin’ voice sounds so damn familiar. I don’t know who it is yet, but I KNOW I’ve heard it in my dreams before and i KNOW I don’t like that voice. That is the voice of ruin. The voice that puts all other voices to rest during my dreams. That voice has interrupted my walks with Taylor Swift (and other dream girls) in the past.
That is the same voice that showed up when Jennifer Lawrence and I were singing karaoke @ a little bar in Aspen during our winter getaway the night I watched Dumb & Dumber. Jennifer Lawrence didn’t really want to go with him, but the voice had an accent. The voice of a man with a silver tongue and lead in his heart. He’s the damn devil in my dreams.
That voice has showed up and ruined at least a dozen dinners in my dreams. That voice has only once been partially muffled in my dreams because in that dream he was stuffing his face with a pizza that I had JUST ordered. He was sitting on my couch eating the pizza right after I had tipped the delivery lady. He sat on my couch wearing leather boots and dark jeans with perfect long blonde hair. Flicking through the channels “…just looking for something good to watch mate!” followed by a, “Mate, I’m famished…how’d y’know?” – Fuck him, he’s a total fuckin’ asshole.
That voice…I know it…please don’t be him…dear Lord up above, please don’t do this to me again…
Fuck..it IS him.
The same face I saw in the movie theatre. The guy that wasn’t Zac Efron but was Zac Efron. This fuckin’ asshole…Orlando Bloom. What did I ever do to this guy? I watch all of his movies, I even think he’s a good actor…why does he do this to me? All I want is one date with Taylor Swift or Jennifer Lawrence BUT NOOOOO, Orlando Bloom has to pop up and steal the show. Sometimes he’s himself and sometimes he’s a character from one of his movies. Sometimes he’s other actors…like Zac Efron as the most recent example.
I try to politely tug Taylor Swift away to let her know that I don’t want to see the guy…but she insists that I meet him. If Taylor Swift only knew what Orlando Bloom has put me through…she wouldn’t force me to shake his hand and embrace him like a friend. For this is no friend…he surely is my foe. For the last I don't how many years now…this man has been my nemesis. He knows what he’s doing. He knows that I’m not famous, he knows that I’m not rich, he knows this is just a dream for me and that I’d never get to hold Taylor Swift’s hand through a movie and cuddle close with her. He knows that he’s charming. He also knows that he’s a fuckin’ asshole for ruining my dreams…but he seems to feed off of the anger. He loves it.
You can’t ignore him because his teeth are so straight and his hair is so shiny. He keeps saying things that are making Taylor Swift giggle, little clever British stuff. He flirts and he flirts and before I can do anything about it, he’s walking off with Taylor Swift hanging on his arm like they’ve been together for years.
In the distance I can see them walk out of the store. I chase them down because I’m hoping that Taylor was just being nice to him and got distracted by one of his British stories about Oasis or fish & chips or something. It’s not immediately known to me but when I walk outside we’re no longer in Ginza but in Hollywood. I’m not like all into Hollywood…but Orlando Bloom is a movie star so you can see how this backdrop comes into play. I notice that we’re now in The Groves and off in the distance I can see Taylor Swift walking away hand in hand with British elf boy.
Not only does Legolas walk away with my dear sweet tall lanky Taylor Swift…but he walks away with my shoes and video games! Asshole, I’m 5’7″ what the fuck do you need size 9 1/2 shoes for? Because he knows it pisses me off that’s why! I’ll tell you what he’s going to do. He’s going to put them on his dining room table and laugh about it during his next sitting of bangers & mash. That tea drinking jerk with his cool British accent and elf power slide moves on shields off the tails of dragons and stairs and all of that shit. He’s probably going to open up the boxes and get the laces ready for his appearance in my next dream…and just throw the boxes away.
I bet he’ll wear them even though they’re too small for him. Despite how much they’d squeeze his feet because he most certainly @ 5’11” wears at least a size 10 or 11 in U.S. men’s size (I Googled his height just to be sure he didn’t take them because they’d actually fit). He’ll uncomfortably wear them with that big shit eating grin of his and he’ll wear them with pride. Not like an “I waited it out and finally won this long game of Monopoly” type of pride…but a full on flaming “I’m here and I’m queer. Let’s celebrate my sexuality parade” type of pride. That flamboyant, vivid, bright ass colors you can’t get out of your head with perfect wavy hair, great smelling cologne and I have such a cool British accent type of pride. Fuck him! Legolas you stupid jerk.
I begin to fume about losing my dream lady to the archery master of Middle-Earth. As I concentrate more on how much I hate Orlando Bloom at this dreaming moment (I'm actually a fan in real life), my focus turns from behind them to in front of them. Instead of seeing them walk way…I’m now seeing them walk towards me. The closer they get, the madder I become. When I get mad and before I fight I get a very scary tunnel vision. I feel like I’m hyperventilating and the world begins to close in on me…but I can still breathe, Darkness closes around me and all I can see is them and his damn smile. “I did it again Espudo…I did it again!”.
Wherever you are Orlando Bloom, STOP IT! I know you wake up in foggy London town, London bridge is falling down from some strange dream where you again stole Taylor Swift (or some other famous blonde lady) away from some regular guy in America. STOP IT! As soon as I figure out how to get into YOUR dreams and where your dreams sleep…IT’S ON BITCH!!!