I waited to share it (it actually did happen this past Monday night ... well, more likely Tuesday morning), because I didn't in any way want to take the spotlight away from Dr. King. It may have been fueled by the combination of extreme sugar and extreme exhaustion (I increased the intake so as to pack in a craze) coupled with the post I did Monday night in the midst of all that excitement where I remembered the chicken boxes we used for storage when I was younger ... but it was a unique one, and I'm open to anyone's ideas as to what it all meant.
First things first ... it started with me riding in a car that my bio-dads was driving and I was anxiously watching as he kept on falling asleep and driving through the red lights. The third time, a cop pulled out and was right behind us, but then passed us to chase someone else. Then he saw an old friend and pulled up beside him (unrecognizable to me ... one of those random characters in dreams supplied by central casting, so to speak), and then he cut off the engine, rolled down the window and started talking to the person, with his foot out of the door pushing the car along (Flintstones style). He looked at me and said, "that's my boy" and then the scene transitioned (as is done so easily in dreams).
Suddenly we were at the chicken plant that he used to manage (well, kind of ... it wasn't the exact layout that I actually do remember but was a dream created set piece). As happens in dreams, we also were suddenly much much younger ... and it seemed to me like I was Charlie ... Charlie and the Chicken Factory ... and my dad was, for reasons unclear, a hippie artistic type with flowing long hair (a look he never once had in his life) ... he was the chicken artiste making a triumphant return to his plant.
There was a parade down the assembly line, and I followed along all childlike, even getting a hug from him at one point (that was also a "look" he never once had in his life). He eventually disappeared and I explored the location, eventually finding his old office/chicken workshop. In it were hanging two pictures of his muses ... one was my mother ... and the other one I couldn't see ... it was like I was looking at it but it was hidden from my view. Behind the workshop were a bunch of people sitting around in a break room. Here the mood was more somber, and one older lady pulled me aside and told me, as if she were sharing the secret of life itself ... "He hurts people because he loves people."
And then, my favorite part ... there were two large rabbits in the room ... and one of them stretched over to me, nuzzled the soda can in my hand like he was sniffing it, and said (yes, they were talking rabbits ... but not cartoons ... live action talking rabbits) ... "Oh goody ... he's got Sprite."
After which, I woke up .... and immediately grabbed the pen and pad by the bed to write everything down because it was such a bizarre experience. Any takers? Any ideas as to what it meant? Or was it just too much sugar (I had been cutting back for the last few months, so it may have been like an acid trip for my overactive imaginative often times too creative brain)?
Either way ... my takeaways ... rabbits like Sprite ... there was a secret woman in my dad's past (hard to believe in light of all the not-so-secret women involved in his many marriages) ... and that, perhaps, in some twisted way ... to love is to hurt is to love.
AN EXPLANATION FOR THE RABBIT:
http://www.auntyflo.com/dream-dictionary/rabbit-or-hare-dream
I WOULD HAVE SO EXPECTED COKE TO BE PRODUCT PLACED INTO MY DREAM:
http://www.coca-colacompany.com/brands/sprite/
COME TO THINK OF IT, THERE WAS A CHICKEN IN WONKA'S FACTORY:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Zail7Gdqro
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