First and foremost: If someone is yelling urgently “Everybody get down! GET DOWN!” Please, immediately duck to the floor. This entry really isn’t anything but to explain a dream I had this morning, just before noon. Yes, I’d been having trouble sleeping again – just a lot on my mind, I guess. I finally managed to slip into unconsciousness around dawn … In any case, the dream I had just before noon was rather Evangelion-esque. I don’t know why I had a dream like this, I mean, I haven’t watched Evangelion in maybe two years. But in any case, here goes my explanation. (If you don’t get some of the references, don’t feel bad. There’s someone out there who hasn’t seen it yet, either.) In dream world, it was overcast, and our world was under attack by supernatural creatures. I’m not really sure what they were. But I was a pilot of an Eva-like suit along with four others. We all wore body suits that doubled as armor – mine was grey and teal-blue. We were stationed in this building in a large, grey city. And whatever our enemy was, was sending in their mass army – everything our enemy had, they were sending it. The earliest thing I remember is one of the pilots – a petite girl with red hair – returning and immediately going to suit up. All of us just stared at her in disbelief because, well, she was dead. Or rather, she was supposed to be dead. We’d seen her body, she’d been buried – and there she was suiting up before us. A bit surreal. Of course, it’s at realizing this, that I go lucid in my dream – at least a little bit. I was to understand that, though not the leader, I was “the best pilot” … better with strategies and tactics than the others. I remember something about a countdown, and the Big Bad saying that they would destroy everything, all the people – who knew nothing about what was going on; the main populace was clueless as a large creature – I can only describe it as a creature – came stomping through the city. They said something about starting first with the low flying aircraft if someone wasn’t sent out to fight them. Then, outside the building, there’s a large, Predator-esque figure with a machine gun – right outside our base’s window … apparently our base was hidden within some public building. There were people just walking on by, clueless, as this monster aims its gun at the window. I yell as I grab an innocent and push her to the ground, covering her, “Everybody get down! GET DOWN! Don’t you understand me? GET DOWN!” I got a bunch of stupid stares from these people. Some of them understand, and immediately duck to the floor. I grabbed another person who didn’t and just continued to yell for everyone to get down. The monster starts firing, following the perimeter of this large, rectangular window. “GET DOWN!” I scream, but these people get shot up. There’s blood everywhere. And this one woman with shoulder-length brown hair and a beige outfit, turns to me, her head filled with bullet holes, face pale, blood trickling with eyes wide. She says, barely audible, afraid, “Why does it hurt? I don’t understand …” And then fell to the floor, dead. … I’ll come back to this. We were then warned by the Big Bad that we had until 6:15 to send out our best warriors or they would start attacking low-flying aircraft. All those innocent, unsuspecting people … It was 6:13. (I’ll also come back to this.) One of the other pilots – a guy about my age, a little taller, light-brown hair, side-burns, white blouse – starts to run out of the place. I start yelling at him to stop. I’m calling out his name – I can’t remember it now. I did when I woke up, but now I can’t recall. But I was screaming at him to come back because he wasn’t wearing his armor. I remember seeing him stop just outside the door, turning to look at the Predator-esque monster. I took off then, running toward my battle suit – I was going to help him. I was worried that I was too late. I remember running … and then I woke up. Rather exciting dream, I thought. Different than the ones I had been having. Getting back to the 6:13 thing … I may be Buddhist, but I’m actually fairly superstitious about some things … the time of 6:13 is one of them. You know how there’s that old superstition about looking at a clock when it reads “3:33” or “5:55” or something like that? It’s supposed to be lucky or mean that someone’s thinking about you or … something. Well, anyway, any time I look at a clock and it says “6:13” … well … bad things tend to happen. I’ll have a bad day, or I’ll get not-so-good news or an unhappy phone call … just something will happen within the 24 hours of seeing 6:13 on a clock. The fact that the other pilot ran out of the building at 6:13 has me worried that he didn’t survive the stand-out. I mean, I know he did it, to show that someone was willing to fight so that the innocent would not be needlessly slain … very noble, but sad. And for the woman … what she said. “Why does it hurt? I don’t understand.” I have a lot of theories – one of them being that if you are seriously hurt in your dream, and are lucid, it will carry over into real life, depending on the nature of the injury. (Yes, there is a more long-winded and detailed explanation of this theory, but this entry is already long enough. I’ll just have to get to it another time.) My guess? This woman became lucid as she was being shot. Nevertheless, it was a haunting, parting image. I hope she’s not really dead. Would make a good addition to the Nightmare Project, however …