All I can remember from this dream was a little dog with the head of a walrus with its big teeth broken and jagged running through my house. I tried to avoid it as well as I could, but I ended up taking pictures of it and as it stood and posed face to face with me, I looked at the picture that resulted and it was now a beautiful girl. Then I wandered outside my grandpa's house which was not at all what I remember it as only to find the neighbor's dog jump over the fence and attack it. In a comical "Why didn't he just..." we stood for several moments until I picked the dog up by putting my arm in its awaiting jaws and tossing it back over. Gosh, my hatred for dogs must run deep.

The next day...

I rode my bike along the freeway's edge when I came to an overpass occupied by three little troll-like children dressed like the kids from South Park but with much deeper voices. They also covered their eyes and I caught a glimpse of their swollen bugeyes as I rode under the road to a walkway on the other side where I noticed many of the people looked the same. My objective, I inherently knew, was to whack all the people with orange-red hair who all happened to look like one guy if they were male and one girl if they were female. It wasn't until later that I figured out there were slight variations in their appearance and I wasn't supposed to hit them all, but avoid them as I zigzagged through the ever-densifying crowd. Eventually I made it to an elevator where people were waiting eagerly to get to their jobs. I thought I could look important by brushing past the crowd and pushing the button to go to the top floor, but after I pressed it, I realized that was only the button to signal that there was an emergency. I promptly fled the scene on my bicycle.

Somewhere along the road between apartment complexes, I joined a race, possibly even a marathon judging by how tired these participants looked, but there were resting at a stoplight, waiting for the cars to go by. On the other side of the street, we could see two big dogs and one extra-large dog mulling in the grass near an apartment building where the groundskeeper was tending the lawn with his hose. We crossed but were soon cornered by the side of the building by the roving dogs and ended up standing in front of the groundskeeper, but he continued spraying his hose as if we weren't there. He sprayed me and two others in the face and we just looked at each other in confusion.

We tried to continue the race, but as we rounded the corner to the front of the building, the dogs were there again and pushed us into one of the building's units. Two women waited inside for us, possibly the owners of the dogs, but since the dogs were so vicious and seemed to act on their own, it might be them who belong to the dogs. They started out with brutal their brutal demands: "Sit there! Don't move!" It felt like one of those classic bank heist hostage situations, at least the versions we see on the television.

And just like on TV, we slowly wore away their resistance and one of them broke down in tears lamenting that she just watched her daughter die from a bump on the head. I wanted to send her a text message telling her how sorry I am for her loss, but I just couldn't type the words correctly. Besides, that would just be silly and inconsiderate. Instead, I ended up on the floor next to her, holding her hand, and doing my best to console her. I felt an immediate connection as my mind received images of her daughter throughout her life from a baby, to a toddler with her messy, curly hair and goofy grin, to her as a burgeoning pre-tween with glasses and straight hair receiving an award with her ever-proud mother standing beside her. It was a classic case of a child fulfilling the childhood that the parent was never able to experience. But these weren't sad moments; they were all full of joy and gratitude. I can only imagine what sorts of images I was projecting to this woman.

Eventually, the women relinquished their grasp on our free will and let us freely move about, even leave, but the dogs were still actively roaming outside. Just to check, we opened the door and one of the dogs burst through the door and pounced on me. I felt an intense pain as he bit my finger, but I soon got used to it. All he did was pop it without leaving any marks, though I'm conflicted now as to whether there was malice behind it. The dog leaped back outside and we were left to figure out our next move. We left the door open and could see one of them sitting and licking itself (is itself a portmanteau of its and self or a compound word of its and elf?), so we decided to seize the opportunity and pounce of him. However, we chose me to carry out the task because of my proximity to the door, so I slowly crawled out the door and jumped on the dog. Now the task of occupying the other dogs was up to the other captives.

I was jogging around my apartment complex (although no one in Sweden calls them apartment complexes) and as I was coming around a curve, I saw a phone carelessly discarded on the side of the road. There were many other joggers out so I wasn't able to stop easily and examine it so I turned off the road and continued running through the grass. It looked just like my phone which is strange because you can usually only get it in the U.S. That must mean someone else is here who has decent taste, except taste in phones does not usually mean much.

I turned around and saw some people looking at it, trying to figure out who's it was. They were people I knew from Arizona; what were they doing here? After struggling to turn it on, they found a video, rather well made on a phone, which I full-screened in my mind. The video showed two girls on a bunk bed just waking up, and I recognized both. I can't remember who the first was, but the other was from Michigan and was actually quite funny. As they ran off, I caught a glimpse of the camera person; I almost bumped into while looking at the phone though I didn't recognize her. In the kitchen, the narrator took over: Instead of a cake, they used a shaved child with a peculiar birthmark. They showed a baby with a red marking on the side of its head resembling a birthday cake. How cute. But I was disinterested and awoke to the sounds of my roommate(s) snoring.

Last night was rather disastrous. My roommate and his friend were both snoring off beat from each other creating a rather constant cacophony. Maybe it could've been a nice song if it weren't so piercing. Anyway, I ended up putting my bulky, uncomfortable headphones on and listening to music. Luckily, I was able to snag a few hours of sleep and my dreams were just as erratic.

First, I remember stepping off a bus and watching a television commercial. It might've been for some sort of debt relieve but the main spokesman kept taking a bat to some windows. They then showed his main office and I realized that a prominent senator's field office was located in the same building, just around the corner. It was also the place where my mom worked. She was a night crossing guard (that's weird). So I quickly head over there to find my mom and I notice an abandoned restaurant (probably a Bennigan's) that some punk kids had been breaking the windows up. I was surprised they hadn't broken them earlier, but we soon realized it was probably that crazy guy from TV with his baseball bat. Then I saw shadow of a crazy serial killer pointing a gun at us, and I turn to look at him, but rather than stick around, I decided to wake up.

After I finally got back to sleep, I had a short dream in which I was swimming around looking for a good place to fish. I was equipped with a vacuum that I kept casting out to see if I could get any fish (the vacuum doesn't suck up water, I guess). I was amazed that I could stay in the water for so long without getting attacked by fish, but then I started to see the silhouettes of many fish swim near me. Then my vacuum hose got caught, likely a large fish playing tug-of-war with me. So I woke up instead of dealing with that bully (technically I was the bully anyway).

Then another short dream that consisted of a television program that was exploring the border lands of the United States and this particular episode focused on Alaska's border with Canada. After one take, Karen Borta, some news reporter with a name similar to border, ran up to us and explained how it took her almost six minutes to run from some part of the border far away to find us. She crazy.

Back at my house, I started on a trek around the neighborhood by first walking between the two houses across the alley from my backyard. The previous owners were back and all grown up and I noticed the placement of their cars. I continued my walk and made it back to my block where a man in heavy machinery stopped me because they were doing some construction. He wouldn't even let me run under the backhoe as it lifted up. Come on, I have good timing from playing lots of video games. He then showed me his two kids (different ethnicities, that dog) and I realized he was my neighbor who just came back. Then I found myself being pushed in a cart by him and his two daughters singing Korean children's songs.

A friend of mine sensed my deep troubles and posted some links on Facebook for me. They were to Flash applications detailing mysteries of ancient civilizations such as the Egyptians, Mayans, etc. You were supposed to go from page to page learning all about them, but I discovered a secret game in which you find hidden objects in the background. My score kept rising and rising and soon I broke the all-time record. I found another secret game in which I controlled a bird flying across a landscape swooping down into the water to catch some fruit. I wasn't so good at that one.