The Joy of Flying

I had a dream last night that I could fly… Okay, I know I don’t usually talk about these sort of things. TES is a place for humor, not a place for Freudian psychedelic mumbo jumbo. So bear with me, as I indulge in this one little guilty pleasure:

I dreamed that I was a bird and that I was flying high over all the cities and cars and people. The sky was my domain. I could go wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted. It was truly wonderful. You can’t even imagine how exhilarating flying is. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. We humans really don’t know what we’re missing. And no, airplane travel doesn’t even come close. Being able to flap your wings and soar up to the heavens is easily one of the greatest purest delights that exists on this planet. Trust me.

Anyways, I was a bird flying up above, searching for worms popping their heads out of the ground and fishes jumping out of the water. After I caught sight of this juicy plump little lizard, I decided to swoop in. I had been busy flying all day and singing my heart out to these really hot “chicks”, who were chattering away on a power line so I had worked up quite an appetite.

That’s when the problems started. I had entered into a nose-dive to catch the lizard when all of a sudden I transformed into a person again. Now I don’t know if you’ve ever seen somebody falling head first out of the sky, but I assure you that it’s not a pretty sight. In those last moments, I prayed to Jesus, Buddha, Vishnu, Apollo and whatever other deities I could think of to come save me. Stupid lizard! I only wanted something to eat.

Then, right as I was about to hit the ground, I woke up sweating and panting with a strange desire to eat a Philly cheesesteak.

If you have any thoughts on what this dream might mean, please leave a comment below.

– Carlos de la Gringa



Filed under Carlos de la Gringa, Random Musing

3 responses to “The Joy of Flying

  1. Leonardo

    Quit eating fat before going to sleep!

  2. That’s Carlos alright, eating fat all the time… Be glad you don’t have to smell his farts.

  3. Pingback: Rambling at 4 AM | Tales of Extraordinary Sanity

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