Bob Dylan Wants To Kill Me

So, I've been back in Korea for a month and some change now. In that time, I have begun to have the same type of vivid, strange dreams I had been having last year when I first got here. I'm starting to think that it's not because of a sudden, drastic change in my living environment, but of a seasonal change in me...or the weather or something, I dunno. Maybe it's a nice little nightly postcard from Fukushima. Too soon?

Anyway, these dreams have ranged the whole spectrum of human emotion from slapstick comedy to romance to heartbreak to experiencing whatever my brain perceives is the sensation of death. Last night I had a dream that was somewhat tongue-in-cheek. I dreamt that Bob Dylan wanted to kill me. No, not the young, snarling, Like A Rolling Stone Bob Dylan, but the decrepid, nefarious, Dick Dastardly-esque Bob Dylan.

Oh, sorry, wrong picture.

MUTTLEYYYYYYY!!!!

So, Bob Dylan is trying to kill me for whatever reason (in fact, I don't remember if there was one), and someone in the dream had the clairvoyance to inform me that Bobby was planning to pay me a visit to take me to the cleaners. So, it is dark and I am living in a random cabin reminiscent of the one I spent the first seven years of my life in, and I see a black van pull up in the yard. I duck and hide because for some reason I'm afraid of Bob Dylan. I mean maybe he's got a gun, I don't know. Of course, it is a false alarm for dramatic effect.

Then another black van pulls up in dream time 5 minutes later or whatever. Same routine, I hide below the window sill line. Suddenly, I see this brick with a note rubber banded to it sail toward my window in what I thought was slow motion. Turns out, Bobby just threw it so softly that it just bounced off the window screen and then high-tailed it out of there, I guess in embarrassment. I never got to read the letter. I was hoping it would be a valid explanation of his Christian rock phase.