When I was about 9, I had a dream. I don't dream anymore. AT ALL. but back then i had some fucked up dreams. the one that sticks out the most involves demonic dogs, clowns and kidnapping.

I wake up, I walk downstairs and I see my mom asleep on the couch. i go upstairs and take a piss.At this point in time i still think i'm awake. When i'm done my piss i go back downstairs, my mom is still on the couch, but now her guts are ripped open and there is this huga ass dog eating her insides. i run upstairs and there is another one. At this point i know i'm dreaming. The dog says something, 6 years of mental degradation and pot render the words incoherent. i run away, out onto the street. there are like 20 of these fucked up dogs chasing me now. then all the sudden these clowns pop up. they might not have been clowns, I can't remember... Anyways, they through me in a sack and carry me off. next thing i know im tied to some kind of totem pole at the back of a cave. Somehow i manage to slip out of the rope that binds me. i start running away. one of the clown/ demon guys jumps in front of me.

At this exact instant my mom opens my door and I click back into reality. but before this happens i go to kick the clown/demon. thus resulting in a crossover of dream and reality and me kicking my bedroom wall with more force then i had ever kicked anything before or ever will. it hurt like a mother fucker... Oh boy did it hurt...