Last night, I dreamed I fought zombies in the backyard of my old home place. I was killing them left and right with a sling blade that some strange person had given me. And, then one of the zombies' blood spilled on me and I became one. Why do things that are going good sometimes go bad? I wish I knew the answer to that. Suddenly, this feels like a Bob Dylan song. All I know is there were these zombies in my backyard and I had a sling blade and I was killing them and then I became one. After I turned into a zombie I woke up. I guess zombies don't dream. There were a couple of other people who were helping me kill the zombies. I don't know who they were or how they got there. All I know is I am glad they helped. Killing zombies is hard work. My pastor says dreams like this happen when I eat too much pizza before I go to bed, but have you ever dreamed you fought zombies with a sling blade in your back yard and then became a zombie? It was downright creepy.
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