Another bizzare dream last night.

This time I was a ridiculously helpless boy in a place that seemed a curiously smooth blend of Mexico (or one of the Spanish speaking South American countries) and Singapore. Guess our architecture isn’t THAT all that disparate after all.

But anyway, after being chased by gangsters all around a place that seemed like the YCK area, we (me, two Spanish guys who were protecting me, and a small boy. wtf indeed.) were taking refuge in the corridors of HDB-block like buildings. Then I looked over at the next block and saw that the assassins were joined by this friend of ours (another wtf-is-he Spanish guy) and were preparing to attack. We made a hasty escape but somehow I got caught by one of the assassins who was about to slash me with his huge knife (that reminded me of the one the Mayor gave to Faith) when one of my protectors appeared and buffy-threw a knife into his heart. I took the Faith-knife and tried running away but weirdly I just couldn’t run properly; had no control over my legs and felt very very drunk. I kept brandishing my knife at anyone who walked near me because I felt insecure and threatened as an out-of-place Chink in a Spanish nation. Just as another brute was about to appear to threaten me… someone called my hp and I woke up.

So moral of the story? Learn your spanish.