My Subconscious, Paradise to Some, Hell to Others

I had one of those really long run-on dreams this morning, and it was crazy as fuck...

I remember driving around in some downtown somewhere that I think for some reason was supposed to be (in my mind) some zany combination of Chicago, Lincoln and San Francisco, but located in stormy Kansas. And then later, me and Eric and some random girl (but we knew her) were hanging out on some structure in a park that was covered in some cushy layer on top. And we looked over at some crazy building about half a mile away that was designed to look like some completely unsafe version of the Leaning Tower of Pisa, except only after a certain floor did it start to get crooked, and by the time you were at the top, it looked like "Well fuck, THAT ain't good".

So apparently this tower was apartments. Crazy, leaning apartments.

And I looked at one of the windows towards the top that would have been on the side that is angled DOWN, rendering the window completely unsafe to be near. And some idiot sticks his head out and waves to people...and of course leans too far and goes falling out the window.

But he has wings.

Not real wings, just some crazy wings he made and strapped to his body for just such an accident. And his fall slows, so that just before hitting the ground, he swoops upwards and climbs into the sky above us.....

...impossibly fucking high. In fact, after he reaches a certain point, his velocity INCREASES as he makes his way to the Moon.

Ten seconds later, he comes plummeting from the atmosphere and lands right by us, but he's safe because of the cushioning we're on. I don't know why his wings stopped working.

Then, somehow, I end up in some cabin near a lake on the outskirts of this crazy town, with not only all the Lord of the Rings characters, but also all these people who are supposed to be from other TIMES and other WORLDS, that have somehow become connected to Lord of the Rings. And Michael Clarke Duncan is there, too. God knows why.

We're having some party to defy all these fucking tornadoes that are everywhere, especially on the lake. BIG fucking twisters. And I go into a room, and Sir Ian McKellan is there, but not in his Gandalf outfit - it's like he's one of the people from a different time/world but is connected to the Gandalf-Ian outside. But apparently, I have some nickname for him, like "Old Codger" or something dumb like that.

So I go outside and people are gloriously celebrating their defiance of these huge fucking tornadoes just outside. And little tornadoes (like five-foot things) are somehow sneaking into the house and causing messes. But this whole defiance party apparently has something to do with God and his promise to these people, it's like we're seriously celebrating Exodus or something.

Anyway, that's my dream. Yup.