Last night's dream found me getting involved with a crush i've had for a while... this probably could have filled an entire dream, but in this case was merely the beginning of a truly bizarre series of events.
After staying the night at said crush's place, I went to an A's game. Home plate, and the batter's box, was up in the stands, and a woman next to me was ecstatically cheering on one of the players, Milton Bradley (i think that's an actual player). He called time, stepped from the box, and looked around for the source of the incredibly loud, screechy noise, looking enraged. He marched toward the woman, and i stood up next to her to try and help him understand that she was cheering for him. I failed, or he didn't care, or something else, and he punched her really hard in the stomach.
I took him into custody, citizen's arrest style, and marched him out of the park and to a sheriff.
End of weird part 1, segue to weird part 2:
The sheriff and i (why am i with him? i have no idea) arrive at Milton's house, only instead of being a big baseball player dude, it's the guy who plays Sylar, and he's threatening to do himself harm... until i show concern for him, when both he and the sheriff start canoodling and carrying on. It turns out, they're boyfriends, and the tell me how i'm done for. So i take off, and bicycle away, as they throw spinny-blade things which i dodge on my way out... down through some streets and bikepaths/greenways i remember from Portland. My recollection of the dream ends with me trying to get past a big group of little kids on bikes who are having a great time, and seem creepily oblivious to the peril i flee.
I woke up with the familiar feeling of dread that always comes when i reflect on ceasing to exist, because that seemed to be where the dream was headed... children are oblivious to this (at least, most of them are) and seem much happier for it. The fruit of knowledge totally sucks.