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I might be sick, so there is a reality as to why I just couldn't wake up. Not even for dinner.
However my dreams? They were <******** amazing.

Dream starts off. American military special operations. There is a speedboat of heavily armed soldiers speeding through a bayou, and additionally, a helicopter following them close behind in the sky (I'm in said helicopter). It is implied that the American government is in the process of falling to communist control. The communists have slowly been eating away at our defenses to the point where they can now reach the American public, and have decided to also destroy all weapons that the general public may have access to, namely guns. This special operation consists of retrieving and saving such guns from a store in the rural south, where the communists may not have reached yet. We're almost there.
But oh s**t, because turns out we're being chased. We make some excellent turns, and a beautiful action sequence follows, but we ultimately lose the speedboat to the communist attackers. Now they're on our tail. We speed towards our target building, now in sight. They fire at the tail of the helicopter and eventually something catches fire, so we end up spinning out of control. We crash into the building.
I'm mildly injured and my armor is on fire so I have to take some of it off. I decide to glance around the store: ugh. It's one of those ridiculous mega stores. It's a combination of like a sears on the right and groceries on the left. I check the helicopter for lives, and find one guy. I tell him to retrieve the guns and I'll look for stashes on the left part of this building. He agrees. I run off, and 10 minutes later I hear screaming and gun shots. The communists must have found us.
I try to hide, knowing that I have no escape route at the current moment. Oddly enough no one else in the store is phased by either the crash or gun shots. I run past the produce section and hear a curious, "Ellie?," but I keep running. I try to pretend that it was my imagination who heard the voice, and I end up hiding in the pet section of the store. I find a ginormous bag of dry dog food, open it up, and climb in. Then I hear my cell phone buzz. Who the <********> could this be? Holy s**t, it's the guy I used to like. Holy s**t, he's in the store. That's who called my name. I text him back and we end up talking even after I get out of the situation. I tell him that I'm leaving to return to New York. He won't come with me but tells me that he hopes we meet again. I'm all, "okay". Seriously ******** that guy though.

Anyways, drunken stupors abound, and I find myself in a small bar. My mind is finally clear. It feels like the attack in the south was forever ago. Why did i survive? What is my purpose? I don't like my thoughts, so I decide to order another drink. I order sangria and the bartender lets me try them first, both red and white. The girl next to me gives me a funny look, and when I order red and the bartender turns around to make it, I grab her shirt in my fist. "Don't you dare say anything about my age," I tell her. She looks timid and is already shaking. She quivers, "But you're n-not 21...," ugh. Typical. But...holy s**t. What's that in the corner of the bar? Do I hear them speaking french? I look out of the bar windows and see signs written in French, all the buildings are of the small-brick style of rural western France.
I assume that is where I must be. However this girl is American. "Where are you from?" I ask her. She responds that she is from Wisconsin, so I tell her that in France the drinking age is 18 and they aren't strict at all about underaged drinking. She reluctantly keeps her mouth shut as I almost chug my drink. When the bartender is again not looking, I walk out of the bar, assuming that I don't have money to pay for it.
The girl chases after me. Apparently she is lost and needs a place to stay. I don't have the heart to tell her to get lost, and quite frankly I could use some sober company, so I tell her that she can come along with me. We end up sleeping in an abandoned commercial space a few blocks from the bar.
When we wake up, we go to a cafe, steal some coffee, and walk around attempting to survey our location. That night we need another place to stay, and incidentally walk into a hippie happening. They tell us to stay with them, and they can tell that I am hurting. I fall asleep accidentally, finally feeling at peace. When I wake up I see a bunch of nude models doing some pretty weird s**t. Some of them are laying on the floor, some of them are standing still wearing "x"s...just...just what the ********. Photos are being taken. I ask the head woman what the ******** is going on and one of the models replies, "art". I turn around in aggression only to see that it is my ex who has said such a thing. I grunt in defeat and leave. I need to get the ******** out of here.
I end up living in France for the next 2 years, before I finally get a call back from the guy in America. He needs to get out, America is now communist-controlled. I tell him that he can live with me. We make arrangements and unwillingly get married. We have kids and work well together but there is no love, only survival. I am happy with my success but always feel empty because of the past. So many people lost that I could have saved, and my children will now live in the bleakest of futures.


The storyline to this dream ends here because I woke up, but it was so vivid and colorful that I couldn't help but write it out. I'm in one of those moods where real life depresses you because it so much less eventful than your dreams. I checked my phone and no one has tried to talk to me since this morning (which is unusual in the first place but...) I was kinda hoping that the guy would have talked to me. My dreams leave me with weird connections that never actually occurred. I think I'm just going to go back to bed.

TL;DR 9 hour dream occurs. America is losing to communist control. I'm in the army to retrieve weapons from the south. Everyone dies on the mission except me. End up running into the guy I used to like. Mysteriously end up in France. I'm an alcoholic. Run into hippies who are into body art. My ex is there. Leave disgusted. End up marrying the guy I used to like but am not in love. Feel empty. Wake up to a state of depression because of my dream and how cool it was and how unwanted I feel in real life in this very moment. (However untrue that statement may be)

And...no Call of Duty for you for a month

I never actually was big into CoD. The plot of this dream sprouted from my current studies in AP United States History, where we are discussing the Cold War as of right now. lol

1. we're not yet done with the unit
2. there were more than four

However let me see...I would argue that those 4 factors would be:

-the invention of the hydrogen bomb (on both sides, particularly the USSR in 1949)
-the spread of communism
-The Marshall Plan
-Rejection of the goal of isolationism (from military and foreign conflicts) and adoption of a policy where a permanent and ever-ready military and more importantly, navy and air-force would exist. (Therefor threatening the status of the USSR at the time)

I would label anything else a consequence of these four things. (Such as suspicion, the red crisis, the hollywood ordeals, et cetera)

You're correct there is more then four factors,Well done spotting and commenting on that.

Your interpretation heavily disturbs me since I don't see any of that at all. For the record, anything I've begun with any of the aforementioned guys I ended before I started something new. Sorry if my updates came off as jumbled and confusing, but I'm not hopping back and forth between guys. lol
There'll be periods where there's a lot of flirting and maybe a date or two and then we'll decide to discontinue it mutually. I thought I actually liked the "American guy" though (in reality) for a while there and maybe wanted something more because of how he treated me and our sporadic history. I always assumed he was just in it for sex so I made it very blatant that was my goal as well, however he continued to talk to me a lot (aka just a lot of mixed messages).Then one day he just stopped talking to me altogether, which hurt, but I assumed it was for the best because it reminded me of what everyone else says of him. So I'll be fine.
On another note, I'm trying to break the mentality of being a "relationship girl". Everyone I knew could only remember me being in a relationship, and for a while guys stayed away from me because they thought I would only want more relationships. Which really isn't the case right now. So I suppose I'm trying a bit to break that image.

God damn I'm just the opposite of you. Can't pass math for the life of me.