Commuter turbo prop plane, aisle seat.
Obama is the pilot.
Suddenly realize the plane is too big for a commuter plane, about as big as an Airbus...
We take off. The plane crashes back into the ground head on. We are not hurt, did not even felt/heard the crash. It is as if the plane did not even move. I ask the passanger next to me- "How about the pilot?"
"He got killed" he answers in a flat tone without any emotion.

Later i dreamed i kept finding money on the street but it was worthless.

Tangential: I have this story about lucid dreaming I have been dicking around with for years. I always wanted to find a new way to write dreams.

Anyone have ideas?

Most dreams I read in books (almost all in fact) do not "feel" like a dream. They feel like what an author would like to use a dream as for narrative thrust. Or they feel overtly symbolic in a way that is heavy handed.

But none of them really feel like they have that dream logic, that surreal scape, that presence of actually being there, of it being real.

I cannot remember what i dreamed last night. it had to do with...

No, it's gone.