controlled randomosity?

Yes, yes I know that by now you are fed up with these things and are asking yourself, "What? Another one? Dear God, another one? Arg, why another one?" but I must insist upon it. What else am I supposed to do with dreams?
So, I was in the student lounge and had just finished reading section one of chapter one in part three of Les Miserables and I promptly fell asleep (this is not a commentary on my likings of the book, I, in fact, love it so far). Most of it as usual is not rememberable. I was in the lounge. But instead of it being empty and serene there were people in it, many people who were making noise. Talking, movement, etc. Otherwise it was the exact same thing as "reality". To prove this I *woke up* and showed myself and then re-entered dream world. Then someone came in and started to play music on their computer which I could only hear in dream world, when I awoke momentarily there was still no one in the room. This person thoug was obviousy agitating many of the people in the room as it wasn't "Sabbath music" and it was loudish. It agitated me too because I wanted solitude in the first place and at least quiet if not that. So I said, "I don't care about the faith part of this but can you please at least put on headphones so we can have quiet?" He seemed at first to be mainly confused and I made up for my rather imposing comment by saying (rather cryptically) "It's not like it matter, this is only dream world. I can wake up and be in quiet anytime" which I then did to again prove that it was possible. But then while I was in dream world I said to myself, "Ah, but what if *this* is reality and the other is the dream?" and then I "awoke" again and again found it to be empty and silent but *this* time I heard a voice and then I saw a water tower outside the building (which doesn't exist) and it became covered in trees. Then the lounge changed and someone came from outside (the only way to do so is through emergency exits) and he made some passing comment on having been doing something mundane and tossed a brown-paper bag into a trash can. But I mention this because I had suspicions that he was a terrorist bent on killing the students in the lounge. Then things took another turn. I found myself going to the Scottish line dancing thing which is on tonight but it met at a bus and we packed on to it like sardines. I was on the top floor of it as it *was* a double decker but it certainly was *not* a traditional double decker. This top floor was small as ever and felt like it was above the second story on buildings. there was barely any room for the amount of people in it and yet I had a clear view of everything. However, I started to get rather claustrophobic and frightened because the bus was going rather breakneck-fast and did not seem stable. I was afraid of what would happen if it were to tip because it felt like there was no way out of the little box I was trapped in. Anyway, a friend of mine was sitting ahead of me and somehow the seats were arranged in a slight U so the first and last seats were highest up, and, as me and this friend were in those seats, I could see him perfectly clear. At some point we passed through cars on the wrong side of traffic and it seemed as though we hit a few, but I was assured we did not. Briefly after that it was seen why cars were on the wrong side of the road; a semi had been squashed by some horrid accident and had blocked movement. We quickly rushed through the gap and continued on but about that moment my friend's head began to swell up. Swell up to about three times the normal size of a head. As one can imagine, I was concerned and went down the stairs to the lower level of the bus as best I could and called out for a dean or something. I said, "My friend's head is swelling,"
He said, "Woopee," in a decidely uninterested tone. In the end he did nothing and I was rather perturbed but as my friend's head began to shrink to a more believable size I decided I didn't have anything to demand from the person any longer and let him go without much rebuke. But I *did* attempt to kick him as he climbed back down the stairs to the lower level.
Bloody dreams. Make no sense