Month: March 2022

Categories
Dream Journal

Next Door, A Fancy Pool I Treat like my Own

I’ve been living in a dingy apartment that used to be a motel. One nice thing about living here is that I have a view of the large pools at the fancy place next door, and I know how to sneak in whenever I want. However, the fancy place’s new owners have started paying for updates that actually detract from the beauty and usefulness of the pool for me. I’d rather it be old and enjoyable than new-looking and ugly. One day I’m lounging against the side of the pool and realized they’ve installed speakers that play easy-listening garbage. Without waiting I reach up and break off the speaker nearest me — realizing it’s better than planning it out and appearing suspicious.

I’m hanging out near the boundary of the property where there is a waist-high fence; I’m thinking about how it will still be easy to get in whenever I want even if they start locking the tiny gate. Chris P., a Cambodian childhood friend of mine, and two of his entourage arrive through the gate. He’s some important manager or boss of the place, which makes things perhaps more complicated or perhaps easier for me. We have a brief conversation joking about whether I’m hacking the power grid of the pool, like a famous incident in the history of Bermuda. Luckily, of all the liberties I’ve taken with this overly-wealthy next door property, that isn’t one of them.

Categories
Dream Journal

Forgot the Naked Pictures in my Wallet

On a university campus of a huge wide open green, I spot a parade of Cthulhu characters emerging. I race on an intercept course so I can start shooting a video and record the beginning of the column coming into frame. This seems like a unique tradition on this campus and I think it’d be a great idea to share it.

Following after the parade, I become like a student. Not bad academically in fact; I keep quiet and perform the class activities dutifully. The group arrives at an enclosed multi-purpose space where much occurs. I take initiative to remove the plastic cover of the room’s ring of string lights and jiggle them back into position as best I can. In one corner I notice “Gavid David”, supposedly George Lucas’ self-insert character from the new Star Wars, which is a broody chicken — his wavy hair is carefully coiffed and dyed rainbow colors.

In my wallet I discover some very cool photos of a clown girl I know, Sabrina W. She’s doing handstands and performing splits, looks like she’s naked and with body paint. I’m confused at first then they jog my memory, I took these myself not long ago when we had sex — sometime during the dream chronology, in fact.

On a street I attempt to find a relative of a deceased classmate from my youth, Stephanie Sukhram, to give $20 as a token of common mourning… enough at least to buy some flowers if they wish. (Perhaps it counts toward what I owe them for that stuffed teal-and-pink shark.)

I observe part of Finland in the wintertime, where bodies are being buried by the side of a road. A man jokingly announces “that’s what happens to Finns who don’t sign the new road adjustment form”.