Month: February 2025

Categories
Dream Journal

Plarvolia’s Drop

I’m visiting a friend’s house, Andi. She lives in a converted Victorian shop with tall frame windows located on a corner somewhere in San Francisco, possibly SOMA. Her roommates aren’t home but one of them is Plarvolia. I’m not terribly worried about when she gets home; I’m here to see my friend and not to have anything to do with her. I’m relaxing on a couch that has a textural quality like dried noodles, enjoying the many plants and moss that grow in the excellent indoor sunlight. Plarvolia gets home and makes an offended noise for her own companions to hear, but otherwise doesn’t bother me. Then while I’m laying on the couch looking up I see her poke her head out of a square interior window upstairs holding a few full beer bottles. She drops them on me, aiming for my face. One lands on my neck which quite hurts. I bolt upright coughing and immediately lay into her demanding to know what the fuck, lady. This appears to be exactly what she wanted. With friends behind her she plays accusatorial, accusing me of all sorts of malice just being here. I know legally I’d be totally in the right (I could’ve been seriously injured if her aim was better) but with her loyalists barking behind her I’m chased out of the building.

The look on her face when she dropped those bottles. I don’t know. It wasn’t frightening or malicious, not particularly. There was an element of enjoyment that she knew exactly what to do. But it was something else, too. I put off writing about this all day despite taking some basic notes when I woke up. She’s become something so different to me in my dreams than where she started. I still only barely know this girl, really — mostly through old tweets way back when. What am I supposed to do with this character, this representation, who is so willing to harm me for a moment of her inconvenience? Is avoiding her at all costs really the best I can hope? I don’t *want* to hope for anything else. I certainly didn’t in this dream. Her face was the face of someone who I thought I could love, now become the face of someone who clearly hates me. Wtf, lady… who are you anyways?

Categories
Dream Journal

Mail then Train, Old Movie, New Kitchen

Waiting at a curb with tickets to board a mail truck. Down the block are two more spots with a few people besides us who are taking this route. I decide at the last moment to walk to the earlier stop, thinking it’ll be more convenient for the postal driver.

Once we board, inside is a quote of a few paragraphs praising our friends Don and Tracy. I don’t notice the transition at all but we’re then riding a train. The train makes a stop and stays stopped. I then need to wake up my friend Mickey on the bunk above. Don’t know how long the transfer is, but it feels long.

Sorting petals of different shapes and colors while Tracy charismatically makes an announcement over the train’s intercom. The petals relate to a remake of a movie that is happening soon, where everyone on the train gets to pick a petal and that’s their assigned section of the movie. The original was regarded as boring and unrealistic when it was first released. I observe a close-up logo of a screen showing a still image of a stock camcorder in someone’s pocket, which was once the default image on product packaging — this somehow illustrates how little effort the movie went to. It became a classic in time though, and everyone on this train has come here for this process. This certainly makes it more stressful for me when I keep dropping petals on the floor. Thankfully Tracy has done a good job of stalling and managing expectations.

Unpacking in our new kitchen, many boxes to sort. My wife thinks she can’t help. She finds a task talking with our neighbors and spends her time that way.

Categories
Dream Journal

Inside A Toy Megastructure

An area for therapy goats up an indoor slope. I’d love to have my own goat. I spend awhile on this dim disused space of low ceilings then eventually continue. Odd that I can’t tell if it’s familiar or my first time exploring. I peer out from a high window from within this megastructure I’m inside, a highly decorated windowframe that feels like a toy, between metal bars and through open shutters.

Down in a flat area, a courtyard or entrance of grayish square-paneled floor and walls. Overly modernist, open architecture with no right angles. New dog brought back, Charlie. The name feels like a take on Henry (our first pet rat).

Helping Grandma to use a strange socket with her oddly shaped flat fork-like plug. Shes using a Amtrak navigation module connected with it, something I simultaneously don’t want to deal with but which I’m also curious about.

Cache of papers — don’t know what they were about. They were there. (Later this day, I’ll find a folder of important documents for something I’ve been meaning to sell which got soaked, and I’ll have to dry all of them.)

Near a big house, a complex really, I’m walking through winding garden paths of rosemary. I want to use the kitchen I know of which is attached to the main building. I have cum on my right hand so I only touch anything with my left — like the doorknob. The kitchen is large but cozy, in a French style, laid out so that you can browse book titles on the shelf across from the built-in toilet. The raised bathroom annex is there as a convenience for chefs’ long cooking sessions. The bathroom is really why I came. For a good while I somehow don’t notice a short, older French woman whom I know standing near the middle of the kitchen, naked and almost prepped to step into the shower. I make apologetic to her and resign myself to not using the bathroom here.

While working near it’s aquarium, I hear one of the two new tropical fish flop out the back of the tank. I immediately have to start moving things under the bookshelf with the goal of retrieving it. I don’t know if I manage it…

The night’s dreams were saved by casual and repeated reviewing, less arduous than I’ve had to work at in times past. I know I missed parts though, and I know I took too long to finalize. Nevertheless I managed to actually save them, which has been difficult to pull together recently. The technique is always a practice.