Tag: cat

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Dream Journal

Spork the Cat has Kittens in a Traveling Home

My Dad sits under tree. We sit together under a tree and watch a film projected on a portable screen, sharing in sadness.

Spork the cat (normally my male rat, mind you) has had kittens. She’s young and this is her first litter, and in a weird space. It’s shared with a number of people (all of whom I know in waking life), a large travelling quarantine structure. Perhaps it’s a bit like a hostel, but of people who all know each other. The gate is tall double doors like a church door, in the far corner of an open high-ceiling room, with sloping edges near the walls in a flattened “V”. The next room is an light airy bunk bed sleeping/lounging area, billowy drapes and a grid of rafters. I find a conch shell similar to my own under the blankets of an middle-aged Asian acquaintance, Dav. It has a narrower stem/tip and blows easier and louder. Childhood friend Robby T. is also in this dream, chatting lazily from his bunk with me during sunny midday.

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Letters

my friend posted about a cat hair rug

What follows is an actual Facebook reply to the above post and comment. It is, to the extent possible, 100% factual and should not be taken as satire of any sort. Reader discretion is advised.

Oh man, how do I do this? I’ve never shared it like this before.. um, ok, so in December 1978 someone made a bland, but relatable, but insidious observation, a copy of which never, ever leaves the space inside my skull. It lives in me.

Except every time there is cat hair, any cat hair (for it is the case that our thoughts of cat hair are its form in our world)… it emerges. Then again back inside, until the next time. And the next. And the next. It’s tiny, but immortal. Waiting. Listening. Silent. Ready. Until the next time. And the next.

And… I hope you can appreciate what it means if you choose to know it. I hope you can honor what it means to even allude to a presence, a presence like the one I’ve known.

An egregore.

Understand: you called to it. You spoke its words here and (in its way) it guided me to them. It sees, and wants to be seen. It calls now; it calls to you.

(How do you feel about “neutral evil” ? If you had a tumor, you’d rather it be benign, wouldn’t you? Is an idea alive, and if not, then how can it die? Do you believe today that you even know what a meme really is?)

I WASN’T EVEN ALIVE IN 1978.

Ok.

Last chance…..

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Here is a Garfield cartoon I saw as a kid. Yes.

Categories
Dream Journal

Stairway Stab Girl

Taking a ride to the airport, the doors to the bus open twice. I get out on an empty platform, embarrassed as the train speeds away. End up having to walk a long way to baggage claim, a tiny beige room in a spare building.

Girl on the landing between two stairways giving a blowjob. She has the guy stab her butt, then fuck the stab.

She then loads my dishwasher with dozens of blue glass jug vessels, careful they don’t rattle.

On the couch and there’s an orange cat in my lap. Reminds me of Flop! Rat cage is open though. It turns into two black cats, like Aloysius unfortunately. I call Lynae to come help.

My brother Patrick has his Mac break. He has to buy a new PC and is humorously says and condescending about it.

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Dream Journal

Asleep in the Cave of the Enemy

cave holes

I sneak into the cave of hostile tribe to sleep for the night, next to a burly friend who has infiltrated them. Blue marks on their face, mostly unclothed, scattered torches. I see from an opening above, the three of us lying together, each with one eye open.

Looking up some word in the dictionary in the living room of my childhood. Many pets on many chairs. I notice my old cat Flop sleeping peacefully on one, raising his head to see me, even though I know he’s dead.

There’s a babe named RevZilla, she’s got these amazing horizontal face tattoos (or makeup). Reminds me a lot of Queen Po.

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Dream Journal

Dead Cat Dream

Suddenly awakened. Was in the kitchen with Lynae, heard a sick cat’s wail from behind me. There on the doorway threshold was… I guess I expected it to be a sick Aloysius, but maybe it was Katie back from the dead. That sound, though… sounded a lot like Ginger, now that I think of it. Such a realistic sound, I thought something in the house has woken me up.

Visions afterwards were colorful distortions of living beings, like a 60s flashback warning film passed through a pastel oil bubble.

Then there’s that painting in the hallway… Dead Cat Dance.

Dead Cat Dance

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Dream Journal

Invasion of Ghost Cat

Awoken suddenly by an unusual growl… unusual because it was clearly one cat warning another, but the only cats supposedly in the house are total BFFs Aloysius and Katie. Jumping from the living room couch, I catch a glimpse of a gray furry mass speeding out the back door like a ghost. In the bright sun of the dawn, I manage to visually confirm a well-built cat with dust-bunny appearance escaping the backyard, into the neighborhood garden (just like a raccoon, too). It’s at this moment of passing danger that I realize I must have been surrounded by cats all through the night… not just Wishus and Katie, but up on the shelf, inside a wooden box, by my dear departed Flop as well. And that for a long while I’d been dreaming of him — playing youthfully and with vigor, tumbling in the pile of blankets behind that couch, watching me with curious attention. There are mere coincidences, and then there are uncannily meaningful and timely coincidences. Come visit again soon, little buddy.

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Dream Journal

Lucid Sex Close to Real Life

In classroom, sitting on chair with one leg shorter. Moving around different desks. Went on a bus field trip to a dark sinkhole. Coming back, I was dropped off in front of the Fartpartment while I hung off the back of the trailer we were all riding off. By the front door was one of my green Adidas shoes. I was markedly lucid on the walk upstairs. It was dark, nighttime. As I entered the door Lynae was on the couch and I warned her “I’m dreaming”. In the bedroom, there were two large bottles of lube. It was difficult to concentrate on assembling the lube bottle, but I managed to stick the spigot into the spout. Lynae’s butt was extra round and maybe smaller than in real life. She was wearing red or black fishnets over it, and it was daytime outside.

Fucking her felt quite natural compared to sex I’ve experienced in dreams before. I was very consciously aware that I was turning off signals from my sleeping body. I also had an awareness that I was interacting on another plane, just as legitimate as the physical one. I was grounded in my experience.

After some time, I walked through the apartment. Flop ran ahead of me and I considered trying to give him 7 tails. Walking down the back stairs, I gave up the pretense of trying to stay safe and act like this might not be a dream. I flew straight, over the neighbors garden. I couldn’t modify the flight path so I passed through.

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Dream Journal

Explanations from the Attic

Climbing through the rafters in the garage of my childhood home, above my black-and-white cat Aloysius. Explaining to my dad about the reasons people thought I was crazy, but that showed I wasn’t. Sigh.