Tag: magazine

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Dream Journal

Dreams from The Long List

It seems in the dream I have a list of hundreds of short dreams. I’ve been saving them up, many on the bottom are from nights past. These are ones that happened last night, the ones that I remember at least, and I think they could probably be boiled down to bullet points.

Munich, I’m told by my wife, has the interesting quality of having no tennis courts, because none of the ground is level enough. It started out as a mining town in the Middle Ages. I retrace old trade routes through long and narrow mountain valleys. I go in and out of modernist buildings and long canals or ruts in the ground. I’m there for what feels like an entire night’s dreams, but I think I just fell back asleep after waking.

In another one, I’m entering Sarah G’s house, leaving four pennies outside the gate. Coming to apologize and make up. She had me try on a fancy blue tuxedo coat, which didn’t quite fit. But I did arrive in my nice, fancy blue velvet jacket. Charlie mentioned they didn’t know about a big TV. There’s actually two big TVs inside their house, but the one I came to see is an ancient, fuzzy CRT from the ’40s or ’50s in the garage.

Hanging out in what might be a big hotel with Angelica’s girls loafing around. One is idling, reading a magazine, looking at a plaque on the wall. Have a brief chat with her, saying how I had great times reading magazines as a kid, playfully asking if she’s come up with anything vulgar to scratch into the plaque, which endears her to me. I realize I’m playing the role of the playful adult, scoring points, even though that’s not the greatest idea to give them these ideas. The reaction is fun though. It’s my role here.

Watching two surfer/stoner dudes on LSD get on a Ferris wheel, attacked by turn-of-the-century style old Chinese men, one of them unexpectedly rises to the occasion and bites deep into his nose, possibly biting it off. I remember from some other factoid the surprising thing about the blood tasting salty, that’s why the Chinese man falls off, he spits it at his face.

Oops. Forgot to do the bullet points.

Categories
Dream Journal

Port-a-Potty Stabbing Samurai

Entering an abandoned hospital in the future where there are much fewer people. We’re here to scavenge parts, including an alarm clock block of wood. In the bathroom, I have a strange feeling of understanding: I’ll be one of the last people to know what a place like this was before the fall. In the bathroom, I imagine finding a hidden wall panel to go through a secret corridor, a way to escape the ward — the kind of fantasy someone I would have been trapped here would have, the kind that one day won’t be understood anymore.

A samurai race: one samurai leaves the starting line early, chasing the quarry into a port-a-potty. He stabs his samurai sword strongly right through the middle at first, then seems to have a moment of reflection and genre-savviness, realizing his victim would probably kneel to avoid the strike. So he then thrusts the blade diagonally down into the porta potty, likely killing the victim (who was seen to enter). It is never confirmed, though. The race was scheduled to start at dawn, but the other samurai remains asleep at the starting line. The winner hopes his opponent will not notice his cheating.

A magazine from January 2005 features a light green background. It’s eye-catching, seemingly an intentional misuse of chroma key. More to do with it that is now forgotten (I used to be better at leaving myself hints… hmm).