Categories
Dream Journal

Fleeing in Mexico Resort, New Lover at the Piss Tent

Mexico, possibly Oaxaca, but a place which appears more like the Sonoran desert south of New Mexico. Temporarily my wife and I are staying at a complex of buildings (a resort I believe) with many areas: stone gazebo, collonade, buttress balustade wall… One very distinctive moment was when I floated over a pool whose bottom appeared painted, but actually the striped layers of natural sediment giving the appearance of a topographical map — I understood that it was a very rare environment miraculously conserved here, like some kind of placid natural geyser, and I spot wriggling aquatic coral snakes very close as I pass by (I should note this to someone, as these snakes in terrestrial waters are both rare and dangerous).

There’s a smaller property tucked between larger plots which has itself set up as a single attraction theme park, a line of tropical canopied boats on a flume track which performs a circuit underground, similar to Disney’s Pirates of the Caribbean. With somewhat marvelous luck, they’ve managed to compete with the much bigger properties around them in staying relevant.

My wife and I have been storing a trailer full of our stuff here for as long as we can, left in a sandy side area where it ought to go ignored. But it happens that we discover that my wife has to hide for a little bit from government agents looking for her. The plan is for her to immediately flee for a small labyrinth tucked away in an obscure corner of the complex and marked by mean on the map — I will meet her later after casually being found by the agents while lounging amongst a balustrade wall and stalling the agents. The plan becomes less and less viable as my wife continues watching engrossing video with me instead of leaving.

I practically sneak up to an infrequently visited door I at the end of hallway, sometimes regarded as employee-only, but I’m in on the secret today. The setting seems to be a venerable San Francisco institution, a store like Paxton Gate or 826 Valencia or perhaps the Audium. In fact I’m just trying to get to the bathroom.

I find one — but oddly it feels like a bit of the dream is missing here — the scene and setting have changed. I have no entered a tent made into an ersatz public restroom, one set up for so long people almost treated like it’s perfectly normal. Inside I find a folded-over kiddie pool full of old pee, but also gloves? Not as gross as it sounds… no smell simply jarring. Earlier I had seen and interacted with a woman outside just before entering the tent. An slightly older woman, attractive and self-determined, I’m glad to meet with her approval — she pees on my exposed leg over the cesspool of gloves and things get sexy refreshingly fast. It’s nice to be with a woman who knows what she wants, and who happens to want me at the moment. I’m eating her out with lots of enjoyment when I must interrupt the adventure to take a phone call (from my dad, of all people). I have enough reserve and I’m in a good enough mood to listen fairly well… and for a long time. The woman is so patient and appreciative of my patience also. While I listen I gaze at one of my tiny rats there in the room with us, perched in the open (after having been tracked down by me in an earlier dream which I can’t quite place). By the time the proceedings resume my wife has arrived and she too eats out the women, while I move up to suck her nipples. This is a spontaneous and welcome episode of joy.

The three of us are naked in the backyard on picnic benches when our landlord, newly clean shaven, and his wife arrive. He looks like Shepard Book from Firefly or Blameless Marad from Horizon Zero Dawn. The pair of them leave but actually come back in a minute, which I find a worthwhile breach of expectation. He begins to speak, starting with something like “nine years ago you paid the foundation of…” I accidentally interrupt him by complimenting his new look, a bit embarrassing but we have such a mood today it’s hard to break out of. The interruptions happen a few times in this way. I don’t recall exactly how it may have ended, as the tensions recently with our landlord have been high, but there may have been a sour node with his wife specifically, who’s never much talked before.

Categories
Dream Journal

Nature Danger

Corey Matthews (from Boy Meets World) won’t shut up in class because his questions are too existentially important. I’m playing a drum made from a record album, a tiny gap between the drumhead and the frame. The rhythms are extra cool.


Controversy in Trump’s military as a small Navy ship, The Ensign, is ordered to the front of a convoy despite being a fairly weak ship in rough seas. It’s never seen again. Recordings of radio chatter have the ship asking for confirmation of the order, but proceeding anyways per protocol. Barely audible, a radio operater for the convoy can be heard saying “we’re not even going to announce anything?”


Coming round a riverbend, I spot one — no, a pair of huge herons, twice as tall as a man. Nature danger: a bit like being in Area X, or another Vandermeer world. Despite knowing how strange this place is, my companion (Jennifer? Who’s Jennifer?) runs chasing an allurement through a long series of doors. I chase after, but she’s gone, disappeared by mysterious menace.