Dream Journal

Interesting TV! Twin or Doppelganger?

We have a few aquariums, arranged in an L shape, and I’m taking care them. The small one (the oldest) is packed with fish and plants, like one currently in our actual kitchen. The other two are big ones savaged from the streets of Chinatown (maybe 55 gallons each) but hold only a single beloved fish each. As I go about their maintenance, I realize we’ve had them a while and at this point they’re probably underutilized. The personable pufferfish living there gets scritches as I consider what company to get him.

A few potted plants have been on automatic watering for a while, and I decide to check on them. At the base of a stem rests a big moss ball that’s somehow been watered only on top and bottom. I take care to soak the entire thing, knowing that I’m still in time to rescue the almost dirt-brown middle.

On TV, I randomly discover that SNL now has a department making short Public Service Announcements for kids. Tough subject matter, too; the one I catch is on understanding and dealing with horrible traumas from the news like genocide and death. There’s one shot in particular that really sticks out for being so well done: small plastic toy horses filmed from below in black and white. Inexpensive to make, as I also appreciate.

Idly watching a show starring Jon Hamm (as a Don Draper character) who has a twin he didn’t know about. There’s some discussion over whether the twin is a doppelganger. Intrigued, I rewind to before he found out. Karen Gillan is filling a role similar to Peggy on Mad Men, serving also as a judge/mediator. There’s such a strangely amusing dragged-out scene where Don is standing in front of a mirror where his twin is visible, but he keeps looking downward or elsewhere in the room. The tension and entire situation are so oddly surreal, and I watch having no idea if I rewound even close to the pivotal reveal.

Dream Journal

Cacophony Fair Complications

A Cacophony Society event, tents covertly set up in an elementary school playground — my elementary school, as it happens (the side parking lot where I fell on my ass rollerskating). I’m there helping John Law, Mikl Em, and others break down from the event, but there’s soo much stuff, taking soo long. All while remaining undetected.

A search ensues to find a place to safely leave 3 pet guinea pigs. Eventually I settle on a small, almost cubby-size room in a sheltered school hallway, room 17D, while I return to pack up the rest.

Sitting on a stairway watching a show as the event continues during our breakdown, a lethargically drunk Robin Williams slumps directly ahead of me. He lurches awake and insists he has to get his friend water, knocking down and shattering a glass water pitcher that happened to be in front of him. I start cleaning up the broken glass, and a very diligent 5-year-old joins me to help. Their parent then asks me to help put them to bed. The parent mentions “the sandman” needing to put sand in their eye, and I quite unstrategically ask if the kid if they know about sandman… a.k.a. boogeyman. Immediately I cringe at my mistake, but manage to still get the kid to bed.

For awhile I’m sitting watching another show (maybe put on by my friend Spy) and a guy sitting next to me informs me that my palm is covered in blood. I’ve known the whole time of course, ignoring the injury as I just don’t care, but thank him by saying “oh yeah mate” — somehow being Australian makes it both funny and apropos. But i still make to go clean it up, while dropping my blood in big wet patches on the ground.

Later, I’m positioned in front of a tall row of lockers. I’m confronted by a pair of blonde, white supremacist twins (akin to the racist teen musical duo Prussian Blue perhaps) who are trying to make me jealous. This is almost certainly on account of my rejecting them for their regressive ideology. Two guys I know they recently met brag with bluster of their heavy makeouts with the twins. With a keen eye though, I can tell that the red on the twin’s cheeks isn’t flushing, only rouge. Not makeouts, but makeup. They seem crestfallen.

I finally go to retrieve the guinea pigs from the petsitter in 17D. When I get there, though, he’s not disposed to have us open the door. It seems he just got the three guinea pigs down for a nap together in a cute little shopping bag. Smiling, I say I’m fine to come back.

Dream Journal

Strange New Apartment with Strange People

Was moving out of a place on Mission street. Went through a lost and found hamper that turned out to be filled with my own clothes. My dad was there cleaning also and put his stereo system and a bunch of CDs in his car. He drove down Mission street fast enough to spin out into a storefront made with cutouts of San Francisco.

I was in the elevator to a possible new apartment with Lynae. I had a metal cart filled with our stuff. We were headed for the eighth floor but the elevator stopped at the seventh. Not noticing, we got off, but I got back on once we realized. Lynae couldn’t get back on and I couldn’t figure out how to get the elevator buttons to scroll up to the 8th floor. My doppelgänger came onto the elevator at this time; I was unsure whether to send him away or make out with him (as I’ve always expected I might). Finally I got to the 8th floor. Our former roommates Matt and Emily might’ve been the landlords. Outsides of people’s apartment doors was decorated with knickknacks and tasteful lighting. I entered my prospective home and met the roommates who lived there. Most were very attractive 20-something girls, including a pair of twins who looked like my attractive Australian acquaintance Hemmy. One of the twins had a developmental abnormality that affected her symmetry… she had three breasts and, when she casually rolled over, I saw two assholes. I engaged in easy, free-flowing conversation with all the roommates from a ledge in their open plan home. Due to the liberated vibe I was sitting with my dick hanging out; unfortunately where I was sitting only one girl could see it and she was the least attractive to me. The apartment was decorated with colorful lace curtains and pastels, underlit beds and fancy framed art. It had a view out to the city and as I and a few of the girls watched, a van driving a trailer drove off a nearby roof. It fell a ways before veering up, as if swimming against the force of gravity.

The dream began to fall apart as I realized how dream-like it was, but I pulled an interesting trick. I pretended that I had simply blacked-out in the dream world (perhaps taken a bad pill). This worked, and I ended up back in the sexy apartment with the two-breasted twin showing me that she had gone through my art works and found one she wanted to build off of (it was a pressed plastic sheet of a skateboard wheel with the word ‘concrete’ embossed above it). We made out and it was intense, pulling each other’s hair and fervently tonguing.

Dream Journal

Peach Pie and Invisible Twin

Talking around a table, eating the new traditional pie of peaches, perhaps. There’s a strawberry blonde woman who has an invisible twin. I can’t see the twin at first but then I meet her at different points in her life, when she studied in rural Australia, and I can touch her, then imagine strongly enough that I see her.

Driving a virtual car into Manhattan…