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Dream Journal

Best One Before the Knife Dance

Sword swinging event. I get all my practice in beforehand and I’m home of the best dancers. At the last minute though I find a scimitar and curved dagger on a shelf and switch to those. I possess a lot of knives, it turns out. During the actual event I just need to pee, and I spend most of my time in a corner trying to get my underwear on. Before I know it, it’s over and they’re doing the ceremonial awards. I know I failed and never actually did the mock combat dance, but everyone watched me enthusiastically swinging around beforehand — I was the best one, before it counted. So I don’t get an award. Instead the host passive-aggressively tries to get me to sing along to a famous song I did by playing it without the lyrics (not sure if matters, but this was a Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan song). I refuse to song along for free and hover haughtily above a fence.

Categories
Dream Journal

The Raven’s Nest Platform

While I’m injured and recovering in a wheelchair, I create many new designs in a sketchbook with fine quality paper. I’ve filled it up almost entirely — something I couldn’t do in the past under normal circumstances. I’m the kind of person who would habitually save the nice paper for something really special.

At the top of a tower which I’ve climbed I set up a raven’s nest, placed with some other charming little objects (plants and the like). I build one then another, as I consider there’s room for two on the little square platform. I don’t recall the view but it surveyed a large area.

I escort my dad to a bathroom I happen to know is open, as I’m knowledgeable like that. It’s located within this big enclosed space, somewhere near the end of the universe, where nothing is ever complete (at one of the ends/corners of the universe at least). Above us is an even larger and grander upper section walled off by a single huge curved panel of tinted glass (that futuristic 1970s houseware aesthetic). Instead of going through the bathroom door I choose to pee in a trough on the two-way path outside. Passersby see me peeing, but I’m obscuring my crotch with an object and bouncing the urine stream off of it.

A bookcase, the bottom shelf of it, broken into three indeterminate book-like items. I determine that one of the smaller blocks of these can be remagnetized. This should restore it to whatever it was. Perhaps this is the reason these were placed here?


It’s been more difficult to remember my dreams lately (I’m going through one of those cycles). I’ve been talking Undlela Ziimlophe a.k.a. Silene capensis to try to reboot a little. It was a long process while waking up trying to remember these, beginning while I was still asleep — I tried to remember key images as words, bookcase, notebook, raven’s nest. Then I would try to get those back as I noticed myself in another stage of wakefulness. I didn’t really know at the time if this had a good chance of success, but self-evidently it did. Nevertheless I might’ve left some behind. This current cycle feels almost like the opposite end of lucidity… at least I’m getting good sleep.