Documentation Dreamland: Documentation

By patrick on Monday, July 2, 2001 - 11:35 am:

    Whirly party time gather….single malt familiarity, half known faces in other lives. What are you how are you, can I get to the bathroom please. Looking to nico for the All Is Calm nod, tips of the chin, smile….”go play Im fine ” as if to say. Her smile, about to crush 25+ hearts. Im not sure who you are and where I am , but Im here. Lounging, long tag floral dress. Looking to the tree tops, “is there more wine?”, “a little warm…but at least there is wine”. Fancy you here…come see the wife pinching arteries, see her being infallible with grace. See her there, hello baby, meet. Sing swirl, embrace I’ve known you for forty years….lips tickle, and words flow out like gracious hugs from long lost lovers, only you’ve never met them. It just IS, what happens just is. Returning to wine and nonsensical “pardon me”s "excuse me"s bathroom departures and ice cube waltzes. Its so great to see you here. There are people here whom I don’t know, but whatever happens, I, We, are not leaving your side of the field. Kissing lips, and chatterbox throats white noise, kiss again and again. Lips so small and so devastating. The subtle whip of tongues lash fierce storms on remote regions of the planet. Feel your head start to loosen its screws, “underwear is an institution” she says, or so I thought, glancing, gleaming, her legs just fell that way. More kisses and warm doe arms around my neck…MY GOD!!! Wifelove come here and feel this, its too unreal. Opening up, Im in trouble now head job, down. Let them play board games. Hair trickle hips, cock-curvy lip…its 4 am, and I need wine. The bodies sip coke…stellar three creatures still impure with spirits. The night is SOO late, I can believe the HAS and certainly the HASN’T, and I still feel arm neck doe legs around me and in my hair and a soft a tongue repeatedly destroying banana boat villages..lips of the familiar and new over and over and over and over.

    The text above is as accurate as possible. Dream recreation approximately 1 hour and a half after waking. The above dream involved a sorabjite whose name will not be mentioned. Its was a fairly moving dream, sorabjite or not. It was, without a doubt a sex dream, though no actual sex took place.

    Document your next dream, within two hours of waking, Any dream but a particular one that has you slightly amused, confused, titillated or otherwise touched well after waking. Document it as soon as possible. What comes out?

By Nate on Tuesday, July 3, 2001 - 09:59 am:

    i woke up 40 minutes ago.

    i'm not nate now, but an earlier nate. a feeling, a head-state that isn't now. i'm in my parent's old house, the one i had my early years. my old room is almost entirely consumed by a queen bed. i had just had sex with some young, pretty, cheerleader type. someone i'm used to having sex with. i go to seduce another, someone new. perhaps she is a virgin? a mormon? i don't know.

    i get her back to the room. her clothes come off. i say wait, we'll have a threesome. i go get the first girl. come back into my room, mormon girl has her clothes back on. she's leaving. i settle down to fuck the first girl.

    door swings open. huge black guy comes in with mormon girl. he's angry, tells me that i fucked up. mormon girl starts going through drawers, collecting folders and folders of my papers. drawings and stories, only copies of things i've done over the years. my childhood? i try to stop her but the big guy grabs my wrist and sits me down. his fists are as big as my head. they leave with my stuff.

    i go after them. my parents are in the front room. i ask them how they could let that guy in? he's your brother, my mom says, how can we keep him out? i start yelling at my mom about the papers and how i'll never have these things i did. how those were the only copies. my dad gets up. he has a look i've only seen once before, when i was yelling at my mom as a young teen and he threw me up against a wall. he yells at me about how this is all my own goddamn fault and i shouldn't be fucking around with young girls' minds.

    which, of course, he's right.

    i wake.

    like patty's, a sex dream with no sex. sex either happened previous to start of dream or was interupted. story of my dream life. never gotten laid in a dream. never had a wet dream. fok.

By Spider on Tuesday, July 3, 2001 - 10:33 am:

    Woke up about 5-6 hours ago. Sorry, Patrick.

    I was in college again. The campus didn't look like the way it does in reality. Something about driving along the curve of the road where Montgomery Ave. and East-West Hwy. meet - the building was there. Strange class. Strange building. Half of it was haunted. That half was separated from the non-haunted part by a glass wall. The lights were off in the haunted part, but you could kind of see into it. The glass wall completely bisected the building. There were two escalators in the building, one on either side of the glass wall. The class and I went up the 'safe' escalator, which was very slow. I was terrified of seeing something on the haunted escalator, and I did my best not to look at it. I said "Our Fathers" over and over again, and I grew more and more afraid the longer I was on the escalator. Either I or someone else got their toe stuck under the moving stairs.

    There was more, but I can't remember now.

    I woke up at 4:45 and had to get up for a while. I was too afraid to get back into bed. (My roommate's gone on holiday, and I'm alone in my apartment.) Around 5 I went back to bed, but I didn't sleep very well. I didn't want to lay on my back because I was afraid of having one of those sleep-paralysis attacks where you hallucinate someone sitting on your chest.

By patrick on Tuesday, July 3, 2001 - 11:31 am:

    thats ok rhiannon. i, nor my representatives are exact sciences. thanks for playing guys.

By SPider on Tuesday, July 3, 2001 - 11:57 am:

    That should be Our Fathers or "Our Father"s, but you got the idea.

    I've had a lot more vivid dreams in the past week, but I don't feel like writing them out.

By patrick on Tuesday, July 3, 2001 - 12:13 pm:

    that little error had no effect on the story spider...and needed no clarification.

By Spider on Tuesday, July 3, 2001 - 12:33 pm:

    I know. I just like to correct my mistakes when I find them. Comma mistakes are not included - I use commas indiscriminately when I write here.

    It is so cold in this office! (I hope it stays cool for tomorrow. Ann-o and I are going into the city for the fireworks tomorrow night. That should be neat.)

By Nate on Tuesday, July 3, 2001 - 01:18 pm:

    bullshit. you do not know cold office. a-ha. fuckyducky.

By pez on Tuesday, July 3, 2001 - 01:38 pm:

    half an hour.

    had a friend to stay for a couple days. a sorabjite, but the face slowly morphed into that of an old friend in youth symphony over the course of the dream.

    we tour pdx. visiting indie shops and listening to music. rollerskates, skateboards roughntumble fun. then we go to the schnitz.

    the oregon symphony is playing an interactive concert and dr. john (retired principal tuba) is there handing out instruments to the audience. drumsticks, licorice whips and trumpets. i want a trumpet because i can't play drums yet and i'd just eat the licorice, but he knows already that i play flute and hands me licorice. in the next seat, my friend gets a trumpet.

    and it's fun. afterwards we wander backstage, the familiar maze of concrete passages, hardwood floors and crimson velvet curtains. we get lost, then find the way out. we wander our way down the street, doing a half dance on our way to the max. we kiss and there's no surprise.

    get back to my house, late late late. i grab sheets and blankets and pillows and we rush downstairs to make the bed hiding in the sofa.

    the sofa is gone. dad yells: "so stupid, so stupid! i dismantled the sofa months upon months ago!" cry a little bit. no longer the perfect hostess, dry tears and grab a couple of thick foam matressess normally used for camping and make those into a bed.

    "time for sleep" i announce to my friend. i don't want to go upstairs. stay and watchsleep or interfere.

By Spider on Tuesday, July 3, 2001 - 01:38 pm:

    I have goose bumps on my arms. Look, at home, my thermostat is set at 65. I sleep in a long-sleeved shirt and a quilt. I like cold. This office is too cold for me, which makes it about 55-60 degrees in here. That's objectively cold. So there.

By Nate on Tuesday, July 3, 2001 - 02:01 pm:

    i work in a meat locker. i know cold. you don't know jack.

By Jack on Tuesday, July 3, 2001 - 02:09 pm:

    i dont know her.

By Spider on Tuesday, July 3, 2001 - 02:26 pm:

    I don't believe you. Either of you.

By wisper on Tuesday, July 3, 2001 - 02:31 pm:

    there was a haunted house, and i was terrifed of it, it was on a hill surrounded by trees and there were picnikers all around it. I would not look in the windows, i would not look into the house but i think there was people inside having a tea party. Tea party, tea party...alice, something about alice in wonderland or my alice or both or was I Alice? I don’t know. I was wearing clothes that i liked, clothes i don’t own but would only have in a dream. I remember that i was wearing something like ‘power clothes’ like how Usagi turns into sailormoon and she gets the power uniform. I had my power uniform i think. There was a sign in front of the building, it was small 3x5 ish and purple and on one of those street sign steel polls it said something like "This House Has Been Classified
    Level: THREE FIVE
    Possibly Psychic Haunted"
    (then the town by-law numbers…) I remember thinking how typical it was for a town to put up such a small sterile cowardly warning sign. The house WAS haunted though, totally, i could feel it. For some reason i became part of this militia ghost hunter group of 5 people who were going to go exorcise the house, and i didn’t understand how i could have been dragged into this but they kept telling me that i had an exceptionally strong mind and wouldn’t let the ghosts fuck with me, no matter how scared i was. They also said i had to go in first. This was all very organized, we had a map and a plan and everything. So i went in and the spirits were being the wicked witch of the west from Oz and was trying to hurt me but i was okay because i had my super power clothes, right? There were the two little girls having tea (a la the Shining) and they sent a kitten to attack me because they knew i couldn’t hurt a cat. But i calmed the demon kitten and walked out of the house with it. They said i had done my job. Then my mom (?) was the next one who had to go in, and i was scared for her because i knew the spirits would try to hurt her or scare her but the group reassured me that she was the same as me and she could take it. So very shortly after she came back out and i asked her what the ghosts had done to her and she didn’t want to talk about it, it just had something to do with her breathing and asthma and she got out okay. They said the spirits were weakening. Then some blonde cocky-ish guy went in. Now the house was no longer on the wooded hill but in the middle of some busy party street in the middle of Marti Gras. There were drunk kids on spring break running around asking me dumb questions as i was trying to help with the ghosts. The Oz witch kept using the windows to scare us and threaten us but it didn’t bother me anymore. There was something about the Little Mermaid in there too. I dunno. Then this tour bus came out and this drunk fucktard got out and said he was mad at me because i was his girlfriend and i had been cheating on him with C. Wtf? I tried to explain to him, i couldn’t make sense if i had actually been dating this guy or if he was full of shit. I felt bad so i tried to stay clear of him but he was chasing me and i’m trying to explain that i’m working on an exorcism here.

By wisper on Tuesday, July 3, 2001 - 02:35 pm:

    that dream was SO pertinent as to what is going on in my life right now, it's scary.

By pez on Tuesday, July 3, 2001 - 04:57 pm:

    i think i was benjamin in my dream. i felt like a boy, anyway.

By semillama on Wednesday, July 4, 2001 - 09:09 am:

    I was in some huge junk store that was in an old manor house. I remember looking at clothes and furtniture. Then I was out driving with someone and we kept missing this exit. That's all I remember.

By TBone on Wednesday, July 4, 2001 - 12:26 pm:

    I was a middle-aged woman having a painless heart
    attack. Once my heart stopped, it felt pretty
    weird for a couple seconds, then I woke up.

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