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wolven7Last night I dreamed about some kind of massive party, held by Adult Swim, it was, at first, a PR event in the parking lot of some grocer, in the front of which I waxs supposed to meet ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mech_angel. I got outside, and ther were people all around, in this empty space, and the guys from Nine Pound Hammer were on the roof of the store, yelling into a miced cell phone,. having a conversation with someone about how they should get down there. I walked over to mech_angel and asked her what was going on, and she told me. It obviuosly looked like they were waiting for Someone to join in, so I walked to the centre of the ring of people and cameras, and I said "Exactly What the hell is going on, here?!" And This scruffy kid with dark hair and a gun walked out and says "What's your name, stranger?" Recognising him, I said "Damien." He responded "Damien, huh? Well my name's Nick." And we stage a fight, for a while, at the end of which he points the gun at me and pulls the trigger three times. Empty clicks. We kiss.
We're in the house that used to be my grandfather's, and he's leaning over me, and I open my eyes, and have to move my shoulder down, as other scenes start playing out in the empty space in the middle of the room, and my shoulder was blocking the camera. I overhear snippets of phone conversation, and people talking to various celebrities, and I ask things like "was he just talking to _______" and so on. I go getmech_angel to introduce her to Nick, but by the time we get back from the platform where she was sitting, he's gone.
It's time for presents, and people need to sign in, to the party, and I've forgotten to, even though it's at our house. I make one of the [adult swim] execs sign in, too. "Even though it's your party." I askmech_angel hat the date is, and she tells me 07/07. "So," I say. "It's 777. Hn. That means it's also [beard]'s birthday." The presenting takes on other dimensions, and we start looking for things for him, and I draw a picture of an apartment complex (traced from a photo) and it turns into an apartment on wheels... Eventually, the whole thing shifts.
A kid is looking to buy an apartment. I think it's me. He sees a big seriers of neck hoops, with locks on the sides, and wonders how anyone can fit in them. Then he sees the woman whose they are and says "But I just say you outside in th basket." by which he means a huge basket style bed, in the back drivewayin which many people were laying, naked, on top of each other. She says "No, you saw________." At which point I understand that she is the head, and he the body, in a symbiotic relationship. I go outside to look at the piles of bodies, all shapes and colours, and there is a running voice over in my head, making measurements and couplings into equations of form; morning musing on a party, as per my usual.. I wander back inside, and go to the basement to think, where I see Kieth David, and I say "What are you doing up? Shouldn't you be in that pile, outside?" He responds, "Ahh, I shouldn't have been in it in the first place. But, hey..." And we talk, a bit, about the nature of debauchery, and getting older, and settling down.
Another shift, or something, something having to do with someone buying someone else, at the party, a weed-whacker, but deciding against it.
I woke up.
Strange dreams.
Here: New Scientist puts out a painfully obvious piece, about dreams; Though they try to say it about television, and only briefly mention the impact thta other interactions and inputs can have. Ah well.
Food.
Also: Some Pimpage, onreannaremick's behlaf. Take a look, seems pretty cool.
mech_angel. I got outside, and ther were people all around, in this empty space, and the guys from Nine Pound Hammer were on the roof of the store, yelling into a miced cell phone,. having a conversation with someone about how they should get down there. I walked over to mech_angel and asked her what was going on, and she told me. It obviuosly looked like they were waiting for Someone to join in, so I walked to the centre of the ring of people and cameras, and I said "Exactly What the hell is going on, here?!" And This scruffy kid with dark hair and a gun walked out and says "What's your name, stranger?" Recognising him, I said "Damien." He responded "Damien, huh? Well my name's Nick." And we stage a fight, for a while, at the end of which he points the gun at me and pulls the trigger three times. Empty clicks. We kiss.We're in the house that used to be my grandfather's, and he's leaning over me, and I open my eyes, and have to move my shoulder down, as other scenes start playing out in the empty space in the middle of the room, and my shoulder was blocking the camera. I overhear snippets of phone conversation, and people talking to various celebrities, and I ask things like "was he just talking to _______" and so on. I go get
mech_angel to introduce her to Nick, but by the time we get back from the platform where she was sitting, he's gone.It's time for presents, and people need to sign in, to the party, and I've forgotten to, even though it's at our house. I make one of the [adult swim] execs sign in, too. "Even though it's your party." I ask
mech_angel hat the date is, and she tells me 07/07. "So," I say. "It's 777. Hn. That means it's also [beard]'s birthday." The presenting takes on other dimensions, and we start looking for things for him, and I draw a picture of an apartment complex (traced from a photo) and it turns into an apartment on wheels... Eventually, the whole thing shifts.A kid is looking to buy an apartment. I think it's me. He sees a big seriers of neck hoops, with locks on the sides, and wonders how anyone can fit in them. Then he sees the woman whose they are and says "But I just say you outside in th basket." by which he means a huge basket style bed, in the back drivewayin which many people were laying, naked, on top of each other. She says "No, you saw________." At which point I understand that she is the head, and he the body, in a symbiotic relationship. I go outside to look at the piles of bodies, all shapes and colours, and there is a running voice over in my head, making measurements and couplings into equations of form; morning musing on a party, as per my usual.. I wander back inside, and go to the basement to think, where I see Kieth David, and I say "What are you doing up? Shouldn't you be in that pile, outside?" He responds, "Ahh, I shouldn't have been in it in the first place. But, hey..." And we talk, a bit, about the nature of debauchery, and getting older, and settling down.
Another shift, or something, something having to do with someone buying someone else, at the party, a weed-whacker, but deciding against it.
I woke up.
Strange dreams.
Here: New Scientist puts out a painfully obvious piece, about dreams; Though they try to say it about television, and only briefly mention the impact thta other interactions and inputs can have. Ah well.
Food.
Also: Some Pimpage, on
reannaremick's behlaf. Take a look, seems pretty cool.
