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wolven7All of the dreams are different realities, again. Every transition a sense like following several different roads of potential, at once. Hard to explain
A nose bleed, a white wash cloth, and my scrubbing the blood off of the wash cloth, so that it wouldn't be used against me.
A cop in a ramshackle area of of a town, looking for his daughter, in a hostage situation. The area of town looked like what i've seen and heard of Hong Kong, and the building in question is under construction, with plastic sheeting over doors, and uncertain boards and footing. Frantic.
Back in the house from the bloody nose and washcloth incident, and there are wild boars in the house, rooting around, looking for things. The place is a combination of my mother's place, and my Aunt Ella's, and I get on top of the furniture, to avoid being gored by the boars. The become more docile and kitten-like, the more time the spend in the house, and ealise that they just want to go outside. I get down, slowly, gently, and let them go out. One runs away, inside the house, and I have to gently herd it back to where it's supposed to be, and lead it out the door...
I'm wandering around, inside the house, thinking about the piggy incident, and there is a song, stuck in my head; something by KMFDM, called "A New/-nother Theory [of the Truth]," and there was a new version of Throwing Muses' "Snakeface," playing somewhere in the kitchen. I go into the kitchen thinking about who I'd never heard that intro to the song, before, and seen sandwich components (lettuce, onion slices, green and red peppers, and so on), all along the counter. I know that my grandmother was standing there, eating them, and I start to make a sandwich, while considering which of these bits has been touched by the boars. While I do this, I notice that I can't touch the green peppers. In the act of touching them, for cutting and eating, I change them, and they mature, quite a bit, and become Red Peppers. This is disturbing.
I woke up trying to make myself remember all the components of all the dreams, but it wasn't happening. I could only remember chunks and snippets, and I'm still forgetting something from when I was in that half-conscious state...
David Bowie - [Telling Lies]--- The back of my tongue tastes like cherry cough syrup flavouring, and like I ate a hamburger before I went to bed, and it feels like spring outside and in my right sinus cavity.
Morning, everyone. How are you, today?
A nose bleed, a white wash cloth, and my scrubbing the blood off of the wash cloth, so that it wouldn't be used against me.
A cop in a ramshackle area of of a town, looking for his daughter, in a hostage situation. The area of town looked like what i've seen and heard of Hong Kong, and the building in question is under construction, with plastic sheeting over doors, and uncertain boards and footing. Frantic.
Back in the house from the bloody nose and washcloth incident, and there are wild boars in the house, rooting around, looking for things. The place is a combination of my mother's place, and my Aunt Ella's, and I get on top of the furniture, to avoid being gored by the boars. The become more docile and kitten-like, the more time the spend in the house, and ealise that they just want to go outside. I get down, slowly, gently, and let them go out. One runs away, inside the house, and I have to gently herd it back to where it's supposed to be, and lead it out the door...
I'm wandering around, inside the house, thinking about the piggy incident, and there is a song, stuck in my head; something by KMFDM, called "A New/-nother Theory [of the Truth]," and there was a new version of Throwing Muses' "Snakeface," playing somewhere in the kitchen. I go into the kitchen thinking about who I'd never heard that intro to the song, before, and seen sandwich components (lettuce, onion slices, green and red peppers, and so on), all along the counter. I know that my grandmother was standing there, eating them, and I start to make a sandwich, while considering which of these bits has been touched by the boars. While I do this, I notice that I can't touch the green peppers. In the act of touching them, for cutting and eating, I change them, and they mature, quite a bit, and become Red Peppers. This is disturbing.
I woke up trying to make myself remember all the components of all the dreams, but it wasn't happening. I could only remember chunks and snippets, and I'm still forgetting something from when I was in that half-conscious state...
David Bowie - [Telling Lies]--- The back of my tongue tastes like cherry cough syrup flavouring, and like I ate a hamburger before I went to bed, and it feels like spring outside and in my right sinus cavity.
Morning, everyone. How are you, today?
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no subject
Date: 2008-01-07 07:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-07 11:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-08 06:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-08 07:43 am (UTC)Whoops...
Date: 2008-01-08 03:03 am (UTC)Ah, dreams
Date: 2008-01-08 03:05 am (UTC)In a only tangentially-related ... oh, here, let me message you directly.
Re: Ah, dreams
Date: 2008-01-08 07:50 am (UTC)Re: Whoops...
Date: 2008-01-08 07:50 am (UTC)Well, yes.
Date: 2008-01-08 04:11 pm (UTC)Milk was for more liquid in which to dissolve the salt, and fat to absorb it.
Re: Well, yes.
Date: 2008-01-08 04:42 pm (UTC)