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wolven7i'm out i n the woods, with a bunch of people, up a mountain, and we seem to be in Virginia, somewhere. We're wandering around, and trying to understand things about what's happening to the world. At one point, the world is there. The Earth, itself. There are problems, and ther seems to be some coming destruction, because our host, who is a combination of Stephen Strange, and Nick Fury, and an Old Bruce Wayne, has constructed a Space Ark.
We're all up in space, checking out the Ark. It had to be constructed in space, because it was too large to escape the Earth's gravity. To Heavy. Our host says "This is the part where I tell you that it's not much, but it's home." The thing is huge enourmous and brass-coloured. At least the total volume of the Earth. We're walking along the side of this massive thing, and I ask our host "When should we click on the mag-boots? Where's the entrance on this thing?" And he says, "Well, using the Earth as a marker point, the entrance is somewhere near the bottom." We swing around the bottom, and the momentum, in no gravity, nearly throws us all off. Luckily we're walking Conga Line-Style, and our Host clamps down, and holds us all in place. We go inside.
On Earth, again, there is something about memebers of my family, and lines of cars. People trying to understand and not panic, and make sure that everyone knows about the Ark, and knows that it's a way to safety. There Is room enough, on it, for every human being, and animal. Something about a line of cars, leaving the mountain/forest place, heading back toward the Cities.
Flash of a party, father and son, looking at the ceiling, in the room in which they stand. The Father says "It's like that... what's his name. Bat-Ling? Bat-Lies? Whatever. The point IS, son, you can't operate outside of the law. There are systems of justice and rules. Besides there are bills to pay, and real life issues to worry about." And the Son says, "Then I guess that's why WayneCorp has it's government cotracts all lined up, eh dad?" and something about being able to fund lawyers, and so on. Something about not having to worry about money. One of them IS Batman. One of them is also Bruce Wayne. It is unclear which is which, and if Batman and Bruce Wayne are the same person, anymore. This section lasts about 10 seconds.
I'm on the bus, with Ray, and i'm heading towards somewhere, with people. People are angry with me, and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
michette is walking around the outside of the bus, on a ledge that seems to be attached for just this purpose. She comes in the bus, and can't decide if she's speaking to me, or not, so she sits down, as Ray is explaining to me the levels of Goths that get on his nerves. He says "Level 42 is kinda like the least amount of pissed off, but higher than that, and it all just starts to get fucked up. Even you, sometimes." And i say, "Like when i get in those places where i'm whining, with nothing to do about something, and i hit level 42, yeah, i know." And we're riding, and it's MARTA but it's SEPTA, and we're in a combination of Atlanta and Philadelphia.
Something, here, that is nearly indescribable. A feeling of being entwined with someone's soul, winding through it, each tasting [of] the other, indivduality, but Prefering not to be apart. Electricity, but with soul-energy and near visibile sparks. This is woven throught the essence and feeling of the dream. A feeling, also, of the merger of nature and technology, them working together. In cities and space, near-dystopian Gibson-Esque technological advancement, and on Earth, in the forests, a perfectly cognizant natural beauty. Each working together, and of/for itself.
There is a party at a house near the beac. On the outside, this house looks like a hovel, and if you stand outside the door, with the beach to your left, you can see the City, off in the distance. Ther eis a grey haze. But this is a beach house, and a beach house party setting, and, inside, people are making out, and drinking, and, in soe bedroom, somewhere, that feels kind of likefuzzybastard's room, from the Douglas House, but not, there are Spices being made. Spices made out of essences, and colours, and things that you wouldn't think could make a spice mixture, but they do, and there's a contest, happening, to see who can make the hotest/tastiest. Mine is well on it's way to being the victor, and i add a kind of lime spiced vinegar, very tart, with a spicy bite, and i'm mixing this all in a little hidden compartment in the CD tray part of a Single-CD jewel case. The compartment flips up, and there's a little bowl in there, with room enough to use a mortar and pestle, to grind spices. There's the feeling of working in the Mexico exhibit, at the Capital Children's Museum, again. As i'm perfecting this, according to the tastes of people, in the room, there are kitties, around, and we are watching a movie. Ii'm not grinding spices, anymore, i'm making some sort of Spaghetti/Lasagne combination, and all of the spice and lime, and sauce is at the top, and nees to be tossed together, that that there's an even distribution. So i get a large fork and spoon, from this special tool case, and i mix it all. I'm in this room with Patrick, some Girl, and these two or three kitties, and Patrick seems to be Gone. He's left a note that says that he's gone to obtain/give out contact information, as people had requested that. He would be back, later. The kitties, realising that Patrick is gone, start misbehaving. The think "When it's away, for long periods of tim, then hey... Let's play. " And they get all over the bed and pillows, and into everything, where they're not supposed to be. I go to look out the door, open it, inward, and there is an outer door, which is closed. And the kitties love this, this gives them free-reign, somehow, to tear aroudn the room like Mad. So the Do. I, also, have been charged with hitting this squirrel-thing ballon, witha whip. It's a bet, and if i can't pop it, i lose. More feelings and images of outside, in the woods, the sense of a party aganst destruction. A bit of the "Meh," vibe, from me. The balloon is popped.
I'm wandering around, in the party, with the Pasta, in this giant serving dish, and the shot keeps panning to outside, showing how dark it is, the intense grey haze. There are people fromt he American Pie movies, making out, or having sex, in the living room, next to the open walled kitchen, and trying to tell people not to look at them. I say "If you're going ot do that, in public, don't get upset when and if people watch." I've set the bowl down, and there is the feeling of walking around withmech_angel. I get back to the Waynes, again, and they are talking, again about the Batman thing.
They are staring at the ceiling, and this is all, from this point on, done in a comic style, with word ballons, and everything. The Father says "It's like that... what's his name. Bat-Ling? Bat-Lies? Whatever. The point IS, son, you can't operate outside of the law. There are systems of justice and rules. Besides there are bills to pay, and real life issues to worry about." And the Son says, "Then I guess that's why WayneCorp has it's government cotracts all lined up, eh dad?" and something about being able to fund lawyers, and so on. Something about not having to worry about money. One of them IS Batman. One of them is also Bruce Wayne. It is unclear which is which, but either way, the other knows, and they both know tht they know. IT's a show, for the benefit of te audience. But the Father is also Spawn, and as the son talks abotu their money,we see aw crater, int he dark side of the moon, drawn with Pictures of his Face, detailing his transfomation into Spawn. There is another crater, above that one, showing something else, something about his wife. The son is narrating this section,in blurbs, and the next one says "And then my father wept, openly. For five minutes he wept, and no one in the party noticed." The Father, who is starting to be me, sobs "Why her? Why of all of the people, min the world, did it have to be her?" And we, all three of us, already knows the answer: Because he loved her. Because he cared enough about her to marry her and have a life with her, and that killed her, and changed him, and his son, forever. I wake up
And those were my extraordinarily distquieting dreams. That last bit... I didn't want to blame the son, but it was kind of His fault. His mother had died giving birth to him. I woke up to find the contents of my pockets, from when i crashed, strewn about my bed, in a manner that suggests lots of movement. I was aggitated, it seems. That part on the bus, by the way, was in Heavy, slow-moving traffic. So... Yeah... Lots of 'Points to Ponder,' as Sara, meine Professorin von Deutsch, would say.
Anywho, i'm off for a day of doing jack and shite all, maybe some homework, later... Cause i'm a slacker, sometimes. I may work on this new story i started, last night. It's cool. I'm happy with the creativity thing, again.
Later
{1.45pm. The Last Dance - [Terribly When]--- Oh, and that light sensitivity thing evened itself out, nicely, thank you.}
We're all up in space, checking out the Ark. It had to be constructed in space, because it was too large to escape the Earth's gravity. To Heavy. Our host says "This is the part where I tell you that it's not much, but it's home." The thing is huge enourmous and brass-coloured. At least the total volume of the Earth. We're walking along the side of this massive thing, and I ask our host "When should we click on the mag-boots? Where's the entrance on this thing?" And he says, "Well, using the Earth as a marker point, the entrance is somewhere near the bottom." We swing around the bottom, and the momentum, in no gravity, nearly throws us all off. Luckily we're walking Conga Line-Style, and our Host clamps down, and holds us all in place. We go inside.
On Earth, again, there is something about memebers of my family, and lines of cars. People trying to understand and not panic, and make sure that everyone knows about the Ark, and knows that it's a way to safety. There Is room enough, on it, for every human being, and animal. Something about a line of cars, leaving the mountain/forest place, heading back toward the Cities.
Flash of a party, father and son, looking at the ceiling, in the room in which they stand. The Father says "It's like that... what's his name. Bat-Ling? Bat-Lies? Whatever. The point IS, son, you can't operate outside of the law. There are systems of justice and rules. Besides there are bills to pay, and real life issues to worry about." And the Son says, "Then I guess that's why WayneCorp has it's government cotracts all lined up, eh dad?" and something about being able to fund lawyers, and so on. Something about not having to worry about money. One of them IS Batman. One of them is also Bruce Wayne. It is unclear which is which, and if Batman and Bruce Wayne are the same person, anymore. This section lasts about 10 seconds.
I'm on the bus, with Ray, and i'm heading towards somewhere, with people. People are angry with me, and
michette is walking around the outside of the bus, on a ledge that seems to be attached for just this purpose. She comes in the bus, and can't decide if she's speaking to me, or not, so she sits down, as Ray is explaining to me the levels of Goths that get on his nerves. He says "Level 42 is kinda like the least amount of pissed off, but higher than that, and it all just starts to get fucked up. Even you, sometimes." And i say, "Like when i get in those places where i'm whining, with nothing to do about something, and i hit level 42, yeah, i know." And we're riding, and it's MARTA but it's SEPTA, and we're in a combination of Atlanta and Philadelphia.Something, here, that is nearly indescribable. A feeling of being entwined with someone's soul, winding through it, each tasting [of] the other, indivduality, but Prefering not to be apart. Electricity, but with soul-energy and near visibile sparks. This is woven throught the essence and feeling of the dream. A feeling, also, of the merger of nature and technology, them working together. In cities and space, near-dystopian Gibson-Esque technological advancement, and on Earth, in the forests, a perfectly cognizant natural beauty. Each working together, and of/for itself.
There is a party at a house near the beac. On the outside, this house looks like a hovel, and if you stand outside the door, with the beach to your left, you can see the City, off in the distance. Ther eis a grey haze. But this is a beach house, and a beach house party setting, and, inside, people are making out, and drinking, and, in soe bedroom, somewhere, that feels kind of like
fuzzybastard's room, from the Douglas House, but not, there are Spices being made. Spices made out of essences, and colours, and things that you wouldn't think could make a spice mixture, but they do, and there's a contest, happening, to see who can make the hotest/tastiest. Mine is well on it's way to being the victor, and i add a kind of lime spiced vinegar, very tart, with a spicy bite, and i'm mixing this all in a little hidden compartment in the CD tray part of a Single-CD jewel case. The compartment flips up, and there's a little bowl in there, with room enough to use a mortar and pestle, to grind spices. There's the feeling of working in the Mexico exhibit, at the Capital Children's Museum, again. As i'm perfecting this, according to the tastes of people, in the room, there are kitties, around, and we are watching a movie. Ii'm not grinding spices, anymore, i'm making some sort of Spaghetti/Lasagne combination, and all of the spice and lime, and sauce is at the top, and nees to be tossed together, that that there's an even distribution. So i get a large fork and spoon, from this special tool case, and i mix it all. I'm in this room with Patrick, some Girl, and these two or three kitties, and Patrick seems to be Gone. He's left a note that says that he's gone to obtain/give out contact information, as people had requested that. He would be back, later. The kitties, realising that Patrick is gone, start misbehaving. The think "When it's away, for long periods of tim, then hey... Let's play. " And they get all over the bed and pillows, and into everything, where they're not supposed to be. I go to look out the door, open it, inward, and there is an outer door, which is closed. And the kitties love this, this gives them free-reign, somehow, to tear aroudn the room like Mad. So the Do. I, also, have been charged with hitting this squirrel-thing ballon, witha whip. It's a bet, and if i can't pop it, i lose. More feelings and images of outside, in the woods, the sense of a party aganst destruction. A bit of the "Meh," vibe, from me. The balloon is popped.I'm wandering around, in the party, with the Pasta, in this giant serving dish, and the shot keeps panning to outside, showing how dark it is, the intense grey haze. There are people fromt he American Pie movies, making out, or having sex, in the living room, next to the open walled kitchen, and trying to tell people not to look at them. I say "If you're going ot do that, in public, don't get upset when and if people watch." I've set the bowl down, and there is the feeling of walking around with
mech_angel. I get back to the Waynes, again, and they are talking, again about the Batman thing.They are staring at the ceiling, and this is all, from this point on, done in a comic style, with word ballons, and everything. The Father says "It's like that... what's his name. Bat-Ling? Bat-Lies? Whatever. The point IS, son, you can't operate outside of the law. There are systems of justice and rules. Besides there are bills to pay, and real life issues to worry about." And the Son says, "Then I guess that's why WayneCorp has it's government cotracts all lined up, eh dad?" and something about being able to fund lawyers, and so on. Something about not having to worry about money. One of them IS Batman. One of them is also Bruce Wayne. It is unclear which is which, but either way, the other knows, and they both know tht they know. IT's a show, for the benefit of te audience. But the Father is also Spawn, and as the son talks abotu their money,we see aw crater, int he dark side of the moon, drawn with Pictures of his Face, detailing his transfomation into Spawn. There is another crater, above that one, showing something else, something about his wife. The son is narrating this section,in blurbs, and the next one says "And then my father wept, openly. For five minutes he wept, and no one in the party noticed." The Father, who is starting to be me, sobs "Why her? Why of all of the people, min the world, did it have to be her?" And we, all three of us, already knows the answer: Because he loved her. Because he cared enough about her to marry her and have a life with her, and that killed her, and changed him, and his son, forever. I wake up
And those were my extraordinarily distquieting dreams. That last bit... I didn't want to blame the son, but it was kind of His fault. His mother had died giving birth to him. I woke up to find the contents of my pockets, from when i crashed, strewn about my bed, in a manner that suggests lots of movement. I was aggitated, it seems. That part on the bus, by the way, was in Heavy, slow-moving traffic. So... Yeah... Lots of 'Points to Ponder,' as Sara, meine Professorin von Deutsch, would say.
Anywho, i'm off for a day of doing jack and shite all, maybe some homework, later... Cause i'm a slacker, sometimes. I may work on this new story i started, last night. It's cool. I'm happy with the creativity thing, again.
Later
{1.45pm. The Last Dance - [Terribly When]--- Oh, and that light sensitivity thing evened itself out, nicely, thank you.}
