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  • My brother had come home to ask for money and lie to my parents. He had a whole scheme worked out complete with slides and brochures and they didn't believe a word.

  • My grandmother's house, a ruby brooch, I was in trouble, too hot inside, the river.

  • floating or swimming, water all around

  • I was Andrew Smith for a few minutes and it wasn't at all pleasant.
  • There was this painting, i couldnt stop looking at it. Six men walking along a rural mud road, a few were younger, some were dressed like bohemian 80's neon mercenaries. The sky was red, and the farmland around them shimmering with the sounds of MOO cows cooing. The bulky bruised man up front brushed a smear of mud from his cheek revealing a gold yellow scar, an involuntary tattoo, odd in its crystalline fractal quality intricately weaving down into his collar.

    There were loud cannon sounds that hopped overhead with playful menace, yet none of the party appeared to take notice. As they walked, the background swung away like a moebius strip on a zoetrope, shuttering the cows, flip book style, spitting cud and singing just like in got milk? commercials. A cigarette or joint is being shared by a large mammoth of a man in front with the yellow scarred dude, the other four are keeping up while stirring brown sugar into bowls of oatmeal.

    The background choir seems to intensify as the wheat fields join in, spreading their happiness through their natural sheafs of music. One of the boys from the back pulls free a wheat strand that was singing too close to him and bites its ass. The sky seems to lower into a mist of red, the cows have taken to chanting in low gudderal bleats.. preparing the scene as the Wheat God approaches...
    I was temporarily living in a small house. I think my mom was there with me but I'm not sure. From one window there was a view of a frat house. A calm one. In the house I discovered a secret door that led to a room that had been boarded up, but thank god it wasn't like the room in The Changeling (that is one scary-ass movie, BTW). This room was filled with sofas -some I recognized. Five in all.

    In the same house, there were ghosts. I saw the woman first - the back of her, as she stepped through a door, milky-transparent. She had a husband, and a baby, because I had seen them all at different times, and never together, until they they all visited me one night when I was in bed.

    When I first saw them I thought "I'm moving. I am moving tomorrow, if not right now."

    She appeared first, in a long, glamorous, red and tan dress, and hovered in the middle of my room. I heard her talking, apparently to her husband, who showed up after her. He was good-looking, with dark wavy hair. He sat down and starting talking, but I don't remember what he said. The woman came over, embraced me, and went somewhere else. She was solid, like she was alive. The baby sort of...moved..across the room, and I held it in front of me, but it was kind of creepy.

    It sort of ended there. It was kind of a movie-dream, that picked up where it left off (or so it seemed).

    Two co-workers sit to my right, and we talk about... something, I forget now. There is coffee, and notebooks, it must be a meeting, in the windowless conference room. Then the long-term consultant, seated across the table, asks us something, and I'm the only one who knows. Conversation turns to just how damn smart I am, the classes I have taken, the stuff I have learned independently, my IQ and SAT scores and MENSA membership, blahblahblah. If you stroke your own ego, is it ego masturbation? If so, this was a big vain IQ Pride Wet Dream.

    Sometime during my 5 hours of sleep this morning, I had a dream. I dreamt I was running around some track that was on the second level of a building with a hole in the middle (like the gym here at Dartmouth). Alright, I guess it was more like a nightmare since I was running. Anyway, I see Mouse (this guy on the Ultimate team, and a one-time noder) running in front of me and decide that I need to beat him (as in run by him, not physically pound him with my meathooks). So I start racing with him and we're going at it (as in running, not having sex). But, Mouse unfortunately decides to take a turn to tight (kind of at a 30 degree angle on a circular track) and runs into the rail. If you've seen Mouse run, you know this is possible. His body starts tumbling over the railing and I grab onto his legs/ankles with my hands (like in the movies). AT this point, I calmy say to the person near me, "little help...little help." but, unfortunately for Mouse, I lose my grip before the guy can get there. Mouse falls head first to the floor below and lands on his head. He kind of bounces off the floor leaving a wet mark of some kind, but miraculously is still alive. At this point I am somewhat shaken up at having almost been part of the death of Mouse. Then I hear from below in a somewhat jocular voice, "Mouse is gonna have some permanent retardation...he's not looking to good." I woke up from this dream in somewhat disturbed, but then calmed myself with the realization that it was only Mouse. And really, it probably wasn't the first time he sustained such a severe head injury.

    Wlaking around with my girlfriend, or so I thought. But it wasn't really her, or rather sometimes it was, and sometimes not. We were inside and outside at different intervals, in locations I didn't know. Always holding hands, encompassed by quiet bliss known only to monks and lovers.
    We weren't going anywhere special, just walking. But I kept feeling lost, and unconfortable, and more and more afraid of something ahead.
    Then I would look at her only to see not her, but rather someone else who was like her and need to run away, but couldn't.

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