Very, very odd.  And I almost never remember dreams.  And I've never been a cow before.

I was a cow.  I chewed on grass.  A lot.

What were you expecting?!  I was a COW, for God's sake.

I wonder what a psychologist would say this dream meant.

Moo.

My father was fixing something, and asked me to get a spire from the toolbox next to the tv. I went to the toolbox, and though I didnt know exactly what spire means (My main language is finnish), I remembered the Spirevillage from Unreal, so I decided it had to be some pointy object. I took a sharp metal stick and asked if it was the spire, but I heard it wasnt. I took another, but it wasnt it either, so I asked what the spire was. He was pissed because I didnt know such thing, and said that it was a rock that could be shaped like clay. I went to the toolbox, found only some dust from it, but suddenly Joonas Hytönen (Finnish talkshow host) appeared in front of me in a puff of smoke with two books in his hands! Other book included his life, and other was titled "How Joonas Hytönen Invented The Spire". He told that he was the inventor of the spire, and therefore a god, but I asked that wont that make him only the god of the spire. He shouted "Noo!" as he started to smoke, turning into a lump of spire..

my next door neighbor picks up my cat, sugar, and flings her around by her tail. a large section of said tail falls off as the cat goes winging through the air. i beat the ever-living shit out of him as i explain to him how he's ruined her whole concept of balance. sugar stumbles around drunkenly.

A round of fairly lucid dreams last night. No major plots, but very vivid realities, instead. Maybe I can only have so much of each at once.

  • It's a smack derivative: Taking smack with some friends. Normally, I wouldn't do that kind of thing. This was odd, though. It wasn't heroin. I'm not sure what it was, exactly, because nobody really knew what drug we were taking. It was moody, and somewhat pleasant. Well, I do drugs with friends. Logical extention. It may have been a reflection of my recent decision to back off on drug use. It's a funny decision, of course, because I'm so far from an abuser in every regard.
  • Flying turtles: Oh, sure, it sounds neat. Turtles can fly, fish can sing, and rabbits really do lay eggs. But, I ask you, what do you do when a flying turtle hits your windshield as you barrel down the freeway doing 90 mph?
I arrived late to a family function that was being held on a private boat of sorts. You were already there, talking to my sisters, though IRL, I don't even get along well enough with women to have "sisters," but that's a different story.

You and I exchanged verbal greetings, and there was the usual excitement in your eyes, but you didn't pounce me, you stayed where you were. Nothing in your body language indicated there were any issues, this is just your way. You are comfortable just existing with me, and you put on your social suit for everyone else. But...

You continued a conversation you were having with one of my sisters. I talked with someone else, keeping a longing eye on you, wanting you to pay attention to ME, your girlfriend. I knew we'd curl up later when we got home, but I still was wanting the calm, smooth conversation you have with friends. The price of seeing your interior was losing the bullshit Leo exterior, I guess. I know this is a good thing, that you show me who you really are...but it's hard for me to accept that loss since I tend to be superficial, and am used to judging a person and a relationship by looks, conversation, etc.

Five minutes later you were standing behind another sister, hands massaging her shoulders. Good conversation with her, it seemed, as your eyes were smiling. We still hadn't even hugged hello, and you're being physically close with her.

You weren't sleeping beside me when I woke up today, and I'm feeling the lonliness even more. A lot has transpired since the last time we saw each other, and I'm craving a chance to touch base and reconnect with you, to look into your eyes again, to tell each other everything's gonna work out. Yesterday I missed you so much I was nearly crying on the phone. *sigh*

I can break or change anyone's rules except for my own, it seems.

I dream that I'm walking through the door into my room, my best friend, Nick Robbins is standing in front of me, I don't expect him, he shouldn't be at my house, in my dream. So I jump half-way out of my skin, scared shitless.
I notice that he is wearing a black polyester shirt with thin white pin-stripes that my friend Rhys Gaetano gave to me. The shirt doesn't fit me, so I don't really wear it much, but if it did fit me, I'd wear it all the time, because it is very snazzy looking.

So I don't know what the shit Nick is doing there, but I know he shouldn't be there.
Inside my room, there is a CD on, it's playing Murder City Devils a loud, punk-ish band, with lots of organ music involved in it, they are singing loud.
I remember recognizing the song:

"I don't know what city I'm in, but there's nowhere I'd rather be."
This morning I was awoken by the sound of someone yelling out on the street. It sounded like giberish to me. Lots of loud, excited, yelling... but none of the syllables seemed to meet up to form words. Then I heard a noise like banging... someone with a stick banging on something? My car?

At this point, I'm still somewhat groggy. Things never really make sense to me the first 10-15 minutess I'm awake. In my mind, I see this lunatic taking a stick to my car... beating it, and happily blathering away all the while.

But, I was really too out of it to worry about my car at that point. I got up, made a trip to the bathroom, then came back to look out onto the street. No one.

It's very likely I dreamt the yelling and banging noises. Or that someone was yelling and banging on something, and I just incorporated it into my waking dream.

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