Dream Log: May 5, 2000

- / +

I went home full of love for a massive piece of furnture I'd forgotten until now. A gigantic mahogany highboy with drawers and doors and a beveled-edge mirror that shone little erratic rainbows on the hallway floor. It always stood in that poorly-lit back hall at Boorman House, and I wanted to give it somewhere with real light, sunlight to seep into the wood and make it glow. My father said Honey, we sold it at the auction, don't you remember? I hated him for it, I cried, I knew there was no way to get it back, ever.

(that one was a true dream, I mean, we did sell it.)

She kept wanting me to look at the photos from her cheap little 110 camera. I had other things to do. She was 4, how great could her pictures really be? I should have known by the way she insisted about how her hair should be, this kid knew how things should look. They were all good pictures but the one that made me want to steal it was of her face, and Megan's, leaning over the camera, their red and gold hair swirling around each other in a warm curly waterfall.

what is this, where are we, where did you leave the car, we'll have to grab something to eat on the way, we're late, the cops ain't gonna like this.

"Oh my god, they killed Barry White!"

"You bastards!"

in our last episode... | p_i-logs | and then, all of a sudden...

I find myself in my parent's house. I'm not sure what is happening but suddenly I hear chanting. I look around and see others around me. The whole room is sort of blood red colored. Then I realize this is some sort of dark ritual, and I feel myself floating. I look down to see myself. I can vaguely make out the others who have also left their bodies, While their bodies are opaque, their souls are semi-transparent like mine is.

I've never been deeply religious, but I can feel that we are in league with the devil himself. What have we done here? I fight back and manage to get back to my body and say two prayers. One asking for forgiveness and another saying thanks for allowing me safe return.

Who are these people I'm with? I can't make out any of their faces. They don't truly worship the devil it seems, they only enjoy the rush it gives them. It is their drug. For what we have experienced is far better than any other sort of high.

If going to church were like this, God would have no problems converting people.

My coder friend, B. and I were on a 007 adventure, escaping from the bad guys. We were in a group of about 6 or 7 black suited people. We had black suits on too - and shades. One of them was my friend's girlfriend. We were traveling in a big old Cadillac. We found a cheesy motel on the outskirts of town. Once we had gotten to the room, we decided to go to the pool.

B. and his girlfriend decided it was time to have sex, so they stripped at the pool. The rest of us were all just hanging around, talking, and wearing our black suits and shades. I noticed that B. had absolutely no genitalia - his bottom was as smooth as Ken's - and the same was true for his lovely girlfriend. And their method of having sex seemed to involve flopping around on top of each other as though they were fish out of water. None of us thought it was odd, however.

We didn't stare.