Dream Log: November 13, 2001

In last night's main feature, I was hanging out in the home my family resided in for about four years in my early childhood. (I dream of this tiny house that sat in a bad neighborhood a lot.) I walked in from the garage and noticed my mother, dressed as a gorgon, and my sister, costumed as a clown, at the dinner table. My step-father was watching "The Outlaw Josie Wales" on the TV in the next room. (His favorite flick in reality.)

I was suddenly very upset with my mother and sister, because I knew they were going to some sort of big costume party and I couldn't go for some reason. I climbed the stairs next to them, ashamed.

Suddenly, however, I was at the party. The "party" was a bunch of celebrities dressed in "scary" costumes, and they were on teams in this wooded back yard, preparing to fight each other. Mel Gibson was there dressed as Mad Max, Goldberg was there, Attila the Hun, Swamp Thing, and others. And my sister in her clown suit. (?) They all began to fight, and I realized that I was supposed to be a reporter covering the event. While watching the debauchery, a group of 13-year-old girls walked by and started squealing and such, saying "Oh Grooosss!" I found this amusing, and took a large pile of goop off Swamp Thing's shoulder, put the goop in my mouth, and spit it towards these girls. They screamed and ran off.

Probably one of the oddest dreams I've had in weeks.

Todays was different, I'll give it that, but no less importatnt therefore


It's a warm enough fall day, this baffles me right away because it looks like winter, that heavy feeling that gets in the air, its not lacking today. I'm walking towards a building, I should know it but I've never seen it.

The scale of the place borders on grandiose, the metal sculputre next to me was obviously something animal in it's tones of copper and gold, but again simply too large to be identified properly at that distance.

Again comes that feeling, that comfort that one can only find in dreams. In dreams we are almost always sure of where we are, even if we were to trust the sense of sight alone we would have never seen the place.

I know where I am and I indeed know why I am here as well. I'm searching for her, not any her in perticular. I'm looking for 'that' her, the one who doesn't betray for any reason. The one whom must be kept. I'll need to come again, I didn't find her you see.

I was watching a play in a small prosceneum theatre. Onstage, a naked woman was talking to four half-dressed men in a locker room set. She was having a conversation, but I can't hear what they're saying. It doesn't seem like the men are having any sexual tension because of the woman, but they just listen. The lighting was warm, enhancing the colors of the actors' skin and the wooden bench set in front of them.

I was bored, so I walked out of the theatre. I was awed by the building the theatre is housed in. Black and white marble floor tiles, sea-green walls sculpted in waves, peaking towards me, and sinking in forward. I saw a staircase with wrought steel bannisters, and climbed up to a wall. I had to climb out of the bannister just to get to the second floor, spotting two East-Asian men dressed as butlers. More and more marble floors and sea-green walls. I had more to climb for sure.