Well this morning I had a strange dream, as I was resisting to wake up as it is a school day.

Well I found myself in London. I had taken a trip down there for the day and had been separated from my parents. I was with my brother and all I had with me was a backpack. Which contained some money and a few bits and bobs that were of no use to me in the situation that I found myself in. Well first of all we had to find somewhere to sleep because it was getting very late. I had found a spot on some stairs. I had used my bag as a pillow and rested my head on it. The rest of my body just lay down along the step, I then drifted off to sleep.
The next morning I woke up to find the place bustling with people. My brother had already woken up and had returned with some food. We ate it up as our breakfast. We then decided that it was time to think about returning home. We made our way toward a train station and using the money that was in the bag. We bought two tickets to my home and then went back to our steps where we sat and waited for the train to arrive. Then some people walked up to us and gave us a thick blanket. I couldn’t accept this offer, as I was not living on the streets. I tried to say to give it to some people that were actually homeless but the words I was saying weren’t coming out correctly. It was like I was talking to an alien or a foreigner and nothing I said could make them change their mind. I therefore accepted the blanket and continued to wait. Two kids ran up to us. One stole the blanket and the other stole the train tickets. I ran after them both, stopped one of them and raised him into the air. He dropped the blanket so I let him go and he scampered off. It was then that I realised I was officially homeless. It was also then that I woke up.

Warm Prickly

You pick up the machine and buzzbuzzbuzzzz a strip of hair off my head. I tell Mom she could either let me buzz the rest off, or have me walking around with a short haired stripe running parallel to my forehead.
That short part doesn't look so bad, now, does it, she says.
This boggles my mind because she's only been fighting me on this point for two years.

I grab the machine and gave myself a nice, short #4.
It's warm and prickly.

I can hear you in the other bed, clicking your teeth, so I turn over to show you my new hairstyle ( wheeeeeeeeeeee!), I could have sworn you were there, but it's Heather, she's snoring, and my hair hasn't been cut.

Last night I had children. Laying on flat steel hospital table with blue surgical cloths over me, and a pillow under my head, they made an incision in my belly and pulled out my babies. They laid white tape along either side of the incision, from belly button to sternum. Then sealed it with another piece of tape down the middle.

"Aren't you going to stitch that up?"

"No, we use tape." Said the man to the right. Covered in surgical gowns and mask, I couldn't see his face.

Time passed. Doctors left. It was me on the table with nurses milling to the left. More time passed. It had been half an hour and I still hadn't seen my babies. I couldn't take it any more. "Where are my babies?! Let me see my babies!" The nurses moved and talked quickly amongst themselves. I looked to the left and saw the doctor walking past the open door to the room. "Where are my babies?! Let me see my babies!"

"You've seen your babies already."

"No I haven't. Bring me my babies!"

"You've seen them. You held them in front of that mirror." To my right was a full length mirror on a door to the bathroom. A friend, I think it was randir, sat on a chair between me and the mirror nodding in agreement with me. I looked then turned my gaze back to the doctor.

"I have not. I haven't been off of this bed!" I started to sit up and the tape above the incision turned deep red with the blood that welled up beneath it. "Bring me my babies!" I yelled at him. I would rip this hospital apart room by room to get to them. Fuck the blood. And they knew I was serious, knew that nothing would stop me from seeing my babies and I would rip right through them in the process.

And then I was laying back with my babies in my arms. They were barely larger then kittens, but perfectly formed and healthy. They were my babies. I thanked the universe as I held them. I wasn't supposed to be able to have babies, but I did, and I was so thankful.

The dream jumped forward in time to the next afternoon. I was still in the hospital but it was more like a college. The doctors had my babies. I didn't know why, but I knew that their intentions were good an I would have them soon. A male friend (randir again?) in front of me held my hand and led me through a door into and through a classroom filled with people sitting on the floor at the far end of the room. Teachers had drawn pentagrams in circles, and pentangles with white chalk on the black floor. Magical script surrounded them. They were teaching but they didn't know what they were doing, like Christians describing prayers to Allah. They had no concept of the effects of their action. But, this time, they were harmless. The end of the room had inadvertently been turned into a holy place and my friend and I bowed, each in our own way, as we passed around them and continued into a small room on the other side of the far wall.

We waited, quietly talking words I never heard. A girl came into the room with a baby wrapped in a small crocheted pouch that hung from her neck, only the head peeking out. It was my baby. Why did she have my baby?! "Where did you get her?" I asked.

"There were two of them in a plastic box on the table in the other room."

I flew through the doors the first baby would be safe with her for the moment. More blood welled under my tape but I didn't care. On the table was a large, translucent, purple, Tupperware container with nine compartments and my baby in one. I grabbed my baby from in still feeling the panic in my veins, still shaking. I unwrapped her and held her nude form under my shirt, along the bottom of my breast for warmth. "How could they do this?! What is wrong with these people?!" I stormed to the nurses station and started to yell and shout at them but it had no effect. They just ignored me. I yelled at doctors. I yelled at nurses, but there was no reaction.

I went back and gathered up my other baby.

Again, the dream skipped forward in time. The next morning I was home in bed. In a large house with white walls and hardwood floors. There was a smile on my face, and somewhere in the background of the house, in another room, was a man I cared about. Not a husband, or a lover, but someone who was very close to me. He would be bringing in my babies soon. I laid back in the clean baby blue sheets and smiled. My babies would be here soon.

I had never breast fed them. Two days into their life and they had never had their mothers milk. "Could I even do it?" I wasn't supposed to be able to have babies, could I even feed them? I reached down and suckled my own breast, hoping to get it started for them, but nothing came out. Maybe it was something only they would know how to start right.

I would be with my babies soon. They could try. I would be with my babies soon.

For those of you who don't know. I have no chance of ever being able to have a child IRL.

In addition to my driving lisence, my dad decided I need to learn to fly as well. We bought a small airplane and installed an extra brake pedal for the driving teacher, just like in car, and while rolling around the city streets I naturally screwed up everything just like with car. When at one point I was getting the plane out from the hangar after parking practice, the hangar doors suddenly closed and the wings of the plane were cut off. My dad was furious for wings being cut off, and for me for showing my feelings as I beated my head against the controls. We got out from the plane, and I asked how I could have known the doors were going to close, and he shouted that such things just happen but that I'm still a fucking moron for screwing it up. I walked to my car outside the airfield area, and on the way I asked an american general if the airfield had any responsibility for that, but he said it doesnt so I told him to fuck off and burn in hell. As I got out from the gates, three Lada's drove through the fence. This place was so fucked up I decided to leave wherever I could, so I ran to one of them and got into the cars back seat. There were two russian generals sitting in the front seats, and one of them said "Who are you? Get away from here civilian!", but I said that I'm a prisoner who has just escaped from the americans, so they decided to take me with them. As we drove to their base, they sung russian national song, and I moved my lips to look like I'd know the lyrics.

  • Laser guitar: Last night's dreams were very convoluted, meshing into each other without making much sense at all. I'm pretty sure the overall story had something to do with a roleplaying game that was being played. Anyway, at one point, a few of us stumbled across a gizmo with four visible lasers on it; when you touched one of them, it reacted by playing a sound.
  • Roadtrip on the beach: We were in Maine, on some kind of road trip, looking for parking on the beach, because everyone was parked there. I'm pretty sure I was in my mother's car, and we were also trying to dodge cops who would have been mad that we were driving on the beach. Not much more of that made any sense, except that I'm pretty sure I recognize the beach from other dreams I've had at beaches. I've never been to a beach like this, but it's pretty detailed. Maybe it's a special soul place that I'll find someday.
  • Emotionless Data: This part was obviously part of the roleplaying game. I guess I was running it, and we were doing some kind of alternate reality Star Trek. Anyway, I took liberties with the guy playing Data; I told him that his emotion chip had not been turned on yet, so he was forced to play as monotonous as possible, with no emotions. Odd. Maybe I'm telling myself something; I regularly hide my emotions.

Dreamt that a mouse ran across my bed. I was lying on my stomach - the thing ran under my chest and away. It woke me up, but the odd thing was, it didn't upset me. I knew immediately that it was just a dream, and didn't need to look under the bed or around the room.

ufgnu / cwrongyn

Satori Stageplay

  • I watch from an omniscient perspective the performance of a unique stageplay about fear, paranoia and schizophrenia. The actors use psychological tricks in order to produce a genuine fear in the audience. In fact, a full half of the audience are actually actors in the play. You never actually learn who is who. This is used to great effect, turning true audience members to paranoid thoughts of conspiracy. Most of the lighting in the show uses a single spotlight on a dark stage, though there is no physical distinction between the audience area and the stage. In fact, though the script calls for the audience to be located on the stage and the actors to perform in the seats, the stage manager for this production has chosen a less overt demonstration by restricting the performance to the immediate front of the seats and among them.

    The performance continues, the story narrated by the main character not as a play but as a story told between friends; the audience is part of the play as participants and there is a lot of interaction initiated between the main character and the audience. Sometimes the narrative is non-linear, referring to events in the past tense that haven't happened yet. Sometimes certain scenes are repeated verbatim at different points in the play, sometimes back to back. The general story is this: a man (the main character) grows more fearful and more paranoid each day, believing that someone or something is out to get him. He knows that his friends (the audience) will think he sounds delusional and paranoid so he will tell the story, presenting the evidence as a series of first-hand experiences. These experiences then follow as minimal sets become lit up out of the darkness in which the memories of the main character play out. This series of strange encounters, synchronicities, mushroom trips, and more have the intended effect of scaring the audience. At the end and climax of the play, all lights are on and everyone who is an actor suddenly stands up as the theatre goes pitch black. Simultaneously, each actor speaks a different evil threat, overlapped by all the others. The intention as that each audience member will hear their own individual fear actualized ("your child is dead", "the cancer will kill you", "she hates you"). The non-audience actors disappear in the darkness, covered by the sounds of weeping. When the lights come on, the audience stands and slowly walks out. The program says this is the intermission but the doors are locked to get back into the theatre.

    The show isn't over when you think it is.

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