I can't remember my dream fully but there was a counter or bakery of some sort that had lots of different kinds of pastries. I was after some sweet ones but they largely had cheese and pizza-type scrolls and mini-pizzas. They all looked delicious.
This dream was a big adventure dream, but because I didn't write it down as soon as I woke up, I forgot a big portion of it, alas.
It's funny: just heard on the radio yesterday that this particular ex is doing a poetry reading, and then I dreamt about him.
We were in some strange place, that sort of reminded me of high school, but wasn't really. I saw my old ex and we started seeing one another again. It was different this time. I cared a lot less about how he acted as a partner.
I didn't hear from him for a few days. I didn't mind. @rob_caporetto offered to look him up online and find out what he was doing. I said, don't, I don't want people to see you looking him up. He said he could do it in a way that no one would know.
He looked him up, and without my permission, went up to my ex and told him he was treating me badly and should be ashamed of himself and that I didn't deserve to be treated in such a fashion.
My ex approached me after a few days when we were in the same room. I nodded at him casually, not wanting to disturb him. He told me what happened and I was furious. He started cuddling another girl. I didn't mind. When he saw that I didn't care, he desperately tried to get my attention again, and tried to get me to care. I told him it was probably best things were over.
Silly life. Getting in the way and me not being able to jot down my dreams!
I remembered some crucial bits to my dream before this one, then of course forgot them. This day's dream I can only remember one part of.
I had an abnormally large forehead, and it was covered in wispy hair. Someone had covered my forehead in shaving foam and was getting ready to shave it completely clean.
Pranav Mistry: The thrilling potential of SixthSense technology
Quite some convoluted dreaming. Let's see how I go with getting them down.
Again, on some sort of school or family-type camp. I think we're in the Philippines. I'm spending a few days some family friends for some sort of special occasion - I can't remember which exactly.
The next part of the special occasion requires myself and my brother to fly to Auckland to take part in some video game-inspired tournament. We can't go, as we can't afford to. Also, I'm looking after my family friends' siblings as they are too lazy to. I have to pack up my room at camp, as well as theirs and we all have to be out by 5pm. I also have to pack up my mother's room. I'm stressed.
They fly off to New Zealand and I feel very lonely. So lonely that I want to spend time with my mother but she has to go to work. I begin to wander around the Philippines and go to some shopping centre. I'm sifting through comics and Peanuts stickers when I stumble across a class for children. They are doing some sort of improv/theatre workshop. I see 'Oulipo' mentioned and jot down the title of the book they are working from which is translated from Italian. The teacher invites me to talk about Oulipo.
They peer at my legs and bind them and ask me to pirouette. I tell them that my legs do not have hair because I felt it kinder to those who might see them, in the heat of the Australian sun.
I suddenly found myself in my old village. There were lots of bars. I went to one and ordered a pint of Carlton Draught and the bartender said it was the last one left. I didn't want to drink the last one, so I told him I'd be back when I had money and would order something else. I thought about calling @casus_belli to see if he fancied an impromptu drunkard session.
* * *
Then all of a sudden, I was dining and drinking with @rperdio and @tristankenney. Ryan took us to some swanky joints and I found myself at a table with my old schoolmates - Evan, Damien, Frank, Steven M. Someone was marrying Jane and they were cutting glass bowls to steal. I disapproved but drank my gorgeous alcoholic drink.
Two dreams this morning.
At first, I was in a mansion. There were some beautiful bathrooms in the mansion. I had left some articles of my clothing in one of the bathrooms, one which was specifically for me.
I returned later and noticed that the toilet and my trousers had faeces smeared on it. It turned out to be my grandmother who had done it - she'd used the toilet carelessly and didn't bother to clean it up. I was furious.
My mother told me to leave the toilet and use her bathroom and that she would clean my toilet for me.
My father rescued a rogue rabbit. It was a little more violent than the other rabbits we had. My mother made my father get rid of it and I cried, even though I was an adult. She put it in a cloth bag and when I shook out the bag, two rabbit embryos popped out. I told myself I wouldn't forgive my mother for turfing out a pet just because it was 'difficult'.
* * *
I was at a library, and apparently it was part of RMIT. I went and asked the librarian for specific books and he told me I couldn't get them. He gave me alternative ones instead, by John Keats, and Fanny Brawne. They were tiny. Then they told me that I couldn't borrow them. I tried to hide them behind some books.
I was having a lot of trouble finding a decent spot to hide them in, and then Will Smith busted me and started filming me.
A bit of insomnia and general interrupted sleep means I haven't been remembering my dreams as much of late. In fact, some nights it's like I haven't dreamt at all (science tells me this is unlikely? will have to look into that more).
* * * *
Because I took a nap this afternoon, I've largely forgotten my dream.
What I do remember is that for some reason, @joshsharp and I were having a conversation, probably involving @tristankenney. I can't remember what the specifics of the conversation were, but it seemed that it was largely about him, given that we both know him.
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
- The Second Coming, William Butler Yeats
A large house in a large building in the middle of a large city serves as a refuge. When we are there, we are happy. When we are there, we are safe. Innocent people ring the doorbell, knock on the door, eager to escape the post-apocalyptic slum and the the savage humans who have fallen victim to the disease. Inside, it feels like a college dormitory. Young twenty-somethings having a good time. Living the facade of a life we once had. Sometimes we leave, though I don't know why. I suppose we have to get food, supplies, maybe even go to work. But there's always someone standing at the door of the large house, waiting to let us back in. Waiting to save us.
We are in love, you and I. One day, something goes wrong. We leave the large house (why did we leave? I will later wonder) We know we cannot return (but why?) We know something bad is going to happen. If we're going to meet face to face with the savages, if we're going to succumb to their bite, to the disease, we will do so together. We will not leave each other behind. Never. I won't leave you, I say. I won't leave you, you say, as we are being cornered. We don't bother to fight. This is our destiny. Sullenly, we are defeated. But we are not alone.
We cannot return to the large house. Now we are one of them, and the humans are our enemies, and our food. We live among the savages. But we are still able to feel. We are not monsters. Not yet. It is not our choice to feed on the humans, it is necessity. The inner change from a human to a savage is gradual. Since this is the beginning, we do not relish this life, we lament it.
The large house has changed. The humans who inhabit it are fighting more and more. We must open our doors for everyone, we must try to save everyone we can, even if it puts us in greater danger, argues one of the inhabitants. No, argues another, we must keep ourselves and each other safe, we cannot save everyone, ultimately it will backfire. This arguing continues. The inhabitants are no longer happy. They no longer feel safe. They do not know it yet, but they are doomed.
You and I, we wander the woods on the edge of the large city with our own questions, our own debate. How long can we continue on like this? We are cognizant like our former human selves, thus we are morally opposed to the choices we make as savages. We remember our days at the large house. We know we cannot endure this for all of eternity, and, as savages, we could very well revel in our immortality. As long as we fight off the humans, as long as we consume their flesh and their blood, we will live forever. We will forever be condemned to this baseless life, we will continue to lose our humanity, slowly, slowly, and take on the mentality of the rest of the savages:
Kill. Eat. Fight.
Tears fall from my eyes, you wipe them away. We know what we have to do. We are in this together. We will never be alone. Together as humans. Together as savages. Together as we die. We'd rather die with love in our hearts, than live without it.
The humans in the large house, they are succumbing. In their struggle to resist the savages, they are losing their humanity.
You grab my hand and we start walking. We leave the woods and return to the large city. We are hungry, but we will not eat. We are scared, but we will not fight. We know eventually we will come across a group of humans. They will fear us, and that fear will materialize in the swing of a machete or the blast of a double barrel shot gun. But we are ready. We will die before we succumb.
