; Dreams

Just your basic dream journal. I will attempt to record all of my dreams here, no matter how mundane or humiliating they may be.
Keep in mind, I wake up and crawl to the computer and write these before coffee, tea or anything so yeah, they're a mess. Enjoy.

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Location: Sacramento, California, United States

Sea Monkey devotee since childhood.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Two Nights of Dreams

Dave is trying to get in front door, but I get there just in time and push the door closed, he pushes back but I get it closed and bolted. He runs to the back door, I do the same. This time he wins the pushing contest. He beats me up. I don't remember much of the fight, just flashes of trying to smash his head into the ground and such. I'm beat up, I call the cops, it should be pretty open shut, crazy fucker, and Dave is a crazy fucker, forces his way into my house and beats me up. When Dave pulls out his acoustic guitar and plays a number for the cops it seems things might go his way. One cop describes a scenario in which I could be the guilty party. Maybe I went to Dave's house and attacked him and he kicked my ass there and then I lured him here so that I could call the cops and say that he beat me up here. I'm frustrated but eventually they do take Dave away as he's not able to keep up the illusion that he isn't totally fuckin' nuts for very long.

Two Days Ago
Bryna's left me, though technically she's just taking a break, we're taking a break. I'm sure there's another guy. I'm bothered by how unemotional she seems to be. She gets a job at Capitol Aquarium. I am working for Scott making jewelry. We each have a new apartment, mine is over Scott's shop. I don't want to slip in it because it's scary. it's brown and nebulous, I don't know where it ends, it just goes on and on. I think it's residual form another dream that I only remember flashes of, but I do remember a crazy building that's all brown inside and a mess of rooms and hallways that blend together.
I run to work, early in the morning, through a bad neighborhood. I think that if I look like a jogger out for a jog I'm less likely to be fucked with than if I look like a guy going to work, like somehow I'll be more intimidating if I'm less working class. I worry about getting into the shop, I wonder if I have keys, I figure I don't as Scott wouldn't have given me keys. I figure I must have keys to my own apartment though and It's right upstairs, so I can go in there for an hour or two. I'm scared to be outside, but the apartment's scary too. It feels really good to run. This part of the dreams goes on a-long time, running, enjoying the site of the ground going by beneath my feet.


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