Here there be monsters (socratic) wrote,
Here there be monsters
socratic

  • Mood:
  • Music:

Dream a little dream for me. Leave out the pickles.

Apparently it is possible to have a nightmare about your dream.

You see, I don't have normal nightmares. I don't get chased by the Alien or have a vagina bite my penis off like a healthy well-adjusted individual. I have complicated and lengthy nightmares with multiple settings, deeply personal fears unearthed, and a head full of sand when I wake up. It's kind of like I felt when I realized that no matter what I accomplished or who I managed to seduce I'd still have to wake up every day in bed with myself.

It took place in Hollywood, a city full of nightmares and tragedy. Not to mention, in my dream, a lot of really poor color choices on the houses. There was fuscia. Fuscia on the walls. That would have been bad enough, but there was other stuff. I was looking for work, but every job I took I ended up in front of the camera instead of behind it, and I was universally awful. I was treated like crap and as a pawn in power games between producers. One guy whose house was being rented for a shoot turned out to be obsessed with my father, believing he was still alive and a traitor to his country for China. I had to climb a lot of stairs. At one point I filled an entire basement with broken jars of rotting pickles and was forced to clean it up myself. It was all very fractured and strange and I woke up with mixed feelings since I was no longer being asked to step into a Chris Farley role in a really bad movie but then again I was no longer in the business.

Also I didn't have half a ton of rotting pickles to clean up
Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 0 comments