all about dreams
1.
this is from my boss:
so I talk in m sleep. apparently. so my wife tells me that in my sleep, sometimes I'll start saying, "monsters." Just, "monsters."
Sometimes, "monsters with knives," over and over again, and on really bad days, "monsters. monsers with flamethrowers."
but then on good days I'll lie perfectly still. "monsters....cute monsters."
2.
In my dream last night, I was in Aggie's kitchen. I've never seen Aggie's kitchen but it looked just like mine when I lived in the doems, only yellower. I think there was fake wood trim. Gus was there, a couple random girls. One of them fished into a backpack on the floor and pulled out that familiar orange bottle. She popped the safety lock and started to pour gelcaps onto a table. They were half blue, half yellow, like the waterbugs that used to plague lake Michegan but died off sometime in adolescents.
They were tabs, LSD chewables that tasted like Sweet Tarts. I ate four. And splurged on another, because it tasted so good.
She wasn't even charging.
We sat around, watching bad movies, but more than that staring at the ceiling, at textures, at windowsill caulk cracking and spreading like vines.
A blonde girl pulled out a syringe.
"I want us all to do some heroin."
"No thanks, give mine to Gus."
Things got silly. Gus drew in some blood and the needle spat it out. I've seen porn that ends just like that but, without the needle. i thought she gave mine to Gus. Things got silly and she started chasing me around the dininglivingroom. I was out of breath, my head spinning when the needle dropped from her sleeve and she plugged it into my hand. The syringe was only half full so I assumed it was just a half dose. I would be fine. She pricked me with a dirty needle but...I would be fine.
After a half hour I was on the floor. Reeling. A bit.
"So," I thought calmly, "I'm doing heroin."
I can see why people like this. I'm fucked up on acid but I'm clear headed enough to comprehend it.
I still couldn't talk for shit.
This is nice, nothin special.
And I slept til morning.
3. The best dream I ever had was about six minutes long.
When I was seven, I used to sleep with the lights and the radio on. Most of the other kids listened to B96 but I liked Z95.
I was in a diner, the Love Shack I presume because that's what song was playing, by the B-52s of course. It was a 1950's style diner at the top of the incline at Western and Touhy and I was drinking a malt. There were girls. Women.
On the other side of the table was Oroku Saki, the Shredder sworn enemy of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, in full samurai gear. I told him what I thought of him because, an enemy of the Ninja Turtles is an enemy of mine as well. He was outraged and set forth a challenge.
Wo would race skatebords to the bottom of the incline, just short of the lake. Whoever got there first was the winner. I played it cool on my board while he started out with no equilibrium, probably on account of the heavy and restrictive metal armor. Soon, he evened out and we were moving faster than anything I've ever seen, dodging potholes and dogs and fallen branches. I broke through the checkered flag first and he fell to his knees, anguished. Somewhere, blood was pouring down his arm.
The women, all tall, celebrated me, and I woke up, possibly because there was nothing left to do, as a six year old eric strom has no concept of what to do with a grown up woman.
Either way. In the dim of my small bedroom on Sherwin Avenue. I woke up disappointed.
this is from my boss:
so I talk in m sleep. apparently. so my wife tells me that in my sleep, sometimes I'll start saying, "monsters." Just, "monsters."
Sometimes, "monsters with knives," over and over again, and on really bad days, "monsters. monsers with flamethrowers."
but then on good days I'll lie perfectly still. "monsters....cute monsters."
2.
In my dream last night, I was in Aggie's kitchen. I've never seen Aggie's kitchen but it looked just like mine when I lived in the doems, only yellower. I think there was fake wood trim. Gus was there, a couple random girls. One of them fished into a backpack on the floor and pulled out that familiar orange bottle. She popped the safety lock and started to pour gelcaps onto a table. They were half blue, half yellow, like the waterbugs that used to plague lake Michegan but died off sometime in adolescents.
They were tabs, LSD chewables that tasted like Sweet Tarts. I ate four. And splurged on another, because it tasted so good.
She wasn't even charging.
We sat around, watching bad movies, but more than that staring at the ceiling, at textures, at windowsill caulk cracking and spreading like vines.
A blonde girl pulled out a syringe.
"I want us all to do some heroin."
"No thanks, give mine to Gus."
Things got silly. Gus drew in some blood and the needle spat it out. I've seen porn that ends just like that but, without the needle. i thought she gave mine to Gus. Things got silly and she started chasing me around the dininglivingroom. I was out of breath, my head spinning when the needle dropped from her sleeve and she plugged it into my hand. The syringe was only half full so I assumed it was just a half dose. I would be fine. She pricked me with a dirty needle but...I would be fine.
After a half hour I was on the floor. Reeling. A bit.
"So," I thought calmly, "I'm doing heroin."
I can see why people like this. I'm fucked up on acid but I'm clear headed enough to comprehend it.
I still couldn't talk for shit.
This is nice, nothin special.
And I slept til morning.
3. The best dream I ever had was about six minutes long.
When I was seven, I used to sleep with the lights and the radio on. Most of the other kids listened to B96 but I liked Z95.
I was in a diner, the Love Shack I presume because that's what song was playing, by the B-52s of course. It was a 1950's style diner at the top of the incline at Western and Touhy and I was drinking a malt. There were girls. Women.
On the other side of the table was Oroku Saki, the Shredder sworn enemy of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, in full samurai gear. I told him what I thought of him because, an enemy of the Ninja Turtles is an enemy of mine as well. He was outraged and set forth a challenge.
Wo would race skatebords to the bottom of the incline, just short of the lake. Whoever got there first was the winner. I played it cool on my board while he started out with no equilibrium, probably on account of the heavy and restrictive metal armor. Soon, he evened out and we were moving faster than anything I've ever seen, dodging potholes and dogs and fallen branches. I broke through the checkered flag first and he fell to his knees, anguished. Somewhere, blood was pouring down his arm.
The women, all tall, celebrated me, and I woke up, possibly because there was nothing left to do, as a six year old eric strom has no concept of what to do with a grown up woman.
Either way. In the dim of my small bedroom on Sherwin Avenue. I woke up disappointed.
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