holy/hell

.....(long excessive dream introduction)
i am with a friend from elementary school, Stephen. He is pale and red haired. I associate him with ron from harry potter. We are in an old irish or english home. After doing some weird dream shit with floating candles, we are sitting at the base of an old wooden, creakedy staircase. at the top of the stairs the door opens to a kitchen where an overweight women is working.

"you know you are great. you are destined for greatness, there's no avoiding it. why don't your let people know? why won't you let yourself be." he says. i am sitting with my back to the top of the stairs. as he is explaining and asking i get tense and nervous. i start to cry. i do a paranoid back check, looking behind me up the stairs and into the kitchen. "because what i'm destined to be great at, people will want to hurt me for."
he looks at me with revelation in his eyes. "that's right. he had said tha..." a woodcarving tool comes shooting through the open door at the top of the stairs, hitting him dead center in the forehead. i leap to block it, but am too late. blood blends red with his hair and trickles over his blue eyes. i quickly 'bless' the other two people we are with and feel awful for not doing this sooner.

i wake myself up to avoid conflict. once awake, i consider going back to sleep and starting the dream just before the blade was thrown and to stop it so i could hear what he was going to say. I decide not to. no sense in putting yourself in a hostile situation. I am sick of bloody dreams.


(((((((earlier dream)))))))))
looking to sex an attractive white male who is down to sex me (no use on wasting my *mental energy* on someone who's going to be difficult). mark with green light. encounter too young of a someone. new criteria - 21+ - marked by blue light.

i find some dude, he is crossing the street with three girls. he is wearing a camel colored jacket. i whisper in his ear. he smiles and tells the girls he'll catch up with them in five minutes. oh great! that's not time at all. i get us in cab.
we share a cab with some strangers. end up in a hotel
i find a way to get a room for free
room 32.
we're going to the room. people from the cab are coming down the hall. my sex toy boy is starting to deflate. i try to hold him up straight as they pass so they won't be suspicious of us. soon he deflates all the way. i am holding a limp suit wearing skin out in front of me by the shoulders with the thumb and middle finger of each hand. i decide it'd be best for me to drape it over my arm. if anyone asks i'll say it's his dry cleaning.


SEX IN DREAMS
Sex is a fickle little battle in dreams. the dream very quickly becomes what it's not about, by which i mean the subject i want it to be about (which most often times is sex.). this is quite unfortunate. When this happens, i am forced to wake up, go back to sleep and try again. When i do finally find a willing young man (sometimes there are no people in the dream and i am super horny...that or there are people, just no one sex worth) and we get busy, things may or may not go as i had planned. i regularly wake myself up by spending too much mental energy trying to improve the situation (upgrading his assets, changing the scenery). When it's great, something else in the real world wakes me up. That or it's just plain great. This is the ideal.

i may or may not throw up.

real life: i turn on music and lay down for a 10 minute nap. while i'm asleep the song "bye bye butterfly" by pauline oliveros comes on.

(this song:
(only seven minutes long)

in my dream. i am in a chalky white auditorium. we are sitting on a podium listening to sound pieces. alex is behind me. my performance professor is to my right. the song is piercing, haunting. i tilt the podium forward and we all fall, synchronized, like this was planned or expected, our hands catch us in front of our chests. i rise back up. everyone follows my lead. the lights are dim and we begin to dance. the song progresses slowly, or movements follow. lauren is to my right.

i am literally weightless on my feet. i hover. levitate above the ground. i cannot feel the ground when my feet touch it but it's there, shining chalky white. our reflections are vague in the window. we are wearing black cat suits. lauren begins to levitate as well. we all do, higher and higher. a few girls touch the ceiling with their heads. when they do the room is flooded with bright warm light. our energy is booming. our focus unparalleled. i float to touch the cieling with my head. i can't get quite high enough. i push off the floor, which i can't feel below my feet and finally make it. the dance crescendos and on lookers are pleased. there is a great finale.

we are finished and breathless. the room again dark. in the front row we are laying on our bellies. i look behind me to two kneeling girls talking behind me. there is something that resembles nailpolish on my back. i identify it as drying blood, but have no idea where it came from. the girls are as confused as me. where did this come from. i thought, maybe i cut myself. i see blood streaks on the arm of another girl. we were really into it. i see random drips of blood on the floor. this is not our blood. there is too much. the drips increase to converge at puddle where the floor meets the wall. i follow it up. on a metal wall fixture a lifeless body is draped. dressed in a black catsuit like me. dressed in a black catsuit like everyone else with her body draped dead and wet and bleeding. her head dangling. the song pierces haunting operasings and my heart stops working. the lights are still off and no one sees.


what monsters am i with? how could i have led this dance
i turn away horrified (which is not the correct word).
the lights turn on and i hear the horrible screams of revelation with my eyes shut.

i am awake and i am crying and i may or may not throw up.

everything in this store comes from the family

ghosts paint themselves to avenge love unrequited