I like to indulge my dreams. Not like "I have a dream" dreams, although I have those too. I just don't indulge them like I indulge the kind that you wake up from and are like "What the fuck was that?":
2-16-07
In a space station. Me, the boy, and the girl. Wanted for some ambiguous crime against the police state in which we live. Tarot cards stuck to the metal walls of room. Impending doom (The Devil). Then I look out the window at spore-producing space creatures spinning like mines through a littered ocean. We go through customs, the three of us. The boy is recognized by the tattoo on his back. Escape (The Tower). The boy hides in a closet in a hospital and sucessfully escapes. The girl is apprehended but strikes a deal to testify against the boy and I. I am jailed for treason against the people, being recognized at a poker table as I lose a game of cards (The Wheel of Fortune, inverted).
The boy lived a life in exile (The Hermit). The girl went on to play a primary role in destroying the spore-producing bodies which turned out to threaten humanity. And me? I woke up.
3-26-07 (The dream of the movie called "8 Children.")
See the townsman. 17th century. Religious. Hard worker. He moves out at dawn to draw water at a nearby well.
He finds 4 children, strangers, wide-eyed, not from around here, standing by the well, by the bucket, in the clearing surrounded by aspen and brush and oak.
The good man talks to the children. Inexplicable carpet of pine needles underfoot. They do not respond. The preacher comes with his arms outraised in his gowns and his voice thundering down at them like some practiced pervert saying, "come here in the name of god." They say nothing, nor do they move. The woman from town who comes, a mother of two and good wife--they frighten her away with their stone silence, with their dull, neglected, huge eyes and expressionless faces. She runs away as a good Christian woman must.
The good man approaches the children. They show signs of torture and sexual molestation. The welts, the scars, the pale punctuated nothingness in their countenance. The nihilism.
Fast-forward 6-8 years: The children have been brought into the community and are well-adjusted. A happy ending. They do work on a farm and are treated well.
Then there is a report that four more children have been found, stark and blank, at the same well.
(Note: This was one of the most critically-acclaimed movies of the year.)
3-27-07 (This is verbatim from my journal because I remember nothing of the dream):
I was a computer except I was human and had travelled to southern California. A professor was there and told me how beautiful the landscape, the scenery was. Conflicting thoughts. I was not sure whether I could, as a computer, appreciate landscape, beauty.
The girl who took care of me, whom I loved, would always offer me coffee. I only wanted water. She was trying to get ahold of an ancient floppy disk which had the information for a certain game that would explain my existence if completed successfully. After ditching me to hang out with other people, she did end up finding the disk, and I thrived at the game. I had two avatars--a small reptile as well as the severed head of a rodent.
When we were done playing, I had to recover both avatars and keep them with me so no one would steal them.
Oh yeah, beyond dreams, I'm a grad student studying to be a nurse practitioner. So that's me.
