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Yes hi does anyone want to interpret my weird as hell dreams for me

/bats eyelashes

*raises hand*

oh wow really? I’m not really sure it’s even something that would make sense >:

I mean, are dreams really supposed to “make sense”? :) I do a lot of dream journaling, so I don’t think anything you say will seem too weird to me.

Day 5 of Dream Journal:

I had captured the most intelligent man in the world and, working off of diagrams left to me by my predecessor, was about to undertake a complicated brain fluid exchange that would allow me to steal his brain power and become the most intelligent person instead.

The procedure involved injecting me and my victim with apple cider vinegar and milk. I was filling a syringe with vinegar when I realized I had no idea how to give someone an injection. Well, I thought, the most intelligent man in the world is a doctor, I can just force him to do it. But the fact that my syringe looked nothing like I thought a syringe was supposed to look bothered me. When I looked back through my notes for the fluid exchange procedure I remembered my science and realized that injecting vinegar into someone’s brain stem and putting milk in their bloodstream would do nothing to help my intelligence, though I had been convinced of the plan moments before. In fact, through further research I discovered my predecessor had died in agony after injecting himself in the brain with vinegar.

I went to the most intelligent man in the world and apologized for capturing him. He seemed to know that I would come to this conclusion eventually, said it was quite all right and gave me a lot of pastry.

Day 4 of dream journal:

Risked life to save cargo for a Canadian family of five, only to discover it was giant rabbit lawn ornaments. The family was convinced they’d make a killing on eBay, I was less enthusiastic.

(I’ve started writing down my dreams as a mood-tracking exercise, but so far all I’ve gotten is that my subconscious feels very unappreciated.)


The first sexual dream I ever had occurred when I was in my early teens, around the time I lost my virginity (although I cannot recall if it was before or after, and in truth, it does not matter). Much of it has faded, and yet three things remain: the person, the location, the weather.

My lover was male – his face is forgotten, although I recall his body well. We were together in an apartment building high above a city, in a large one-room studio that had polished wood floors and floor-to-ceiling windows on three sides. There was no furniture, no rugs, no wall hangings. Just us, up against the wall, the city lights bright and night sky dark, and shadows crossing the floor and striping across us as we came together.

My second dream, a few years later, was an altogether sweeter experience. A boy about my age, a tree-house, and delightful explorations and laughter. He was the prettiest man I’d ever seen, and his face stayed with me for many years.


Text of the Week: The Colt Has Interesting Tastes

I’ve had increasingly weird dreams lately. I told the Colt so in a text message this morning.

Me: I had zombie attack dreams. :-0

The Colt: ZOMBIES!

Me: Loads of ‘em. And me without my machine gun.

The Colt: I like zombie dragons.

Me: Learn something new every day.

Though, since this is the boy that has also expressed a liking for dragons in lingerie, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised?


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