2005 06 01
Strange dreams while falling asleep on D's couch during the last few days. One where I've trapped the president of DoCoMo in a huge board room and I know that he's terrified of me. I look like I'm absolutely insane. And I've chased him here and locked the door and he knows that I'm about to do something terrible to him like make his greasy slippery body power a new fuel cell, a technology that hasn't changed in years, and what is that going to feel like? I look at him and try to understand through him the intense collapsing pressure inside the battery's vacuum cell, and I rush him and pat his pockets to see if he has a lighter, or matches, or stones, anything he could use to start a spark inside the vacuum cavern or start some kind of chain reaction with the acid in the battery chambers or waves of portable power.
I have this dream that takes place at the University, which is a common place for dreams lately. J and I are fucking, or there's sexual tension, and flags are popping up out of everything around us, and we decide to go outside and flags are popping out of the ground up and down the midway, flags linked by lines and tables and paragraphs like a word document or email in high resolution and I float up, high above the university, and I look down and see words I recognize from Dubliners spelled out in the city like a picture taken from a satellite? and I float there, in low orbit in space for 12 or 18 months.
The next day I fall asleep around 12 and I have this dream where I'm drinking syrupy juices over and over, searching through different parts of the house and everywhere finding another kind of cool delicious juice, and then I worry just slightly about drinking too much juice, since the fructose is worse for you than regular fruit and then I wake up. I open my computer, which says it's 3:39AM. My tongue touches the roof of my mouth and then the sides and they're all really dry and I open and shut my mouth a few times in disgust and then get up and drink some water from the sink in D's kitchen, momentarily thinking the water would be really good, since we're so close to the ocean, a pure source of water, but it tastes like regular tap.
2006 04 15
Some dream I have -- some garage I'm in, like a big warehouse with huge windows on the first floor at noon on a summer day and I'm sitting on a tweed combo, chicken pickin, thinking about schoolboy summer vacations, swimming pools, my SNES, finding a place that lets me feel comfortable. I have this yearning: I want to be "myself", but those characteristics which make up "myself" simply aren't very applicable to normal situations.
2006 03 28
I'm in a familiar room, in a corner. M is there and she asks me, "What sort of friendship is this? A platonic friendship? A friendship between sergeant and private? A--" and before she can finish I kiss her.
"Are you OK, Alex?" she asks. I try to hold up an OK signal. My nodding and polite smile are coded to convey conclusion and make her leave, which she does. I feel as if a long sleep of relaxation has been destroyed, and something has crept into the room as not to disturb me but it trips an alarm wire in my brain against its best attempt at furtiveness. I exit cautiously and ride my bike home, holding my head and almost crying in the bitterly cold wind. Tomorrow's duties seem so remote.
2013 06 10
I am footracing Dan, the anxious Armenian man from the third scene in 'Mullholland Drive' that takes place in 'this particular Winkies.' I win so easily. There is no way he can beat me. The point of view like a flying camera swings around to show me, from the front, soundly ahead, while he so laboredly, and the floor drops out into black jigsaw pieces, I fall and don't realize where I am until I find myself awake in bed.
2021 11 13
Woke up from a dream that I was packing my belongings into a van to move to Canada. I didn't have a plan; I didn't even have a map. "Vancouver -- isn't that close?" I just knew something terrible was about to happen -- stock market collapse, civil unrest, hyperinflation? -- and I had to get out now. But in reality there is no van. I've got 126$ in my bank account and I don't even really have a winter coat.
2014 12 02
A dozen of us had taken shelter in an abandoned Islamic temple. It rested on stilts which were fixed, a hundred stories up, to side of a mountain which overlooked a vast river valley.
We clustered together for warmth behind an emergency-orange FEMA guard rail on the roof. Below, tens of thousands of car-sized "byzantine monsters" scrambled across the plains carving up everyone that had remained trapped down there. A kid next to me was crying hysterically. No one tried to cheer her up. We were all too busy having the same realization at the same time: it was the end of mankind. There was just no uncertainty about it.
My ex girlfriend R was in the temple, but I never actually saw her. I just found a comic she’d made about how she had a crush on another survivor who'd come here with his mother; this angry woman I'd had a standoffish interaction with earlier. The comic recounted how, late one night, she snuck past the guy’s sleeping mother into the room where he was hiding out on a bed made of old tents and sheets, and amid the intensity of their secret tryst and the end of the world they had sex and, so the comic said, she felt normal for the first time in her life. I felt happy for her.
2005 04 28
Dream on Parvati Hill. Smoking together with A enveloped in a blanket, she grimaces and says my face is red and full of holes as an Indian Warhawk. I read all the EULAs; still I deserve to fail.
2017 11 29
wretched dreams last night. There was a large field in a remote country town. It must have been located in another universe because everything about the people who lived here — their dress, manners, tastes, delights, prospects — had attained to the point of the second World War and then froze in place for eternity. I knew that no one could die or age here. But it didn't make me feel safe.
Beyond the field there was a small hotel that the people had attempted to modernize for foreign guests. Electronics were allowed. And everything -- walls, tiles, bed, carpet, fixtures, sinks -- was covered in an 'attempt' at graffiti. I was in the bathroom looming over the clawfoot tub where J was sitting — possibly naked, though I saw nothing perverse -- with her legs thrown carelessly over the edge of the tub, feet dangling at my ankles. I reached for my overnight bag. What was I looking for inside of it...? Just an excuse to break her stare? She gazed right through me, expecting something, but with a dead, doll-like absence of any feeling or thought that I could detect... And somehow I knew I was going to have sex with her. The thought made me sick. Like we were endowed with magnetic fields of the same polarity, my emotions were repulsed from her being. Horseshoe magnets driven back by cold refusal; uncaring physics that said 'No' with no need for the word. But then somehow we were kissing. I was wincing, horrible nausea and stomach pain; turning away from myself in disgust into blackness as if shutting my eyes as her fingers went inside the collar of my shirt to touch my shoulder I found myself alone in the field from before the hotel. The magistrate of town was showing me their farm, pertaining to some official business purpose: Who leases what... which tracts dedicated to agriculture... I remembered I had been brought here in the capacity of a witness to a court case. I had seen a crime committed here many years ago. I was not myself in trouble. I smelled the grass pollen and animals and felt steadied again by my duty. But then, a few yards away past some grazing horses and dogs, I saw a girl in a dress play-dancing with a string of flowers on the end of a baton. Thirteen -- twelve, even? Immediately the need to vomit overtook me again.
We were all standing before a cobblestone well after this. The girl pulling up a bucket of water from the spring below. I was panicking; hunting frantically for any excuse to leave and I think that's when I woke up.
2005 01 26
A ton of people taking a plane to Champagne. But something happens, and people have to start getting off. People's names are on their windows. Windows with names painted in red are windows of people with super powers. The guatamalan girl is there.
People punch through their windows and get sucked out into the sky. I do this. I get sucked out into the sky. At first I see no one, but then my parachute opens. The plane flies around us and herds a lot of us into a big group, and we all fall into the ocean together.
Then we're in Champagne. We're all in a line together. I give a highfive to this guy as we're walking, overjoyed that everyone survived. I see the guatamalan girl, and want to go ask her her name.
2006 03 06
Dream I'm on stage at a concert during O-week and a a snake touches my shoulder. I whip around in the middle of the song and see it's recoiled just as quickly into the gallows of a tall and foreboding dru tree. Into the mic I'm saying "Turn up the house lights" as thin shards of lead rain down on me from the white branches. I wake up at 9am, go for a jog, and reflect on cutting my hair.
2021 12 17
It wasn't that she said any dialogue in particular I can remember. She was just standing so close to me. No psychological boundary. No water under the bridge anymore between us, and she embraced me. Earlier in the dream I'd been under the impression she had somewhere else to be after getting coffee, but now her nose touched the nape of my neck, over my shoulder she said "Do you want to go back to your place?" Instantly I worried: was this my one chance to be happy again? The heater bangs and I wake up in bed. Blinking, reach for my phone, a notification: "Look back on this day, 6 years ago:" It's a picture of the Wiltern.
MILEY CYRUS & HER DEAD PETZ
SOLD OUT
SATURDAY DECEMBER 18
