August 2006 Archives
they say documentation helps the lucidity. what better place than a public blog?
last night: helen and i were looking to build a house. we found a small island that was perfect, like in lost, but much smaller. except that before we even started to build, we'd upset a nest of wasps on the ground and a hive of bees in a tree. they all swarmed, but it wasn't terrifying.
the building of the house is hazy, but we lived there for only a little while (always in fear of the wasps chewing their way in) when the flood came. our house was just high enough that only the lower floor flooded, but the upper story(ies?) had many holes in the floors, almost like wells. and outside wasn't pretty ocean any longer. now we were surrounded by the beach at normandy, barbed wire, czech hedgehogs, corpses and all. also: wasp attacks (finally).
obviously we had a friendly dolphin as a pet. friendly dolphin now shows up very badly damaged and partially mutilated, gives us a sad look and heads straight into the deep. i knew i had to rescue the friendly dolphin, but i didn't want to go in the water. in addition to all the corpses i knew there were monsters.
they say that one way to counter nightmares is with lucid dreaming. this means that bad dreams may be fought with consciousness imported from the waking world. perhaps that unholy anxiety you face as you're stalked by a faceless haunt is only your perspective. turn around. maybe your shadow is simply trying to pass on valuable information. even welcome news. you'll never know until you convince your sleeping mind to do something. only it's hard, because sometimes the dreams are bad enough that nothing could ever convince you to put this theory to the test.
you'll wake up screaming eventually...
not me. i wake up gasping for breath.
apnea could be responsible. also klonopin withdrawal. also creativity. sensuality. psychosis. sensitivity. stress. etc. most adults don't have nightmares. the odds are roughly 16:1 against. i'd feel lucky if i hadn't watched me play so much poker.
last night was escape. not a camp, but more like a city abandoned by all but the most expendable. brutality. fear. not as bad as two nights ago. experimentation. vivisection. compromised children. dreams within dreams. escapes that were nothing of the sort. fantasy and need fused into madness. violence without result, and the resulting fear, contempt and shame.
it makes me afraid to go to sleep. my old friend darkness has never been so guilty by association.
that's the intersection of franklin and eagle. somebody's turning kid troy's old building into a movie studio. sounds cool, but it's mostly a pain in the ass. our cabs can never get through the sets. helen had to get the police to escort her home tonight because the dirty evil film-making bastards wouldn't let her pass.
my grandma told me: if you call it a suck out, it's likely just a bluff you ought not to have called.
this was only a nickle and dime table, mind.
damn. our mrs. reynolds is the best forty-five minutes of television ever.
what is it that requires every video game ever made to have a sewer level? do level designers all have scat fetishes? wtf?
god, i hate the sewer level.
the jello wrestling starts at seven forty-five. we do a twenty minute set at eight o'clock, then ten more minutes at nine-twenty at the end of the first half.