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DT: come reap
Posted on 2006.07.07 at 00:40
where am I: my room
How I feel about it all: weirdweird
Soundtrack: the voices in my head, apparently
Tags: ,
Okay, so I had a veryverystrange dream last night. (No, not THAT kind of dream. I don't seem to have those, much. Really, it was Weirdy McWeird. It was so disjointed I couldn't possibly describe it in anything resembling linear fashion.

Pretty much all that I can tell you is that it involved recreating some scripted thing which may or may not have been a fantasy movie (again, not THAT kind of fantasy. *sigh* Zathras can never ever have anything nice. But that's okay. Zathras has come to expect it.) which was also something real at the same time (at least according to the dream), part of which meant that I had to keep these two guys (don't ask me who they were) awake so they wouldn't die. Because, you see, one of them HAD died in some earlier version of this real/not real scenario, and apparently my job was making sure it didn't happen again. I think one of them actually had stripey pyjamas.


The dream even had guest stars! They were:

Jake Chambers William Moseley, who was being all nineteen and pretty and just-past-jailbait as he is wont to do, except he was the male version of a mermaid and lived in a fish tank. Oh, and had pretty tattoos.

Stella Kowalski. No, not THAT Stella Kowalski. The OTHER Stella Kowalski. If I remember correctly, she was wearing a sensible blue skirt suit and didn't seem to like me very much.1


There were other things, too, like children who both were and weren't part of the real/not real/possible film thing.

[Monty Python] I am a loony.[/Monty Python]



1 Fie on the Ebil Dream Makers who give me a Kowalski and it's Stella. You must Die, Ebil Dream Makers, Die, because you are So Not Paying Attention.

Comments:


peacey at 2006-07-08 07:46 (UTC) ()
I am of a mind to say that dreams are our mind's attempt to sweep away and/or deal with the straggly bits of untended unconscious thought left over from the day/week, and that they really don't have any hidden meaning. I used to believe otherwise, but changed my mind when I couldn't come up with any explanation as to why I would be throwing stolen green roses from a balcony at Elvis Presley while he gave a concert on a stage below me (a concert I arrived at sitting on a desk chair that I had shoved myself on - backwards - from home).

But yes, for reasons beyond the dream, you are looney. But loveably so. :)
try to catch the deluge in a paper cup
primroseburrows at 2006-07-09 00:39 (UTC) ()
(a concert I arrived at sitting on a desk chair that I had shoved myself on - backwards - from home).

d00d. You SO have to play Harry the Handsome Executive.


But yes, for reasons beyond the dream, you are looney. But loveably so. :)

Aww, I love you, too, devotchka. Such a lovely compliment. I think. ;)


But come on,now, Stella Kowalski? Why would my subconscious conjure her up when I coulda been a Contendah had Ray ?

*thwaps subconscious on silly head*
peacey at 2006-07-09 20:19 (UTC) ()
Definitely a compliment, luvvy. 'Tis a good thing to be on the slightly looney side of sane. Also, I am glad to see that someone, apparently consciously in this case, also sees the brilliance of wheeled swivel chairs. If my husband's hands molded to my ass with the same perfection of my swivel chair, I'd make casts of them and sit on nothing else.
try to catch the deluge in a paper cup
primroseburrows at 2006-07-10 02:07 (UTC) ()
I need a swivel chair. I haven't had one in months, and my arse is sore from sitting in an unpadded unwheeled straightback. Bleh.

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