Category: Dream

  • Dream Journal: 2014-10-19.01

    Scene: Weaver’s private booth in the Café-on-Main. Weaver is drinking tea (WHUT!) while her boothmate is sipping from a bowl containing questionable liquids. It looks like frothy mud and smells like dirt. He is covered in swaths of saffron hued cloth. The cloth covers his face, obscuring him. He has just enough of his hands…

  • Dream Journal: 2014-10-17.01

    Dreamt I stood on the edge of a cliff overlooking a bottomless and unfathomable abyss. I held a black tarot deck in my hands. Laughing, I threw the unbound cards into the darkness. I watched the cards separate and flutter down out of sight.

  • Dream Journal: 2014-10-15.01

    It’s a parade! Everyone loves parades! I’m sitting in a reclining beach chair watching a line of Roman Catholic saints walk past. I recognize so very few of them, and know the names of even less. I’m not upset to see them. Something about their devotion to their cause is uplifting.

  • Dream Journal: 2014-10-14.01

    “Well…”, I said to myself last night. “Well, that wand isn’t coming back from the Path of Teth by itself. Enough being afraid of possible consequences, enough allowing other people’s words from distracting me. I’m going to go to Chesed, give my regards to Jupiter in whatever form he takes, and then go get my…

  • Dream Journal: 2014-10-13.01

    I opened my eyes on the sandy shore of the Ocean. I was not surprised to find myself here as I’ve been called on many carpets in the past twenty-four hours already. I could hear the Currents playing in the shallows. They occasionally splashed me as the tide came in.

  • Dream Journal: 2014-10-12.01

    Seeing that Marian icon so soon after waking up is not helping the brain meats. Not even recounting Mom’s bullshit from yesterday is helping me be all the way here. No neat plot line to follow, just a bunch of apparently unconnected scenes. *CUT*

  • Dream Journal: 2014-10-10.01

    I’m rushed by hundreds of wee little gnomes that looked the opposite of cute and charming. They led me to a gigantic outcrop of granite and pulled apart a crack in the vertical face they brought me to. I thought I knew where this was headed because of my dash, but instead of leading me…

  • Dream Journal: 2014-10-09.01

    Angels. I counted eight before their combined glory dropped me to my knees. If more appeared, I was unable to see them. I sensed no harmful intent towards me, but I had been dealing with some shit before they arrived, and those wounds were still raw. I raised a hand up to my face in…

  • Dream Journal: 2014-10-06.02

    It takes me a while to realize I am having a deep conversation about appearances, masks, expectations, and roles with the naked six-year-old boy with a golden sheen to his skin, sitting on a boulder so that we can face each other. His golden curled locks bounce when he nods to emphasize a point, and…

  • Dream Journal: 2014-10-06.01

    “Help me! Won’t anyone help me!” God fucking dammit, I’m such a fucking sucker at times. As I cross the street towards the anxious woman, I notice my feet aren’t touching the ground. I feel the texture of the asphalt where my feet would be touching, but I am in fact floating an inch above…