Cold Warpath
Auditioning for an old part
Best Use of Multimedia
Another Invention
Fossils
Nuclear Water Park
Phone Call
The Arts
Decorating
My Record Store
Go West
D:
Another Invention
Battling Girlfriends
Snuggles
Bestseller
Shoe Shopping
Reunited
Reunited
REM in REM
Pregnant with Secrets
Dreaming of Support
Private Pond
Playing with Makeup
Gun Warning
Girls
Incubus or hallucination? My sleep paralysis experiences.
Indestructible Barbie
The Point is the Point
Turtle
Composition
Sick Humour
Love Myself Better Than You
Alien Queen
Homeless s
...with desire
Films

drowning into thin air
Cemetary
Growing Pigeons
High School Sex Dream
Bon Jovi
Sleeping in his arms
Marilyn Manson in disguise
Pool Party
Sneaky rendez-vous
Nukes
tiny African masks
Do it yourself Drug Testing
Highschool? Penalty?
I'm a lazy horse's ass
Imaginary Friends
Morphine
self serve incompetency
webby anxiety
Kinky Simpsons
Ant Poison and Rat Turds
image in dream text
daydreamt nonchalant
Oprah
random scene changes
Tiny Room

Author: Javina





The dreams had certain commonalities: a sort of jerky/time lapse Super 8 film quality at times, but that was not because of any lack of clarity in my dream vision, it was the director's choice - they were all being filmed, but they were also all being filmed backwards so that the actors and I didn't know what would happen next, or first, if you get my drift, although the dreams themselves all came to (satisfying) conclusions.



All the landscapes were scattered with trinkets and junk and treasure - nuts and bolts to jewelry, but plenty of small objects strewn about. (No melting watches.) We would examine them occasionally, collect some, and in one house cleaned them up. We wore costumes, if we weren't already cartoons. Most bizarre was the action. They were quests, generally involving heights (carefully traversing snowy cliff ledges with plants that belonged in the sea, footbridges, and a rickety train on a track at least 200 metres off the ground) and there was always an saboteur doing everything from hosing us with water or blood to leading us the wrong way - but generally organic things. The sabateur was sometimes the director.