revelation, of sorts.

i have decided that this isn't simply going to be a dream journal, but a mish-mash of that and notes about whatever may strike me at the time. perhaps even some prose, who knows.

underwater

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i was in a house, with a few people. it may have been my mom, steve, or matt's parents. there was a massive siren going, and the water kept rising and rising. we blockaded part of the house. it was dark, like permanent night. there were.. things.. in the water. creatures. long limbs, tentacles, scales, black as jet night and deep blue moonlight. they were not friendly, either. we eventually stayed within the garage of said house, trying to think of what to do. we heard there was a safe zone in the city, but then were told that it was false and that would lead us to doom. random neighbors came by every so often, panicking. we had the dog, we had the cat, and we somehow ended up with someone else cats. black and white, chubby, the black parts were streaked with silver tabby markings- beautiful. the dog escaped into the house, i panicked and had to go in for her.. the window in the living room was like a view beneath a swamp or groggy sea. black and blue of evening water, raising above the house outside and weird alienoid creatures swimming through it. i drew the shades and ran into the garage. we stayed there until a creepy old couple tried fucking with us, maybe killing us for supplies, and decided to leave towards city center. everyone else was.

somehow, we ended up at my ex-boyfriend, mark, his old place. we were happy to see eachother and made small talk. i think the cat we found was his, or his parents cat. there was a feeling of old emotions rekindling, and awkward moment. he was thinner than he is now but looked the same otherwise.

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then my friend called and i woke up. hm.

mj's incident?

i drank last night, and that means my dreams are scattered, very foggy and usually forgotten if i remember then at all within a short period of time. thankfully for celebrity apprentice and la toya jackson, i had a switch flip on and recall one small tidbit.

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michael jackson is running from a house, in his birthday suit. seriously, nothing on him. his body color is darker than his face, which is of course normally pasty white. it's an average caucasian skin tone. he is fleeing erratically and trying to hide himself, and there is the feeling of paparazzi and leering towards him. he is covering his special parts, and has his typical black shades on, and the only other thing on him is a little pink finger puppet(?) on his hand.

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step one.

so it begins.

i've always wanted to keep a dream journal, but i really despise writing.
the solution? thank goodness for the internet.

and, here we go..

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this was a scant dream, not much to be said. just little specific randoms i remember, here and there. i prefer dreams i remember in detail but it can't be helped, so here it is.

me, my friend ally, matthew and my ex-boyfriend terry. went to some drug dealers house. ally was annoyed that i was visiting with terry, and terry was overly affectionate. ally showed me a finger-condom blown up into a little bear-shape, and was excited, and i noticed there was coke in it. yeah, the drug. i said it was in there and she denied it. i went looking for her and found her sketching out at the random dealers house. matt drove me away in our old mojave van, and i find out he's on coke, too.

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