Couple of weeks ago I complained to everyone who couldn't run away from me, that I dreamed of using the bathroom. Not one of those dreams where the body is trying to tell the brain to wake up and use the bathroom, but an actual dream of using the bathroom: I got off the bed, went to the bathroom, pooped and came back. There was nothing surreal about it, it was totally my bathroom, the time flow was normal and it was ... a realistic dream of going to the toilet.
And I thought: for the love of fuck, brain, of all the things in creation or yet-creation you can dream, THAT is what you chose to go photorealistic on??
The brain took this to heart. I've had several storeams since - for the uninitiated, stoream is a dream with a coherent story, start to finish, no bizarre bending and a satisfactory closure - much like a movie from within. Today, I dreamed of a night of Purge in the capital of my country. I had to get to the train station and get to my dentist, where G was waiting.
It started perfectly okay, nobody cared much about anything, nobody was wild, people were going about their business. Our country has an extremely low crime rate and nobody really feels like doing much of it, bar a bunch of confused teenagers who have always dreamed of smashing some glass or something. An elderly group - two brothers and their wives sort of adopted me in the rain to take me under their umbrellas to an underpass where a gallery and a cultural event was taking place. They were having some debates and the old man, once I said my goodbyes to leave, reached to me with 50 bucks in his hand. The mayor of the city, seeing this, wanting to be cool and friendly, also shoved 50 bucks in my hands for all those posh people to see. I considered the hard cash for a bit, but decided I am no longer a hitchhiker who needs hand-outs, and laughed, returning the money, saying: don't give me cash! Give me books! (In reference to a nice book one of them, I think the mayor, was holding.) Later, when we parted ways a few streets before the train station, the old man vanished for a minute, only to return with a thick folder-like book from an antique store. His brother, who did not seem to approve, cried: no, don't buy her The Leaves!... It seemed that this was the biggest book the old man could find, an encyclopedia of vintage illustrations of foliage. I joked with the women that they are clearly brothers and they explained how they both work for the same company, of which the elder (the complaining one) was a manager.
I left to hurry on, but as the night was almost through, I began to realize that, albeit most people didn't care for outdoors at this hour usually anyway, those who needed a bit of chemical stimulation have by now gotten feisty and for the first time ever, walking around in unfamiliar, poorly lit streets in the transportation section of the city, I did not feel as cool as I would. I began being followed by people toying with kitchen knives, almost surprised to see a fool like me outside, and almost getting kind of tempted. It was like wild animals - if I ran, they would chase. The fog caused the train station lights to create a sort of a glow and I could see the silhouette of the landmark statue behind the buildings, but for now, I needed to get out of plain sight and stop posing as a temptation. Why risk one small thing following another? My train was in a few minutes, though.
In one of the apartments in the building I hid, I met with a girl who walked around with a broken piece of plastic, trying to match it against various objects, but it wasn't until we hurried outside that we found this was not something she was scrapping but a bit of a bender she tore off her boyfriend's car and he was now chasing her in rage with his gang. Things were getting more heated. We saw a man trying to rape a woman on the hood of his Audi, but the gang got to him and glued his dick shut with superglue. Cops started being active again and driving fast around the empty city, ignoring pedestrians, so it was kind of dangerous to cross some streets. A cordon of shield-wielding policemen faced off with some riot, and while avoiding their clash, we got into a kill zone of a sniper who was after my girl companion, though she was wearing a helmet she found. I left her to deal with her problems while I try to catch the train.
I finally made it to the dentist and the nurse was as friendly as always, but I caught a glimpse of the doctor and he seemed to be in a tremendous backpain. I thought great, nothing like an overworked, exhausted dentist to deal with my brittle teeth. As always the nurse asked me to wait outside for the pain medication to take hold. Outside in the waiting room, all the people from the night accumulated and were cranky and restless. I found the General among them, waiting for me, and showed him the pretty book I was given by friendly strangers, telling him about my Purge experience.
And I thought: for the love of fuck, brain, of all the things in creation or yet-creation you can dream, THAT is what you chose to go photorealistic on??
The brain took this to heart. I've had several storeams since - for the uninitiated, stoream is a dream with a coherent story, start to finish, no bizarre bending and a satisfactory closure - much like a movie from within. Today, I dreamed of a night of Purge in the capital of my country. I had to get to the train station and get to my dentist, where G was waiting.
It started perfectly okay, nobody cared much about anything, nobody was wild, people were going about their business. Our country has an extremely low crime rate and nobody really feels like doing much of it, bar a bunch of confused teenagers who have always dreamed of smashing some glass or something. An elderly group - two brothers and their wives sort of adopted me in the rain to take me under their umbrellas to an underpass where a gallery and a cultural event was taking place. They were having some debates and the old man, once I said my goodbyes to leave, reached to me with 50 bucks in his hand. The mayor of the city, seeing this, wanting to be cool and friendly, also shoved 50 bucks in my hands for all those posh people to see. I considered the hard cash for a bit, but decided I am no longer a hitchhiker who needs hand-outs, and laughed, returning the money, saying: don't give me cash! Give me books! (In reference to a nice book one of them, I think the mayor, was holding.) Later, when we parted ways a few streets before the train station, the old man vanished for a minute, only to return with a thick folder-like book from an antique store. His brother, who did not seem to approve, cried: no, don't buy her The Leaves!... It seemed that this was the biggest book the old man could find, an encyclopedia of vintage illustrations of foliage. I joked with the women that they are clearly brothers and they explained how they both work for the same company, of which the elder (the complaining one) was a manager.
I left to hurry on, but as the night was almost through, I began to realize that, albeit most people didn't care for outdoors at this hour usually anyway, those who needed a bit of chemical stimulation have by now gotten feisty and for the first time ever, walking around in unfamiliar, poorly lit streets in the transportation section of the city, I did not feel as cool as I would. I began being followed by people toying with kitchen knives, almost surprised to see a fool like me outside, and almost getting kind of tempted. It was like wild animals - if I ran, they would chase. The fog caused the train station lights to create a sort of a glow and I could see the silhouette of the landmark statue behind the buildings, but for now, I needed to get out of plain sight and stop posing as a temptation. Why risk one small thing following another? My train was in a few minutes, though.
In one of the apartments in the building I hid, I met with a girl who walked around with a broken piece of plastic, trying to match it against various objects, but it wasn't until we hurried outside that we found this was not something she was scrapping but a bit of a bender she tore off her boyfriend's car and he was now chasing her in rage with his gang. Things were getting more heated. We saw a man trying to rape a woman on the hood of his Audi, but the gang got to him and glued his dick shut with superglue. Cops started being active again and driving fast around the empty city, ignoring pedestrians, so it was kind of dangerous to cross some streets. A cordon of shield-wielding policemen faced off with some riot, and while avoiding their clash, we got into a kill zone of a sniper who was after my girl companion, though she was wearing a helmet she found. I left her to deal with her problems while I try to catch the train.
I finally made it to the dentist and the nurse was as friendly as always, but I caught a glimpse of the doctor and he seemed to be in a tremendous backpain. I thought great, nothing like an overworked, exhausted dentist to deal with my brittle teeth. As always the nurse asked me to wait outside for the pain medication to take hold. Outside in the waiting room, all the people from the night accumulated and were cranky and restless. I found the General among them, waiting for me, and showed him the pretty book I was given by friendly strangers, telling him about my Purge experience.
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