2010-02-20 - 3:47 p.m.
Weird dream of randomness:
Fox Trot, of all strips, which I haven't even looked at in ages. Jason was being all nerdy and talking about Dark Tower, which I'm currently reading (nigh finished). It's as if simple instructions were written in the exceedingly complicated rune-ology of Roland's world, and he was trying to follow them. This was all represented visually and with line drawings and word bubbles, as I far as I remember the dream was technically silent, although the impression, the memory of sound was reminiscent in everything, like a leg that's been amputated but still tingles.
Then I'm at my subconscious's favorite hangout, a really rad party. This one is by far the weirdest I think I've had, and it had three parts:
1. The most normal. The party is not huge or extravagant at first. It's a rather drab single story apartment, kinda college-kid-level if they had rich parents and OCD cleanliness levels. I mingle around, and cats start hanging out. Not a lot of them, but there are house cats at this party and they are the life. I don't like them much. In real life I'm mildly allergic, but I don't think that was a factor in this dream.
I come across a kitten, which represents to me the complete breakdown of defenses. I love animals, but domesticated pets are generally pretty boring. Kittens, however, are absolutely impossible not to coo over. This crazy, tiny thing is running pellmell through everyone's legs and I scoop it up, probably to save it, and take it into a big canvas tent. I'm going back and forth in my mind whether it was in the room already or if I went to a different room/apt to find the tent. I think same.
2. The tent is of course gigantic inside. It's deserty and everything seems to me like an ancient video game on our first computer, pixelated like Space Invasion or that Black Cauldron game from George Memorial Library. The kitten runs free, and I feel like I descend many levels and return. That doesn't make sense, but there it is. When I return to the top I see the kitten, in its terribly animated fashion, turn to me and I'm scared, because its face looks angry and hostile. Then it jumps into my arms and it is nice again, and I write it off due to the pixelation.
3. I go back out and into the party, which I realize now is exactly the same, but dark like the people who were too drunk to drive home were half-assedly trying to crash, but talking on the couch instead. I sit on the couch next to a girl, who now, trying to describe her, I realize is very ethnically ambiguous. Definitely dark-complected, if that's a word, and I would say a combination of Chinese, Polynesian, and Mexican. Her eyes are Mexican and her hair is long, straight, and black. Chinese comes mostly from head shape, methinks. Anyway, she's not gorgeous but very pretty, and we talk for a while in the dark on the couch. She has an expectant half-smile. Perhaps this is my mind getting meta? Her character knows her purpose here. She says that classic line, "I'm cold," and I draw a blanket around her and put my arm over her shoulder and she puts her head on my chest. She remarks that the blanket is nearly the same as my wool shawl that I brought back from Nepal, which is on my lap, same blue-and-purple-squares pattern. Immediately she stroking me with her hand, and my pants are off. I come almost immediately, but stay hard, and she smiles at my size. After my pants disappear, so does her shirt, her pants, then my shirt, in that order. She gets on her knees and massages me with her breasts, then lies down on the couch and I wonder that she has gotten prettier. We have sex. All of this is incredibly quick, sparing only a few seconds at each stage.
I wake up and check myself, no emissions, thank Krishna. I wonder if my subconscious was simply rolling its eyes at me, thinking, "Fine, I'll give you what you want, if only to shut you up for a while." I've been living in this cave so long and every date this year has been like a crown of thorns. Old Paul's lonely, do ya kennit. (Say sorry.)
