Friday, February 14, 2014


My scalp slid forward and fell with a soft crunch at my feet, a sound like a celery stalk snapping.  When I picked up the pulpy swatch my fingers left deep red dents in the spongy goo, I tried to be so careful.  Some dreams stick with you.  I remember my hair curling around to mat against the underside, even in my dream I recognized that my concern over infection was ridiculous.  I hastily brushed the hair away from the raw meat at the top of my head and slid my scalp back into place.  The screaming thing was getting closer.  I held the top of my head and ran.

I don't know what makes one nightmare bigger than other nightmares and I'm not so conceited that I imagine my dreams are more fascinating than other people's.  But I'll be damned if that nightmare doesn't give me the chills even now.  That wet sounds, the smell of moldy fur, everything about it was damp and hopeless and my body was falling apart.  Some huge shambling shuffling screaming thing was getting closer and closer.

Enough about nightmares.

I had a dream a few months back that the moon crashed into the world.  I saw it getting bigger and bigger until I could make out every beautiful ridge and pore on its ivory face.  Because it was a dream and not science, instead of turning into a molten ball of fuck all, earth decided to explode into giant chunks.  These earth asteroids were hurtling through space in slow motion, their atmospheres slowly being sloughed away.  Our precious air and ozone were curling into the void as we moved further from the sun.  Streetlights flickered and people made the best and worst of their remaining time.  I knew, in the way that you know these things in dreams, that soon we'd all be bouncing around lifelessly.  Empty husks tethered loosely to an empty world by a fraction of earths former gravity.  I was euphoric.

Dear world, I'm a little sorry for that.  It felt like getting fired on a beautiful day, like being suspended from school in spring, like passing out.  I didn't have to quit, the whole planet was going with me, we all got to stop having to do things.

Like I said, I'm sorry, world.  I think one of the reasons people are fascinated by armageddon prophecies is that even though we can't imagine a universe without us, we conversely can't fathom stretching forward indefinitely through time.  If humanity is anything like me, and I think it is, we're all waiting for the clock to run out.  Can a species get tired?  I may be projecting.  Anyway it was a fantastic dream.  Sorry, sorry.

I had a masturbation dream a couple weeks ago.  I know, right?  Masturbation.  I dove deep into my subconscious mind in order to piece together a fantasy reality, and I came up with masturbation.  I have achieved a singular sort of nirvana.  Without going into detail, it was an OK dream.  I didn't set the bar so high that I won't be able to get those same effects while awake.  I wasn't masturbating on a space ship or in the bottom of the ocean, even though I could have been, because it was a dream.  My subconscious mind chose my current bedroom as the setting for this "fantasy".

Now that I'm reading the moon dream and the masturbation dream back to back, I've noticed a pattern.  In one of the dreams I'm thrilled because all of humanity is dying, and in the other I'm content to be completely alone.  I'm no expert but I think it's pretty obvious that for some reason I'm only having dreams about things that start with the letter M.

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