Dreams and nocturnal bibliophilia.

Aggro Femme — Mon, 26 Jun 2006 08:55:06 +0000

So here I am, up at 3:45am when I have to be up at 6am for work.

I had a dream that involved the inhabitants of a nursing home, a very large foot, I mean car-sized, work, my mother, a girl I haven’t thought about in years, and John Travolta. For some reason we all decided to take a tour of some sort of underground aquarium, and there were bengal tiger-sharks and such other weirdness. Apparently we were discussing how we shouldn’t be there over girl-I-haven’t-thought-about-in-years’ loud milk steaming noises, talking about how we’ve found clues that have led us to believe there’s a killer on the loose. Then John Travolta pops up, scaring the crap out of us, and we find out it’s true. Then I wake up. Hi Nature, what’s new.

I finished the book I’ll be reviewing fairly soon, and read some Dylan Thomas. I’m not sure if I want to start Johnny Cash’s autobiography, a novel by Kathy Reichs (she’s the inspiration for a show I watch called “Bones” about a forensic anthropologist) or a Kay Scarpetta novel by Patricia Cornwell. I have so many books going anyway. Annie Dillard, some current affairs thing, Donald Miller, “Manic Depressive Illness and the Artistic Temperament,” which is good, but reads like stereo instructions (five bucks to whomever gets that reference… not really, but c’mon, play anyway).

Let’s try this sleep thing for a few more hours, shall we?

Dreams: Children.

Aggro Femme — Tue, 13 Jun 2006 23:54:27 +0000

I dreamt that I was living in a communal house with several children, a few of younger ages, and most were boys of my own age, though in the dream I was somewhere around 12 or 14. The house was set up like a mall, with shops where we all worked. A playground mentality was prevalent, as the boys took every opportunity to express their dislike with me, but I knew they felt exactly and deeply the opposite. I said and did things everyone found most peculiar. I wanted to fly, and they insisted I couldn’t. I wanted to wander off on my own, and each time I did I was told of the trouble I’d be in. I was told I was fat, but the smallest clothes in the “mall” fit me well. None of this phased me. But the weirdest thing was that the younger children were forced to nakedness in hopes that it would help us all concentrate on our humanity, rather than that we were males and females. And I felt the most urgent need to hurry around the “mall” to find clothes for them.

I prefer to analyse my own dreams, so I’ll think on this a bit and see what I come up with. In the mean time all of your analyses are welcome and appreciated.

Aggro Femme » Dreams

Dreams and nocturnal bibliophilia.

Dreams: Children.