I really hate tomatoes. A lot.

crap, I don't know if I can make this clean enough to post.
I don't know if anyone could.
self-censorship blows.

OK, here I go...

So I was standing on what appeared to be a television studio set. It was just me and the two actors (?) in the scene (?).

I was probably about ten feet away from them and they couldn't see me watching.
To tell you the truth, I am not even sure they knew that they were acting in a scene--I don't think they did.

While I was clearly in the room with them, there was a sort of separation like I was looking through glass or something (but I wasn't).

The room was set up with a big, low platform bed and not much else. The man and woman were (I just puked a little) lying next to each other in the spot light.

(it gets so bad)

He was probably naked and half under a blanket and she was wearing a bikini. Really, it looked like half ruffly lingerie half swim suit. You know the little tutus that the hippos wear in fantasia? It was sort of like that. It was all flowery and ruffled and f*ing horrible because this was not an attractive woman. Big and dirty are the best descriptors I can think of right now. The man wasn't particularly attractive either. I don't want to go into great detail...

god this gets twisted.

I really shouldn't post this.

.screw it.

So the big icky man is lying behind the big icky woman and he keeps reaching over her to get food off of a plate (also on the platform bed-I should stop right now).
Every time he reaches across her I notice that my own...um...christ...
OKOKOK
I know that there is some sexual penetration going on because I can feel it.

jesus christ

I am still watching the event and I am not participating in any way except I can feel everything that this woman feels. really bloody weird and not particularly pleasant.

So this goes on for a while and the woman (thankfully) tires of the activity which I have somehow been experiencing as my own.

So the guy decides to make this giant sandwich. It is the most elaborate creation ever- it's on one of those round loaf-y roll things the size of a medium sized cat. He put every topping ever on this giant sandwich; lettuce, meat, cheese, onions and really thinly sliced tomatoes, among other things.

What does this creation of my troubled brain do with the sandwich???

ugh.

He decides to put his (what's a good word?) junk (?) in it.
Yes, he did make a penis sandwich.
He gave it to the hippo woman and she leaned in to take a bite.

(i just puked again. it's fine)

SUDDENLY I am looking through her eyes and I see this giant sandwich coming toward my face. I know that I am not this woman, I am just experiencing everything that she experiences.

I didn't take a bite out of it (and I wouldn't say if I did), but the last thing I saw, before I woke up in a cold sweat, was a bunch of really thin, seedy, over-ripe tomatoes sliding out of the grossest sandwich ever and then I felt them land on my face.

I shouldn't have posted that.

That was 2 days ago and I still feel a little dirty and extremely confused. I don't know what any of that might mean and I am pretty sure I don't want to.
not ever


x

It's an ancient Navajo word. It means "stop".

So I was having a talk with dear old mom in a very small room about how she was going to move away. My primary concern, of course, was not that she was leaving, but what was going to happen to her old house. She hadn’t been living there, but apparently she had been renting it to some family. I decided I might want to buy it back and live there.

I got in my car to go look at the house and found a bunch of random papers that belonged to someone else. I started reading through them to see hat the hell they were. It was quite a process because they included weird things, like bank statements and email print outs and a letter from someone who had apparently been reading my blog and wanted to meet me about something. Thing was, all the names were in code. Don’t really remember what the signature said, but it wasn’t any real name. Something like "Super Cool Douchbag" or... something... ok, it probably wasn't Super Cool Douchbag.

At some point I realized the owner was a guy I know who I absolutely adore but in a non-dream world would probably not stalk me with bank statements.

I hunted him down and asked him to come look at my mom’ s house with me.

We went to my mom’s house and found that it was, in fact being lived in. I got inside and saw that whoever was living there was taking good care of it. It had been repainted and all the old furniture that had been covered with tomato soup stains and cat hair had been replaced.

I went into my mom’s old room and got her blanket (I have no idea) leaving the gentleman to entertain himself and started watching Young Guns 2 in the living room.

Now, I don't know why I would want to watch Young Guns 2 on a stranger's couch and I don't know why I would pick 2 over 1, unless it's the whole Balthazar Getty/Christian Slater combo thing...

.I don't question it.


After a while I went to look around the rest of the house. My mom’s room was about the same; furniture and paintings and stuff. In my head I was deciding what I would keep and what would have to go-totally redesigning the place.

I went upstairs where my old room used to be and saw that there were 2 children living there. Both of the rooms were immaculate and all LauraAshley-esque. In one room there was a lot of my old stuff, only it wasn’t personalized anymore. You know, my old picture frame with someone else's pictures in it, that sort of thing-kinda creepy when you think about it.

I went out back and was talking to the man about how I wanted to add on a room to my mom’s old bedroom. I was looking at the flowers which included hyacinths and some weird black and purple fly-trap looking thing, thinking about what I was going to plant next.

IT WAS WEIRD.

Then the whole thing shifted to a sort of stuff you have to do tomorrow dream and the fun abruptly ended.

Yeah, I know it's kind of shitty, but hey, it's the first one I've had in a while and I will not entertain bitching about content. Let me get my sea legs back, k? .k.

Oh Holy Crap!!! I have a blog???

So 8 months, huh? I guess that's not too bad...for me. Who has time to spill the contents of a tired brain when they're rocking back and forth and crying in the corner? I do, apparently. Not having time to sleep has hindered my ability to dream lately but I'm sure there's other crap going on to entertain the bored masses. I'll get to work on some super cool new stuff, k?

.ok.
x