January 04, 2008
Originally published May 2, 2003
It's been a weird week in dream-world, and if you ever looked into Acidman's cerebral cortex, you would understand why. It is warped and sick and misshapen and bent and all kinds of mean, nasty ugly things happen in there.
I dreamed about my father twice this past week, and he was angry with me both times. I think that he was telling me that I was about to marry the wrong kind of woman. He was right. He usually was.
I dreamed about a girlfriend that I haven't seen since high school. I haven't thought about her in 30 years. How did SHE get back in my dreams?
I dreamed that I was making love to a woman at work that I've never found particularly sexy. She looked and felt damned good in my dream. When I met her the next day, she didn't blush. Oh well, it was just me.
Wouldn't it be COOL if two people who aren't sexually connected at all shared the SAME EROTIC DREAM one night? Then met the next day? Wouldn't that be cool? Well, it didn't happen to me.
I had the same, recurring, getting downright boring dream about driving a 1968 Javelin with no brakes. I bounce off a few cars, get really worried about insurance, then I go sailing off a red-clay cliff in Athens, Georgia, where my old car becomes a convertable and I sail off into the air and fly like a bird as long as I hold my mouth right. The car crashes and burns, but that's not important. I am flying.
And I am flying off to bed now. Perchance to dream?
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