I had a rather complicated dream in 2.5 parts. I haven't remembered my dreams lately, but this might be because of my alarm clock, whereas today I get to sleep in (not that I did.)
First, there was my Uncle Bruce (the uncle with kids, not the uncle in the army.) Something about him being written into the story, and Neil Gaiman was going to literally erase him soon. There were towers we walked up and down, and a child who was upset. I think the latter was
jaylake daughter, and that might be an insight.
I would think that if I was dreaming about Jay's cancer drama, I'd dream about him directly. But there's more Jay-ish associations later, though I don't want to define these people by the man in their life! Though I am anxious about the is-it-or-isn't-it cancer, I think Jay's situation just provided me with an excellent imago for the powerful symbol of a child facing the loss of her dad.
We ended up having dinner in one of the towers with ICP.
plunderpuss knew them from somewhere, and they were boisterous but nice. I guess one of them had a nice aquarium.
Then I was wandering some northern Scottish town (right on a bridge leading across a channel north, though we were already at the northernmost tip of Scotland. (I later discussed this place with Charlie Stross. There was also stuff about him getting a shave. I needed a shave too, but was terrified of rusty Scottish metal. I love you, Scotland, I really do.)
I was trying to get a city bus in this town with
calendula_witch. We walked through a park, away from a local festival which was full of juggalos having a balloon parade.
We went into a hotel lobby, where a child was playing with a baby seal in an aquarium. (submerging herself fully in the water) The managers of the hotel turned to me and
calendula_witch and ordered us to fix the aquarium, which had a bunch of burnt and rotting animals in it. (I remember sea stars with the tips of their arms burnt.) I had no idea what to do beyond cutting away the bad part.* Then I remembered that ICP was great with aquariums!
*Sudden Insight! I went to bed thinking about how I'm going to cut off the burnt ends of my hair at the beach. I must now meditate upon how nurturing a fanatical fanbase will make my hair grow back. Okay, in seriousness, the blog Overthinking It has a fascinating article on A Juggalo Theory of Value on the benefits of having a core of batshit admirers. (See, Twihards, Tea Partiers, etc.) And when I had my hair burning accident, I'd just made my first sale. I imagine the dying aquarium might refer to my creativity, which feels about like that lately. I took a break to read, but I'm not feeling inspired. So how does surreptitious control of a band of misanthropes help me? Maybe it's just that I need to look to unexpected places for inspiration? Anyone know any Juggalos I can have dinner with?
And meanwhile, my estranged uncle has been erased from existence. Then again, he was erased because he didn't belong there, and he really is an anomaly in the rest of the dream. Could I possibly have been experiencing a first draft of the dream? I was looking at Neil Gaiman as a master writer figure, but he could well have been Dream of the fricking Endless, couldn't he? In the dream, my uncle wasn't going to be erased until morning. Thanks, Neil, for the time with an uncle I never get to see.
First, there was my Uncle Bruce (the uncle with kids, not the uncle in the army.) Something about him being written into the story, and Neil Gaiman was going to literally erase him soon. There were towers we walked up and down, and a child who was upset. I think the latter was
I would think that if I was dreaming about Jay's cancer drama, I'd dream about him directly. But there's more Jay-ish associations later, though I don't want to define these people by the man in their life! Though I am anxious about the is-it-or-isn't-it cancer, I think Jay's situation just provided me with an excellent imago for the powerful symbol of a child facing the loss of her dad.
We ended up having dinner in one of the towers with ICP.
Then I was wandering some northern Scottish town (right on a bridge leading across a channel north, though we were already at the northernmost tip of Scotland. (I later discussed this place with Charlie Stross. There was also stuff about him getting a shave. I needed a shave too, but was terrified of rusty Scottish metal. I love you, Scotland, I really do.)
I was trying to get a city bus in this town with
We went into a hotel lobby, where a child was playing with a baby seal in an aquarium. (submerging herself fully in the water) The managers of the hotel turned to me and
*Sudden Insight! I went to bed thinking about how I'm going to cut off the burnt ends of my hair at the beach. I must now meditate upon how nurturing a fanatical fanbase will make my hair grow back. Okay, in seriousness, the blog Overthinking It has a fascinating article on A Juggalo Theory of Value on the benefits of having a core of batshit admirers. (See, Twihards, Tea Partiers, etc.) And when I had my hair burning accident, I'd just made my first sale. I imagine the dying aquarium might refer to my creativity, which feels about like that lately. I took a break to read, but I'm not feeling inspired. So how does surreptitious control of a band of misanthropes help me? Maybe it's just that I need to look to unexpected places for inspiration? Anyone know any Juggalos I can have dinner with?
And meanwhile, my estranged uncle has been erased from existence. Then again, he was erased because he didn't belong there, and he really is an anomaly in the rest of the dream. Could I possibly have been experiencing a first draft of the dream? I was looking at Neil Gaiman as a master writer figure, but he could well have been Dream of the fricking Endless, couldn't he? In the dream, my uncle wasn't going to be erased until morning. Thanks, Neil, for the time with an uncle I never get to see.