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Dream Journal 18 August 2012

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So for whatever reason I have really goddamned vivid dreams, where I can remember most everything that happened in excruciating detail. I've started trying to write these down, which is really hard, because I'm not a writer and because I can't remember the exact order that everything happened. This is about the third or forth I've actually bothered write, so I thought some of you might be interested. Sorry I'm a shit writer.


I pulled up to the house and Joel looked upon it solemnly. We pulled through the round driveway; I thought I saw a young girl in the corner of my eye but when I turned to look she wasn't there. I turned to Joel to ask if he saw anything but he was fixated on the house, so I dropped the thought. We stopped at the door and got out.

The door was carved from dark, almost black wood, and was primarily adorned with a large silver knocker. Joel gave it two very deliberate knocks and stood back, puffing up to confront the master inside.

Sounds of rustling and cursing came from inside the house, and momentarily a small, pale man with black messy hair and a selleck mustache an a short, protruding forehead came to the door, dressed in a black bathrobe.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"What happened to Christina?" Joel asked, taking a step towards the door.

The pale man looked frustrated "I don't know any Christinas, I don't know you, and I don't like people coming to my door like it's the goddamned lost and found booth. Good day!" He slammed the door.

Undiscouraged, Joel knocked on the door again.

"I told you to get off my porch! What's your problem?"

"We know that Christina got mixed up in some devil-worshiping cult with vampires and demons, and the last place we know she came is here! We want to know what happened to her and where we can find her!"

The short man glared into Joel's eyes and took a deep breath. "Alright, I'll admit it, I'm a vampire, and I let those Satanist kids use my shed for their demonic rituals or whatever. I saw some girl come here. You want to know what happened to her? She's dead! Burned alive, sent straight to Hell. Now get out of here before this old vampire gives you some hellfire!" The vampire tried to slam the door, but Joel stopped it with his foot.

"Wait! Wait." Joel composed himself, and looked back at the vampire. "If she. . . If Christina was really sent to hell. . . Is there anything I can do. . . Anything I can trade to bring her back? To life?"

"What are you thinking numbnuts? She's dead! She was burned in a fire! She's two tin cans of ashes in Hell, what good would it do to bring her back? That'd be worse than death right there, having to live like that, with a clueless goddamned boyfriend who thought it'd be romantic to make you live the rest of your life as a charred corpse! Get out of my face!" The vampire made some inane gesture and glared at Joel, who backed off with a look of horror and disgust.

For some purpose I don't recall, we got in the Jeep and drove back off. The sky was a strange shade of pink, too early in the evening for a sunset. I was focusing on driving Joel back home, but I was distracted by a fully rigged schooner boat. It was apparently sailing down the road coming from my left, and as I approached and it came into full view I could see it was indeed a fully crewed sailboat on wheels being blown down the road. And he wasn't slowing down. Without stopping for me (although come to think of it how could they stop a boat?), the schooner peeled right around into my lane, and I had to swerve off the road to get around him. Holy shit! The crew, a well-to-do looking family, gave me dirty looks and I sped up to get away from the crazy boat people.

Now this road I was in a nice suburb (besides the cult and all that), with lots of pine trees and winding roads, so I figured it wouldn't be hard to evade a wind-powered boat in what was practically a forest, but it seems the world itself was going through some weird transformations. As I was headed up the road, it suddenly started tilting up in front of me, and next thing I know I was headed towards a cliff! I stopped and kept my foot hard on the brake. Looking around, I could see I wasn't experiencing some geological disaster; I was on a giant drawbridge, and a cruise ship was coming up a river where the neighborhood ahead of me should have been. But I was still on the wrong part of a drawbridge, so I decided to ease myself down before the Jeep flipped outright, so I rolled back down, and just as I got off the bridge, I was still rolling back when that goddamned schooner pulled up behind me and I rolled right back into it! I had slowed down enough that neither of us took any damage, but since the bridge was up I got out to ask what the hell was going on.

The skipper of the schooner, apparently oblivious to how fucking bizarre it is that he was sailing a boat through the suburbs, and unbothered that my Jeep just backed into his wooden boat, just boasted about how he built it himself, and that his boat runs 17 knots (which isn't exactly the most impressive feat but is alright). While he was talking, the sky suddenly turned a dark shade of magenta, and the entire world to my left suddenly was shattered with a thunderous sound and replaced with some surrealistic Seussian world, with stage lighting and meaningless structures bent at impressive angles. The spaces were broad and strangely void, except for the occasional out-of-place piece of junk.

Besides the oblivious skipper, everyone was on guard and freaked out. We were all more freaked out when out of every distant corner we heard alien animal calls, like mutant hyenas or something. We all saw unhuman shadows running out from the distance. Joel shouted "RUN!" And we split out towards the only direction we couldn't see the creatures. In the middle of one wide-open space was a small yellow car; I led Joel to the car to try and get in, and by good luck the doors were unlocked, so we jumped in and locked the doors we could reach.

We were okay in the car for a moment, but a crowd of women, all blonde with the exact same face, ran to the back and peered in. When we glanced up and they saw us, their eyes turned red and they grinned wide: They all at once started clawing at the car, shaking it and wailing like monsters, until one of them opened the cargo hatch and the all poured in. Joel and I didn't have weapons, so we could only punch them from our awkward position twisted around the chairs. As we punched them, their teeth turned to fangs turned to razor-like shards, and their faces deformed so their eyes were no longer eyes, but inflated bleeding sores. It wasn't just our punching; they were transforming back into some hideous primordial form: Even as I punched the demon in front of me, the others behind her transformed back. They were weak and their attacks were futile, but their teeth were sharp as bejezzus and cut the shit out of my hands. Other mortals had been running past and the demons gave chase, so when the crowd had thinned enough to give us a chance, we bolted out of the car and ran.

I lost sight of Joel, so I just ran with all I had left. I ran through what seemed to be a bar run by furry pigs. I ran past a spider with big eyes like a cartoon character. I almost ran into a giant egg like Humpty Dumpty, and was going to run away when I realized he was just as terrified as me. I wasn't the only one moved out of my world; we were all being chased by demons and none of us had a clue what to do.

A thunderous, grinding sound shook the ground itself, and even the demons and harpies scurried away into the cracks. Even when the sound stopped they wouldn't come back out. The hideous grind came back, shook us for moment and stopped again. The next time the sound came back, the survivors used the cacophony to hide their steps, and we creeped closer to the sound. As I rounded a corner towards the source of the sounds, the grinding climaxed with the most horrible viscous sound, like meat grinding and dying men vomiting blood, in a tone so deep and heavy it shook us all in our throats and wrenched our stomachs. When I rounded the corner, I saw the face of Satan himself: Standing 30 meters tall, lanky and nude, legs spread and grasping his dog-like penis in one hand, the splitting image of Frank Zappa twitched in orgasm as massive volumes of spunk oozed from his three meter dick. It was so thick it never fell off the tip, just a lumpy mass of semen hanging, rancid and apparently mixed with greasy blood. Between his legs there was an effigy of Mary the Mother of God constructed of terrible rusted nails, and his sperm dripped down between the nails.

He turned down towards us all an cracked the horniest, scariest grin I've ever seen in my life.

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Amazing! I thought I could remember my dreams vividly but that's nuts. I can never remember conversations and things.

Did satan look like zappa? or did satans dick look like zappa?

I've also been trying to keep a dream diary recently but find it really hard to write. If i wake up in the middle of the night I find it hard to write properly and not completely wake up and be unable to get back to sleep, or just be able to write intelligibly in that weird only half awake state.

My favourite recent entry just says:

? Ron Howard.

No idea what that meant. Dreams are the best.

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