content warnings: ultragore, violence against women

Dreamed I was a South Asian teenager who was the only boy on a co-ed lacrosse team.  One of the girls was sick and had to sit out the game, so the others were all pissed off or sad, anticipating a big loss.  I was like, what’s the big deal?  Play just to play or go home.  They disagreed and my subconscious chauvinisms said, “girls are all the same. gotta have it all.”

The dream time skipped to the aftermath of the game.  At that point I was no longer the boy – it was third person – and the team’s mothers were presenting them with gifts.  They had lost; call ’em prizes for worst place.  “Lori I bestow upon you this shovel, that you may dig your own grave.”

When the line got to the boy, he was blood-flecked and all pumped up, like he has just defeated some guys in hand-to-hand combat, and was ready for more.  The dream’s camera eye was over mom’s shoulder, as she handed him a machete, like a princess bestowing a sword upon a knight.

“For great victory in battle I bestow upon you the blade of Lord Shiva.”  The boy roared in triumph.  The camera moved to where we could see mom’s face, and it was a flat plane of glistening bone and bloody meat.  The front few inches of her head had been cut off.

I feel like the story implied by the time skip was of a lacrosse match turned into a brutal fight, during which boy’s mom was mutilated.  The game was lost but the fight was won by the co-ed losers.  Anyway, yikes.

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i might be subconsciously racist against the Irish, i might be a half-assed murderclown, but sometimes i do something right.  had a very elaborate dream last night of which i have forgotten almost everything, but in one scene i blocked a drug store manager from busting a family that was shoplifting their groceries.  take that, capitalisms!
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a dream, more sensible than most, at least in summary mode, where the inconsistent reality and messiness is not visible…

the ted danson and rhea perlman characters from cheers found out the space for the old bar had become available again, and while they didn’t have the money, they wanted to hatch some kind of crazy scheme to help rhea get it for herself.  the bar itself was long gone, torn out for a business that had since gone out of business, but she was wanting to get the back office area of it, which was intact, and for which she was feeling nostalgia.

there was a fancy art deco mural in back of the office which seemed to have a secret door, and they wanted to get in to find out what it was concealing.  maybe they thought it was a treasure that could help her afford the place.

ted found a way to break into the building from the roof, but they got split up and the story followed rhea’s perspective.  i feel like i was her, but perspective is flexible in these things.

there were businesses on that side of the wall, with a big open central area ringed by a staircase.  i / rhea figured out how to break into their shit, where i found ominous notes.  ultimately i unsealed the vault from the other side, unleashing giant hypercarnivorous monsters with camouflage abilities like in the movie relic.

while i fled, things went back to third person, focused on one of the business guys, played by edward james olmos.  he was repping his secret society and lamenting their failure at monster containment, as one of the monsters dragged him down the stairwell, eating him alive in gory chunks.

not sure because the dream is rapidly fleeing memory, but I think the reveal of monster-hiding cult may have helped rhea acquire the place she wanted.  end on cheers theme.

why would i dream i was rhea perlman?  it’s been a thousand years since i watched cheers and i only recall broad strokes of the show.  i feel like either the show’s writing or rhea’s acting* made her the most relatable character on the show – frequently sympathetic, loyal to ted’s sportball gigolo.  did she have romantic feels for him that would never be fulfilled because he was out of her league?  i think so?

unrelated, i’d like to remind folks i do not have a policy against “necroposting” and am ok with people commenting on posts that have already come and gone.  i would have liked more response to my three mega spooktober posts, at least to know if any of the jokes and references landed with anyone.  thanks.

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*another case of lady actors doing the heavy lifting

Is my subconscious mind racist against the Irish?  Insert “it’s more likely than you think” meme.

So I was dreaming stuff inspired by my actual childhood (a lot of walking around with my siblings punctuated with tedious domestic strife), but mashed up with TV’s The Sopranos – a show I only have a pop culture impression of.  Dad was fully Tony, the rest of us were characters that didn’t exist.  My sister was getting a ride from one of Tony’s boys, who was trying to molest her even tho I was in the backseat.  We tussled a bit, then parted ways.  Tony beat him to death while feeling slightly bad about it.

They leave a calling card for some Asian gangsters to frame him and dump the body in a crowded police precinct lobby.  For some reason the crowd broke into song.  No dance, but they did do a light show with laser pointers.

Cut to some kind of meeting with the Irish mob, led by a modern “Ma Kelly” type.  She praises Tony’s cooking  (she was holding a calzone) and then intros her daughter with, “All rise, for ‘God Save America,’ from the musical ‘Annie’.” (nonexistent)  The girl starts lalala-ing the intro for uncomfortable minutes, until her mom interrupts with, “why don’t you sing something nice by Metallica?”  She meant to imply Metallica’s (nonexistent) patriotic song, and cut the mic when the girl guessed wrong (“Sad but True”).

This all took place in a sportball field by an underpass, with colorful fall leaves strewn about.  The mostly Irish audience were falling down drunk, like in another dream where they had to fight ninjas and were so insensate they didn’t mind getting slaughtered.

At the end of the dream I’m Junior Soprano again, waiting in a car with my sister, and I tell her, “It’s great how you don’t kill people who bother you.”  She’s dismissive but I’m like, “You and I both know that’s a real skill, c’mon.”

The End.

Racism against the Irish in the USA isn’t the same thing it used to be, of course.  Irish people were allowed to be considered white and that’s all she wrote.  Now they’re actually part of a problem like the rest of us honkies.  Aside from some very weird anticatholic throwbacks (are there any left since Jack Chick died?), nobody here is racist against them in a meaningful way.

Except me when I’m asleep.  What’s up with that?
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Had a dream where a young lady janitor was trying to flirt with me because she was deformed and too eager to please anyone who was not totally rude about it.  I was trying to politely move along.  This trend in my dreams is feeling narcissistic.  Anyhow, she was green-skinned and had three eyes, tho the details of her face changed a bit from one moment to the next, and while janitorial uniforms are getting less formal these days, the black mesh shirt over black X pasties was a bit wacky.  The outdated goth style might have influenced me to wake up with “More” by Sisters of Mercy in my head.  Weird morning.

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Had a dream last night.  I don’t remember the earliest part of it, think it was CW Flash TV show type bullshit.  Some speedboy was there in villain colors, like purple with green elements.  His costume had angry eyebrows, X motifs, and stylized top surgery scars on it.  But most of the dream involved me traveling to and conducting business in a fake (?) city called Sura, in a predominantly islamic state of the former soviet union.

I had gone there just to interview an aged ambassador at the israeli embassy about some occult stuff and the relationship between judaism and christianity.  He kept having health problems and fading in and out of consciousness.  His wife was there in even worse shape, practically a puppet like the Crypt-Keeper.  For some reason I was in better condition than IRL, younger and not bald.

Near the end of the dream I became confused, seeing multiple versions of my boyfriend at different ages in the scene.  Some of the versions didn’t recognize me.  The dream broke down and I woke up.  But yeah, always fun to go someplace you’ve never been before.

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EDITED – closed comments on the old post because spambots were using it like a chewtoy at an appalling rate.

I was trying to walk from one place to another and somehow ended up on a highway with my boyfriend and his mother. This happens in my dreams sometimes, where I’m just trying to go somewhere and get stuck on a messed up path that is obviously not where I’m supposed to be.

There were other pedestrians stuck in the same path with us. Old timey race cars started coming at us from the opposite direction and I was all personally offended that somebody planned a race on a road that people use for walking.

We barely got out to some safer stretch of road, but when we did, we realized that we had left my boyfriend’s mother behind. I went back for her but I couldn’t find her. Instead, I was stuck going deeper and deeper into a labyrinthine maze of subterranean highway, chain link fences, and colorful pipes.

At the bottom of it all I found that I was now Bruce Willis in 12 Monkeys mode, and the family that I was trying to get back to was a fictional wife and child. There were other human beings trapped there with me, and we were under the fascist rule of multicolored cartoony characters – something like those in the Trolls movies, with maybe 5% Killer Klowns from Outer Space vibes.

They were trying to keep us underground for ostensibly benevolent reasons. I don’t know how they communicated that because they spoke in gibberish.

My fellow humans were more easily cowed than I was, given that I was willing to do ultra violence to our captors. I would pretend to go along with them until I could get into a safe spot to attack, then just beat them to death or cut their throats with a shank.

At some point, one of the trolls was going to check my papers, but I remembered I had the IDs of two people I assassinated in my wallet. I managed to sneak the IDs out of my wallet onto the floor slightly out of sight, but one of my fellow humans betrayed me by flicking them into view of the trolls.

After a bunch of violence and misdirection, I somehow reached the outside world. I did this by always keeping an eye on whatever stretch of blue sky was visible through the cracks in the environment far above. If I was going in a direction with less sky visible, I would do whatever I could to climb up over the barriers and keep moving towards the sky.

So I got outside, and the trees were red and the world was very underpopulated. There were just a few random menacing figures, lurking about their business.

My wife and child were there, but their skin was pitch black. Their eyes were blood red and they looked subtly inhuman in some other way. They pretended to be happy to see me, but I knew they would probably kill me when I went to sleep. I was still happy to be there and went along with it until I woke up.

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