One of the guys hanging out with the metal band we played a show with wore a blue and purple Windham Hill Records zip up hooded sweatshirt.

Looks like I'm scouring the internet over the next few days. Thanks subconscious!

I'm watching SNL, and Tom Waits is the host and musical guest. I'm thinking this is huge, b/c when was the last time he was on TV?

I've had a few Tom Waits-related dreams too.

It's Labour Day. Rosa Luxemburg is sitting on the patio of the apartment beside mine, reading the newspaper, scoffing at things she thinks are idiotic. I think she sounds strangely loud and up close, so I go out to look and find she is actually sitting on my patio. Annoyed, I ask her what she's doing there. She acts nonplussed and is like "but you're not here". And I'm like are you kidding, you think you could walk into a room in my house if I weren't there? And she's like oh fine and gets up, but then walks over to me. She was middle-aged before but now she's my age. She starts leaning into me and tries to charm me into letting her stay. I'm uncomfortable and unpersuaded.

We sat down and had dinner and people were drunk, a celebration of sorts; the whole organization is there.

L________ is pretty wasted and starts loosening her clothing, revealing under her white jeans and top a sort of half body suit exposing the right side of her belly and breast. The left side remains covered by the olive green toned silken suit, the panty portion covered everything. She is to my left lying back against something.

“Half of what I own is on my body.”

“What do you mean?’” I ask while staring at her beautiful skin. She starts to shimmy out of the tight jeans.

“Come on” She sighs, frustrated. “You’re not my uncle.”

She then laboriously and clumsily lowers her panties around her legs revealing bone-white almost luminescent mound blanketed with one-day stubble, a fresh white strawberry ripe for the eating. On its left side a diamond stud or implant.

"Oh, that."

I reach and caress the gem and then softly stroke up and down between her lips and work my way onto her clit. Her pussy is warn and wet. I’m getting hard and slide my pants down. She reaches over and softly grabs hold. We look at each other while delicately stroking one another.

J________ walks in.

enframed wrote: Fri Jan 28, 2022 9:34 am We sat down and had dinner and people were drunk...

Damn, I wish I had more dreams like that. Reminds me of some things I've read from Richard Meltzer.

A couple of days ago, I had another one of my reoccurring plane crash dreams/nightmares. Fuck.

I don't have any recurring dreams. Recurring motifs or themes, yeah, but not the action itself.

Most of my dreams are intensely vivid and (like most dreams, I guess) very, very weird.

I often have several in one night/sleep - I read somewhere that they last no more than a couple of minutes, but some of mine would definitely fill more than two pages of a screenplay, even without any big paragraphs of background or business.

Then again, I've also read that it's impossible for you to die/be killed in your own dreams (or maybe that's badly worded: should it be 'impossible to dream your own death'?) but I swear that's happened at least twice.

And then there are the dreams you have when you've got a fever, and they're on a different level altogether

Pembs wrote: Fri Jan 28, 2022 11:45 am Then again, I've also read that it's impossible for you to die/be killed in your own dreams (or maybe that's badly worded: should it be 'impossible to dream your own death'?) but I swear that's happened at least twice.

I've definitely died in my own dreams.. or, uh, now that I think about it, that's usually when I wake up.

Here's one for you to chew on: Ever since my cluster headaches began, every single dream I recall begins with me waking wherever I fell asleep. Could be my bed of many years; could be a stranger's sofa and a one-shot deal. Doesn't matter. Going on for twenty-five years now.

Pembs wrote: Fri Jan 28, 2022 11:45 am
I often have several in one night/sleep - I read somewhere that they last no more than a couple of minutes, but some of mine would definitely fill more than two pages of a screenplay, even without any big paragraphs of background or business.

This dates me for sure, but in high school I was a big fan of Omni magazine (1978-1995), which was kind of a quasi sci-fi/psychology magazine. Funny that Omni was owned by Bob Guccione, who also owned Penthouse.

One issue had an article about dreaming and lucid dreams, which I taught myself to have. It also said that if you want to remember more dreams you should keep a note pad and pen next to your baed and *immediately* upon waking from a dream write it down. It definitely worked for me and at some point I was recalling 5-7 dreams a night.

As a small child I had a recurring dream of being buried alive. It occurred in various places.

Yesterday, after a night of not having the dream, I remembered a recurring dream I've been having. They are of very short duration.

I am driving and my brakes work but not very well, so I press the brake pedal really hard and start slowing down but I never quite stop, and I awaken before I hit whatever I am trying to avoid.

Meaning?

Also have a recurring dream, it's been a while though, wherein I kill someone and bury the body. I awaken from those thinking it's very very real. Like to this day one of them specifically has me almost convinced it actually happened.