You can't kill what's already dead

Not too long ago I had a dream, like this:

I was fucking a beautiful lady with much vigor and this caused her neck to throw her head back like a slinky. All that protruded forth of her skullular regions was her angular under-chin region. It looked much like an arrowhead. While the sexing ensued for a moment i became increasingly curious about the identity of this female. Naturally, I reach for her head with hopes to gently cup her skull with my hand revolving her face into the light of my view. While I am thinking about the actual motion, predictions are being visualized in front of me like a hologram, and many combinations of eyes, mouths, noses, cheeks, foreheads, eyebrows, and even ears are rotating places. A sort of slot machine, no pun intended, as I extend my faithful hand. BITE! 

Not the teeth or the mouths response, but the inverted chin itself, at the height of the triangular iceberg became a stapler but also a snapping turtle….whose rejection caused a sharp bright pain. Still veiled lasted the identity and I woke up still in the dream in my bed at home. 

In that bed I saw an elastic translucent blue arm (sort of like those little sticky hands from 50 cent machines but this one seemed to be made out of a soul fluid similar to ectoplasms) coming out of my forehead and ending with a hand that had been stroking my dick. It seemed that this was what was responsible for the wet dream.

A man was in a mock kitchen room, the type they have at furniture stores only I knew this was a laboratory. Before him was a beautiful woman, mildly tending to him, implying that what followed could be any promise. Her dress was also appropriate in seducing him. Access was only a mud-flap away. He was in a stupor and he reminded me of most people, including myself. From where I was standing were very official people. At an observational distance, and with cold analytical demeanor. Soon a man with a gun started lightly shooting little viles into the room around the man and lady. The man became so excited and shakey voiced.

“YES!!!! Keep shooting me cocaine!!!” 

A demented child’s voice crack and a half as he shuffled backwards as a result of this fine lady’s advances. As he struggled to do cocaine mid coitus, forming whatever arches he could for a leveled surface…I saw the real guns come out. 

There sat a few cookie jar looking apparati on the mock countertop that licked this cheap tiled room in an “L” shape. They looked suspiciously large, and I noticed them only when the guns came out. 

As they aimed right at them I looked too, the bullet flew and it became obvious they were bombs. Extremely powerful, bright, instantaneous bombs. A milisecond before they went off you could hear the deranged and amplified quivers of a weakened man in pure ecstacy. 

Soon my vision slipped into a comically geographic view of the world from above. Complete with “The Rocky Mountains” chiseled like a greatwalla-hollywood sign visible from space into the rock. 

I saw the east coast eaten by the flame and I flew beside the shockwave down to Florida.

It became apparent they were making a god. It became apparent the manufacturing was Absolutely heavy.   

It started in my house which was presented in a sideview like an sidescrolling game boss fight. My house had to be inserted into the water level too, so it was a house on stilts sort of thing. A friend of my was the boss character, he was mad at me and he pummelled entire walls of my home. Just then it transferred to real life, first person view lol. He was drunk and punching the walls, saying he hates me. I told him to leave and come back when he felt better. He ate some pizza…THEN left. 

I was at a weird urban area that was supposedly martha’s vineyard. I was in some courtyard with my mother and her girlfriend Cheryl. They were talking to me about jobs and girls. Some girls started talking to me, asking me to sit with them. I told them i’d rather sit where I was already but it doesn’t mean I hate them, in fact I love them I just didn’t need or want to be close to them. They knew the deal. This courtyard was with a fountain between tall buildings. One lady that was with us, I think it was my cello teacher from college was talking about starting up a local theater program. After my mom went in to the tall building and came out, we headed to a beachy peninsula that really just seemed to sit in a swamp. As I laid there on a towel more and more people that I’ve known started to show up. Even people I don’t really like. But I was cool with everyone. Kind of freaking the unsure ones out with over exuberance that was really just an expression of all our impervious and forever adaptable natures.

I remember being at Justin’s house laying on the satin couch talking to some kids I went to 5th grade with about being class clowns, then having one of my exe girl friend’s appear only to hawk at me while I was dialing numbers on a cell phone with no button labels.   

There I was in some type of religious town where I found out I wasn’t allowed to wear my type of shoes, have tobacco, carry knives, or use MetroPCS in that order. The more religious and prestigous a person was, the more lanky and stretched out they were. There were also turkeys everywhere and they were sometimes horrifying and violent. As I came upon a church posted at random with MetroPCS with a linethrough it signs, barefoot on broken glass, I met with a turkey whose fat body had been stuck into a bong. Legs poking out the bottom where the water goes, head sticking out the top for a mouth. He was frantic, as if this had suddenly happened (how? I don’t know) and in this panic, his throat needed more air. The throbbing of his neck soon led to suffocation from the glass limit and he was lying on the ground in a dying frenzy, pecking instinctively at glass. My friends inside the church at the nearby door kept insisting I just enter, but I stayed outside with the turkey even though he could kill me in his lashing. I found a stretched out witchy lady approaching and I knew she was of this town. I told her about the turkey but she could not see him. But the time she even got close to where he was laying, the turkey had managed himself free…a shatter-then turkey freedom. I finally walked my way around all the broken glass to get into the church where I climbed the stairs. An old man was watching video tapes of paper-based RPG games. 

On a boat, I hear the convulsive demons beneath me covered with an otherworldly moss are great whites. I lay on the tip of the hat of the boat and I know the monsters could jump up fluently at my half naked meat. They follow the boat, intrigued but for reasons I cannot blueprint, they spare me. The boat goes by my house and the ocean disipates like fog, leaving a street and only a puddle for the beasts, and an inflatable for me. Looks like it just rained. They follow me as I move down the street. I wanted to visit this particular girl’s house but I couldn’t imagine where it was, my memory had skipped it in the passing sequence to the right. 

He climbed the street of disordered houses until he reached the main road, trickling down to his least favorite side street, two blocks down…and arrived at a house that he knew contained a girl he went to elementary school. They parted ways during high school.

He attempted to enter through the doggie door, but the mid section of his head was too wide. The knob did work, but it allowed entry into the most common of rooms, and the mother in the immediate kitchen did not accept his presence as a recognized, welcome identity. Curiously, they also had a dog, who barked in readiness. And I made sure to tease him with unhumanly quick lunges that also frightened the mother.

I found the girl in an aggravated state, sluggishly preparing for work, and occasionally burying herself in her hair. I’d reach for her scalp to return her from this disassociation and she’d simply say “No”, and I’d retract. She handed him a half of a cigarette instinctively once she reached it, like most of his other girlfriends. He proudly told her that he had recently quit. 

I watched her move around her room from node to node, switching in what seemed to be fifteen minute intervals. Her mom occasionally came in with an excuse to enter each time as suspicious as she was. I knew my presence was that of a teacher assigned project alliance with the least cool kid in school. I tried to seduce her with stupid facial expressions, she returned them with all the loaded cynicism of an eye roll, punctuated with the laughable crash of an audio video snicker.  No One went over to the yellow kraken of an exercise machine and began focus on her legs. There was way too much pepsi in the room. 

Three purposeful, if not only self convincing but i couldn’t complain, leg spreads later and she draped her long black hair above the cold metal arms of the machine. I figured myself much better in every aspect than this machine. I reached for her hair, “No.” 

A red pickup appears in front of the house and this triggers a frenzy he is swept into. A frenzy that tosses him outside to The Greet, faster than No One does. The driver of the car is an ugly foul creature. Layers of teeth and a Neanderthal forehead. Walks around the car, and lets the girl out. I ask him how he’s able to be that much of a flagrant player, not seeking his recipe but circumlocuting his arrogance with a frustrating pre-disdain. 

This terminology is exciting, I see the flare of his ego as if my visible exhale is diluted gasoline. I hear him say a sentence but I only detect the stupourous repetition of the words “it” and “is”.

I notice the girl leave the car, her bored expression, and her seemingly aimless departure.

“She looks entertained”

“She is as long as I’m around”

Its time for No One to come out and fill the warm passangers seat. He wakes up. 

so I had a dream last night that I was a giant reptile. But not one from earth, these were variations and ranged from dinosaur esque body frames to king cobras, to three eyed alligators. But the catch is, they weren’t organic, they were mechanical…like ships with human inhabitants. But they battled with reptilian techniques, no lasers or bombs. When they killed another, they integrated their parts and some abilities. Mealtime evolution. I know I’ve seen something like this before…I like it. I just don’t remember where…

Sitting in a class next to ronin and not paying attention, the teacher is talking about something I already know about. The lights are off, the projector is on. She notices i’m not paying attention and she calls me on it. She’s my third grade teacher but this is a different class, she is discussing culture in depth.

“Ryan if you don’t learn any of this how are you going to make people laugh?”

“My face”

Whole class laughs. My chair is reminiscent of an old barber chair but its more like a chair plus a spring. I spend a lot of her lecture hopping around sporadically. Somewhere during this I turn to the class behind me and make a short presentation

“People are threatened by a person who is quick to be able to relate. They are isolationist, fascinators of categorization. Lack of separation horrifies their world. And people over indulge their own isolation, wanting THEIR own hiding spot. It’s like hide and seek, you try to stand beside them and they go “NO! Get out of here! You’re going to make IT find me! Sometimes you feel like IT himself.” 

The teacher very much agrees, I have inspired a change of heart in her now. The class has grown, the lights are on. I’m sitting next to my old friend Donald. I ask the teacher if she can request that our class get put on quarantine since a cold is going around, plus I enjoyed the class so much I did not desire that it end but it had to. After the class sings a slow jam together, they pass out cry-o-meters…how much you cried during the singing of the slow jam. I adjust mine to “drought” but Donald is bawling his eyes out. I just keep begging them not to sing. It feels like they are trying to cultivate my sorrow for use as a binding agent, a ploy i’ve seen before in church. On its conclusion the class starts filing out. A kid who looks like two people who don’t like me simultaneously or alternating depending on the instant turns and during his way out tells me that I talk way too much. I retort “We all have our flaws.” Right away I regret this kind response. One of my largest insecurities is that I flood. I could’ve ripped the anesthetic from his skull. The teacher tells me how happy she is because she genuinely loves to do it. I respond “yeah, I’m h-pretty/happy too.” With a slight tinge of unenthuse hanging over from the after effects of the precambrian moment. Pretty and happy were in the same word. I leave. I walk outside, it is night. A younger girl asks her grandmother if i’m her father as I pass by. I glare her in the eye like its impossible. My shoes are like clogs, mixed with high-heels, mixed with roller blades. Sometimes its easy to walk, sometimes its really hard. I end up underneath trees of large spikey nuts, squirrels come too close, I ward them off with random noise. I hear my dad at a nearby construction site explaining to his coworkers what “muh” means.

“It can be a reference to your mother, a sigh, or an expression of listless doubt. Or anything else, really..”

i want to call elana and tell her of my day but i realize its midnight and contrary to reality, I feel like that means its too late. An interesting revelation in a dream because, I always feel like the only one awake since I stay up all night. Something I do enjoy but lately its been wearing on me, as I can see. I arrive in the forest where it becomes nearly impossible to see or walk and I put on my headphones. Its some electronic sounding mess, I love it. It contains a sample of a man saying

“when you in love, you die, but you can always forget your heart, it still beats.”

just had some fucked up dream that ronin was playing some version of mario kart or whatever and i was making an ice cream concoction inside of a trash bag. soft serve vanilla with really LONG almonds in it. with the smooshy crushed oreos, eating it all slow. then my mom starts flipping out at me for eating lindsey’s meatball sub. but noonetoldmeitwashers it was just FAIR GAME UP IN THE FRIDGE BITCH. sitting there like a duckhunter. WOOP, snagged. So she starts this big ass fight, I get so mad at the way she’s talking to me, lindsey is being wicked rude too, so I hole up in the bathroom which is full of shampoo representing my strong sense of ammunition lmao. I start hucking bottle after bottle after bottle of shampoo at my moms door really quick. Most of the bottles bounce off the door and assemble in a bowling pin like fashion, I then send bottles barreling down the hall to knock these ones over too. No shampoo bottle can remain standing. After awhile lindsey comes out and starts painting the floor with different color shampoos and ronin comes out of my room and helps me huck shit at the door. More meatball words are exchanged, my mom threatens to call the police so I wake up……

I’m secretly mad at her in real life now.