The Fan, Rob Swire, Heaven, Pugs!

Wow, okay, wow, it has been two months since I wrote down a dream in here!  Mostly because I am lame and procrastinatory, but I also went through a weird period in April where I did not dream nearly so much.

But, I return to you now with these 'gems', ffff.

Also, apparently I am the last to know that dreams do not occur just in REM sleep tra la laaaa.  If you did not know yet, either, then someone is just trying to make me feel dumb. Ff.

These three are from random points in the last couple of months that have stuck with me this whole time due to whatever reason.  Enjoy!

I was a published writer who sold his soul to the devil.  The deal was, I had to front a rock band in exchange for my book selling incredible amounts.  (And the soul, that too.)


But there were stipulations.  After every concert, I had to have sex with five people.  Five, oh my god.  If I didn't, there were terrible, unspoken consequences, that I really did not want to ask about.


Fast forward several months into this deal.  I am exhausted, totally tired of fulfilling my strange quota, and really starting to regret the deal I'd made just to get my book on every bestseller list in the world.


Back in the present, my bodyguards have invited the two people I'd selected.  When they asked about the other three, I told them I just could not.  Not tonight.


The girl and the boy I chose turn out to be brother and sister.  They invite me back to their home (their parents' home!).  And while we walked there, the boy confesses that he is really young (15-ish), but is my biggest fan.


We get to the house and go in.  The sister tells me to try out her brother first, retiring to her room to wait for me.


So, here I sit, a shy, trembling virgin in my lap, telling me how much he loves me.  But he's scared, I can feel it.  I tell him I can't.  Not here, not in this room.  This is wrong.


To hell with the consequences.  I could not have sex with a scared child.


Things to know about me:
I love virgins, in every shape, size, color, and gender.  Everything in between.  So the way this dream slanted just really hit me in the face: wasn't it what I wanted?  Why the sudden guilt?  Why was he so afraid...

I don't really know what it happened like that.  You would think that in a dream, I would get my way, haha :)

This next one involves Rob Swire.

source: tribalmixes.com

In a small room, I was invited, along with thirty or so other people, to a private CD sale with Rob.

The details are fuzzy, but I remember the prices being phenomenal - only about a dollar per disc.  Like he was trying to get rid of them.

But suddenly... he started crying midsentence.  Doubled-over, seriously sobbing.

I went over to him and held him.  I shushed him, let him cry.

I told him, that I loved him.  As a human being, I really loved him. He told me the same.

This love we were talking about was not love for each other.  It was like... the love of the bond we all share as human beings.  To love someone just because they are human, and we are all human, and they are hurt.

This dream culminated with all of us dancing Circle of Life style to upbeat music.  Really strange.

I do have recurring dreams about Rob a lot, but this one was the most pleasant I've ever had.  Seriously.  It's weird, but it made me feel emotionally complete.

Next one I had after drinking coffee and going to bed.  oAo

I knew I was dreaming, and just how to control it.  I wanted to see heaven, the ultimate safe space.

So, I went through a ghostly door leading to my 'heaven'.

It was a large pool, strangely shaped, like a strange circle drawn with large pixels.  White bricks composed it and the surrounding area, until they reached the border of dirt and bushes.

These bushes had wide leaves, the greenest I'd ever seen.  Trees with long, sweeping, willow-like branches swayed in the soft wind, rustling gently.

It was not hot or cold.  Almost as if it had no temperature.

I walked over to the edge of the water.  I tested the water with my foot to see if it were too cold or too warm, but it too had no temperature.

With the bright sky above, the lovely wind, and this gorgeous pool of water, I really was in heaven.

Later in the dream, I woke up within the dream, and was talking to another person about what I'd seen.  He told me dreams were meant to be kept to oneself.  I told him they were visions meant to be shared.

So lovely.  I can't believe how beautiful this dream was.  So.... so beautiful...

Last one for now, guys.  Just woke up from a nap and had this dream.  C:

I had a random tattoo of a pug on my ankle that I could not remember getting!  On my freaking ankle!

Just a wide-eyed little cutie looking up with its little bug-eyes.

Later, I looked back down, and it had changed.  It was now upside-down, looking up at me, with tail-wagging motion lines.

I do love pugs, I do want a tattoo, but a pug tattoo?  Oh hell.  Now I sort of want one, but that is ridiculous.  Pugs are rediculous.

source: pugsplace.com

So, yeah, that's all for me.  Yaaaay!

Also, I have decided that based on my crazy dreams and what I ate before dreaming, there is no correlation to food eaten vs. dreams.  Caffeine in the system while sleeping, however, I honestly believe does make the dream more vivid.

Good night, sleep well!  Sweet dreams, everyone.

Potentially tripping balls, please stand by

Oh man, I have just had the craziest, most psychedelic, sexual dream ever.  Oh my god.  Okay.  Here we go.

A boy washed up on shore one morning.  I somehow knew he had been raped and thrown to sea.


I held him against me all morning, waiting for him to awaken.


One of my irl coworkers (yesss this again), Piper, joined me in waiting for him to wake up.  Apparently, he was at least partially robotic, and the water had not done good things to him, so she had me open the panel on the back of his neck and press some buttons.


He awoke with the most furious thrashing ever.  We both had to hold him down with he got over the panic attack.


Then, I realized someone had written PIPER down all over the back of his neck.  I looked at her.


He calmed down, then looked at her angrily.  "You're that bitch from McDonalds who wouldn't give me the special because I left my coupon at home."


"That's her job," I interjected, then let him go on his merry way.


Later (I can only assume it was the same crazed androidbot), girls began to go missing.  Four, in fact.


I traced them back to this house with a long flight of stairs leading into a creepy-ass basement.  I stood at the top of the stairs with another boy, one who lived in this house.


Through the darkness, a light show began to play.


First, a song came on.  A dark, gritty, slow rock song, with a male singer telling me in a voice full of sex that he would get me 'as hypnotized as lightning'.


Then, in neon colors like a Lite Brite, shapes began to form on the ceiling of the stairwell.  It turned into a space scene, with rockets and stars.


Slowly, a light came on at the bottom of the stairs.  The missing girls were there, naked, masturbating with each other.  The music got louder, the lights went out.


When they came back on, it was a single naked bulb above a table, set up just past the first step.  On it where three large candles, with two wicks apiece.  The wicks were bending over and standing up in time to the beat.


I can only assume that if this person was trying to get me to come down the stairs, it definitely worked.

Yes, sir, I'd love to be one of your trippy masturbating girls locked in an eternal light show.  Ooookay then.

The Maid / Hamlet, Celty

People mentioned: Jerry

A very sexually charged evening, I've had.

In one, I was in a very fancy, skimpy maid's outfit.  Jerry and I were getting into some kinky cowgirl-position bondage.


Our real sex life is no where near as exciting.

In the other, I got to meet Hamlet Machine, author of the comic sensation Starfighter.  In my dream, she looked like this one actress from the independent movie 'Ink'.

source: http://www.knowthemovies.com/

This is what she actually looks like: (she's in the middle, and I'm just seeing this for the first time today C:)

source: http://www.starfightercomic.com/

She was super cool.  But I had to take a rickety elevator in a pretty decrepit building to the top floor to get to her.

When I bade her farewell (after talking about what, I can only speculate at this point) I tried to take the elevator down.  But it jammed.  Alarm bells went off as it spiraled between floors like it was on rubber bands.

When the doors finally opened and the lift came to a halt, it was... Shinra from Durarara opening the doors for me.  And I was looking into the building's secret basement.

I was both delighted and confused, so I followed him out of the elevator.  So, apparently, in my dreams, he's a mad scientist, rather than a rouge doctor.  So, guess what was sitting on a leather couch just randomly in the middle of the concrete floor?

Celty.  And not just any Celty.  Robot Celty.

With no ado whatsoever, I plopped myself into her lap and made out with her.  Well, as close to making out as you can when one party has no head  But I sure as hell felt up that lovely pile of circuits ♥  Yes yes.  ♥♥

RoboCelty?  Why didn't my waking mind ever think of that??!  That is just, aah, too much.  No wonder I dropped everything I was doing like "I'mma hit that asap bro thanks."

I'm probably so hypersexual because I've received literally the BEST piece of gift art that I ever have in my entire life.  It's hot as hell.  I feel asleep restless and fitful, and apparently it translated well into dreams 8D;;;

Strange Things in the Kitchen, Self-Sacrifice

I have a backlog of things to post, as always, but last night I had some rather intense goings-on in my not-always-happy dreamland that I really need to get out.

I've been hitting a string of nightmare lately.  Weird, shaking, painful ones, hitting the highest point I've ever hit last night as I let myself be murdered.

So, I'm going to start with the dream I had last night that didn't involve death, but it was, uh,.... okay, here it is.

It's worth mentioning that the brother in this dream is in no way related to my irl half-brother Joe.  This was a dream-only character with zero resemblance.  Although, this is still weird as is.

I worked at a restaurant as a waitress, and my brother was a cook.


I went to take a woman her drink of wine, and recognized her from where I work irl (although I'm not sure who she was / if she actually exists / call it a dream thing).  We started talking as I poured some pepper into her table candle to enhance the scent (??).


I went back into the kitchen, which really really resembled another section of booths rather than a kitchen, to find my brother drinking on the job, already pretty far gone.


"What the fuck are you doing?" I demanded, folding the serving platter under my arm.  "You are going to get fired!"


He said nothing, sort of just observing me.


I acted on an impulse, testing the waters that I know are troubled.  I grab him by the collar with my left hand, pulling his head down to my level.  (I'm 5'1" irl and in this dream; he is well over six feet)  We gave each other a long stare.


He gave in, wrapping his arms around my waist and hoisted me into a deep kiss.  He smelled like fresh laundry.  Which is good, but as a cook, shouldn't he smell different?


I backed up, nodded, and went about my job, leaving him to his own devices.


YES.  Dream incest.  WTF.

Thank god that it was not my real brother or I'd be in counseling instead of typing this out.  If there is any symbolism in this, I think I'm missing it.  Also, I've never been a waitress.  Or put pepper into candle wax.

*suddenly tempted to try it*  o__o

Okay, onto the more exciting one.

The setting is a prison break, late at night, with heavy rain.


The prison was almost completely empty.  A group of us were trapped within, unable to escape as the entire prison ground swarmed with armed, dangerous criminals.


I was huddled into a large holding cell with five or six others, cold, scared, awaiting the worst.  There was one prisoner in particular that I knew would be looking for me, with a vengeance.


I did not know why he wanted me specifically.  I just knew that he was coming to kill me.


And he did.


Appearing through the flashes of lightning like a jagged tree's silhouette, he slumped into the cell, carrying with him a motorized, cordless circular saw.

Thank you, www.lowes.com, for powering my nightmares.


I stepped in front of everyone else, determined to protect them.  I knew it was me alone he'd come for.


Within seconds, he had me pinned to the ground, looming over me like a dark predator.  He clicked the machine on, and while aiming for elsewhere, nicked my thigh on accident, tearing it open.


I finally began to feel fear.  I scream outright in agony, feeling the blade rip at me.  I clung to a dying hope that someone was going to come to my rescue, but I knew this was it.  I had chosen this.  I was dying.


The last thing I actually feel is a huff of air from the motor across my bare belly.  When the saw actually hit my stomach, I was beyond feeling.  I was swimming dizzily in a panicked spiral, where all I could hear was the whirring blade and my own distant screaming.  I was slightly aware that my insides were being literally ripped to shreds, but it wasn't long before I swooned in fear, causing me to slowly dissolve into consciousness on the other side.


Makes my stomach hurt just thinking about it @_@

Okay, no idea where that came from.  I'm the one who laughs at chainsaws and the like as weapons.  I don't think I've ever seriously died in a dream like that, that I can remember so vividly.

But I suddenly, even if only in dreamland, understood the psychology behind living a normal life and suddenly finding courage in the face of death.

Most famous example is my favorite historic figure, Marie Antoinette.  She was a sad individual under a lot of stress, having come from her homeland of Austria to marry into French aristocracy.  Then, surprise surprise, Austria and France became enemies.  Fuck her life.

She took out a lot of sadness, I believe, in buying expensive things.  So, on the outside, she lived a shallow life without my detail, only to suddenly buck up in the face of death and accept it nobly, like a truly unconquerable, strong soul.

That's kind of how I felt, knowing I was going to die.  Sudden courage.

In real life, my wager is still me going out like a whining, scared little bitch.

I've always said I'd be the one to challenge a schoolyard gunman by making it a fist fight.

Anyway, toodles for today, I'm off to wear many layers and distract myself from the tummy area.

I am a lardass who figured out how to make pigs in a blanket and then consumed about 14 of them right before bed.  I slept for... um... probably ten or eleven hours.

Casino Night

So, I've been kinda slacking off on my reports, mostly because I keep dreaming weird little inexplicable pieces and bits.  As in, in the last week, I magically appeared out of LMFAO's washing machine to give them some cryptic advice, merely to sink back into the magically tunnel inside the machine.  Wtf?

I'm writing this at 10:30pm, meaning, there's probably a lot missing from this.  But it's been a week since I've had a cohesive/non-useless dream, so enjoy.

I worked in a casino, and was there for a dinner party one night.  I was dressed in a fine midnight blue dress, although it was slightly strange/backwards, but it made sense in-dream.  So yeah, it opened up in the back.  See below for the picture I drew for you...

Weird, right?  Just some midnight blue butt-covering fabric to go underneath the 'outer' part of the dress.


So, I had someone call on the phone, asking if the voice going over the intercom could be sent over the phone.  (?????)  I told him yes, and then he asked to meet me.


Flash forward.  Instead of looking like myself, I had the hair of your typical mental image of a curly black-haired fortune teller.  I was lying naked with the man from the phone on the side of a cliff overlooking a slope of dirt that led to a little lake.


We exchanged sweet glances, and he said something about, "Well, I find you attractive *oh ho ho longing sigh* and you somehow find me attractive... *manly grin and laugh*, so of course we've nothing to fear."  *breast grab*


But then, I noticed a grey snake above his head, resembling a puff adder.

source: http://wikiworkspace.pbworks.com

I was alarmed, but he merely tossed it away like it was nothing.  Okay, back to kissing and the bare breasts and stuff.


Okay, I lied, it's not cohesive.  But there was some weird symbolism going on so I thought I might talk about it.

I ate some cheesy potatoes before bed and slept about ten hours.

Dream Talk : Sexual Dreams

So, I had a few quick little dreams that seemed silly to report, so I thought I'd fill in today's blank with a quick thought about sexual dreams.  This post is written assuming your sexual dream was pleasant - i.e., no raping, forcing, discomfort, etc.  Not that I think all or even most sexual dreams are good ones, I just like to think about the happier ones more.  (Maybe a darker post about rape-like dreams in the future, but I'm not in that deep a mood tonight.)

I just read an article (readable here) talking about recurring sexual dreams.  It poses the notion that if you are having sexual dreams, the lover you're with might be what your subconscious has realized you are lacking.

A woman that was studied in this article talked about dreaming of sex with her neighbor, when in reality, she hated him.  He was an impromptu sort of artist with a lot of creativity, but he only worked just enough to pay bills, which she considered lazy.  The article's author suggests that these free, passionate, creative attributes is what she really desired - not the man himself.

But, I have spoken to many people about dream lovers that do not exist in reality; they are strictly fictional 'dream lovers'.  I'm sure the same basic principles apply, but a lot of whom I spoke said that they have a single, recurring dream lover they see often.

I myself may be sexually active in dream land, but it's always a different person, and they hardly ever actually exist in the waking world.  (Barring my last sexually charged dream, wherein I awkwardly awoke feeling as though I'd had a threesome with my best friend and her sister.)  But if I look deeper, and describe these dreamtime lovers in four or five words, will I too see four or five personality traits I wish I had?

From the Red Love dream: he was confident, beautiful, forward, and deeply caring.
But, but, not to sound conceited, but I feel like I pretty much fit all that.  Perhaps my subconscious has determined that I'm not as much of any of that as I think I am?

Also, it's no secret that virgins dream of sex, or sexual encounters.  I found that when I first had sex, the quality/duration/frequency of sexual dreams actually sort of lessened for me, but only slightly.  Also on that note, I rarely dream about penetration whatsoever.  Most of my sexy happy dreams involve what I'd call heavy touching, or lotsa of playing around.  I think it's because it's the arousal I crave and not the act itself...?

Maybe it's the forbiddenness about it that draws virgins into sexy dreams though?  Or maybe it was simply hormones.  Because while I'm sure a lot of sexual dreams are meant to be symbolic of some deeper meaning, I'm also sure some (if not most!) exist because humans are horny bastards.

That all from me tonight!  Toodles~

image source: http://www.gettyimages.com/

The Dollface / What's it like to get your vagina licked? / Invisibility

So, sadly, had a lot of random dream clips last night but only remember three.  I got woken up a LOT last night through my attempted sleeping time, and that generally makes it impossible to have long, worthwhile dreams and just leaves me with broken, short pieces.

But here they are!

I was getting ready in front of a mirror.  I had long, thick eyelashes and dark eyeliner like a doll and short, curly hair with a mini top hat.  What really fascinated me was that I was brushing bangs.  Bangs!  I have not had those since I was pre-teen.


I was fricken gorgeous, but it was still kinda weird and didn't feel like me.  I'll make a new label for dreams where I'm not myself from here on in.

Sitting in a classroom, someone opened up a discussion of, "What is oral sex like for females?"


The person asking it was male.  The first person to answer was... TA DA.  One of my ex girlfriends.  (The most recent one.  Previously referred to as the one who was extremely important to me, but childishly blocked me online and went on to rant about me in public forums.)


While she was answering, I interrupted her with the most brilliant definition I could think of.


"It's great, you know, it's warm and all.  But not nearly enough friction to get off on!  You're better off pleasing your girl some other way!"


Cue silence as this jewel of wisdom sinks in.


Ahahaa....


So, we'll just call this ex by her name, Brianna.  Tired of these 'previously referred to' bits.

So, this is her first appearance in my dreams since we stopped talking about a month and a half ago, so it's pretty strange.  Also, since I never put my mouth on her junk I think my brain was just filling in the blanks, since I know her current boyfriend has done her the favor by now.  And I doubt she feels as 'whatever' about it as I do, so yes.  Weirdness.

Probably what made me dream of her now was I just found out yesterday she's been calling Jerry/my live-in love bird constantly over the last week or so (as in, 25 missed calls), which sits even stranger with me.  The unease wormed its way into my subconscious.

Oh, oh, wait, one more.

In a place where magic of some kind is possible, a group of people are unknowingly playing a survival game.


Like the Marauder's Map of Harry Potter, some people are given a map of similar nature showing where the opponents and teammates are.


It's a group of humans struggling against another group who want to kill them.


So I have an ability that proves quite useful, although short lived: I can cast invisibility, but it only lasts for half a minute or so and does not mask sounds that I'd make.  I find out I can also use it to shield more than myself, but only get to use it on one other person simultaneously.


I do it by putting my hand over my head, revolving it in a circle a couple times, then making a fist.  As long as the fist is above us, we should be invisible, but eventually the strength will run out and I'll have to recast.


There was one room on the map that if you entered, for some reason, instead of giving an exact location next to your name, it would say "N/A" or "??"


I figured out that was the safest place to sit and think, because hell, whatever was trying to kill us was mighty powerful.


When these things first started appearing to take us out, my coworker Mark (WTF ARE YOU DOING HERE AGAIN) came up to me crying, saying he could not find his (real life) wife-to-be, Angela, and feared she was probably dead already.


I confided in him that I could not find Jerry, but I hoped for the best.


The dream end with me and one other person holed up in the magic N/A room, shivering in fear.  A group of the invaders comes in and I shield us, but they are in there so long talking I have to recast.  That split second where we were visible was so frightening I almost couldn't hold my hands steady enough to cast.


I think this was just my brain having a little fun.  It does this sometimes, gives me interesting circumstances like straight out of a good novel or movie.  Fear is the spice of dreams!  Ahahaaa.

My brain likes to decide what is good for plot and implements it.  I wonder if all writers have dreams that play out like stories.

So, yes, this is everything that I remember!

I think I slept for... uh... at least eight hours, between all the waking up.  I went to bed fairly hungry for once.

The Distant Moon

So, this girl who was my best friend for the longest time and I are having a rough spot right now.  I've known her since I was freaking 11 or something like that.  My stress?  A couple years back, she got a boyfriend and it took over her life.

I felt completely cut off.  She stopped making any efforts to talk to me, spend time with me, or... anything.  We have known each other for years, and it really, really hurt me.  She is one of the most important people in my life.

The last time I went to see her, after months of not seeing her, I hit a bit of a catch.  She had her boyfriend over when I was expecting it to just be us.

I tried my fucking hardest to ignore the boy lying in her bed in his underwear and just talk to her, but inside, I felt myself getting sick.  As in, a depression sick like I've never known.

I apologized for being weird, but didn't have the words to explain why I was so messed up that night.

I don't blame her for being happy with a boyfriend, and lord knows I overreacted.  It's just the feeling of utter replacement I have when it comes to her.

Look, I know that the one you marry/intend to marry might be more important than your friend, even if she/he is your best friend.  But I'm talking about complete shut off from someone I thought I was important to.

And now, this scenario has replayed in my life, over and over.  It nearly destroyed one friendship, and so far has completely wrecked another (although this one in particular might have been doomed to begin with, judging by the girl.)

So, last night I had two dreams about this girl, that I've always called Tsuki, and I've woken up with renewed vigor to contact her.

Because if sheeee doesn't respond to the text I sent her before Christmas, I can always bite the bullet and call her boyfriend.  I have his number in my phone, for whatever fucking reason.  (I think she may have texted me from it once, idk, but it's freaking ironic to have it in there regardless.)

So., the dreams:

I had a lesbian three way with her and her sister.  I don't remember anything else, sadly.


Woah, now, hold the phone!  What the hell happened there!

Okay, after all that talk about platonic importance, and I start off with this?

I tend to fall in love with my best friends.  It's an issue.  That's how I got my first girlfriend, converting a straight girl.  (btw, not worth the effort.)  After that, I really wanted to date Tsuki for awhile. and I admitted it straight up to her, but I didn't try to push it because I wanted her friendship more, and straight girls are a pain anyway.

I think this dream was repressed sexual tension I had for her, maybe.  But it's not like I really had any intention of dating her or her sister.  Dreams just like to be curve balls sometimes.

Alright, so, next one.  As always, leaving in the parts that don't make sense.

I swallowed hard, phone in hand.  I was sitting in my small bedroom, alone.


I wondered aloud, "Where is Jerry?"


My brother walked in and asked me if I had a jacket that would fit him.  I picked up my favorite one, an XL in men's, and had him try it on.  It fit.  He promised to bring it back asap and went out the door.


So I called her.  The phone rand, and an older man picked up the phone.  I talked with him for a little while, nothing important.  Just, "How're you?", la de da.


Eventually, he gave the phone to Tsuki, who was happy to hear from me.  I profusely apologized for being such a dick before and begged her to try again for me.


She said she never got the text.  Just that simple.  That it didn't go through.


My phone had done that before, so I felt a wave of relief at such a logical explanation.


So, we decided on a time and place.  End of dream.


Also, I vaguely remember that there was more to this - like that I was in the same room with her while she was having sex with him or something, I forget.  It was weird.

But anyway, I'm definitely going to try contacting her again.  I miss her like hell.

I don't think I ate before bed.  I think I slept for about eight and a half hours or so.

Red Love

I have just had the most amazing dream, so I'll be doing this a little differently than normal.

Usually I talk about a dream after the text of it, but I'm going to preface it in advance so that I do not interrupt the flow of it and it reads more like a book passage than my usual ramblings.

The boy in this dream abruptly changed appearance, but this went unnoticed in lala dream land.  He started out looking like that Akira guy from Eden of the East and ended up with white hair.

both of the links I have to these images indicates that they do not belong to the people who posted them - so sorry, no credit source :C  I have no idea where these originally came from.

I've been asked before if because I like anime so much, if my dreams are ever animated.

Usually, when a cartoon character appears in my dreams, it is like a soft 3D model, with bright colors and proportions (eyes, etc) unlike real life.  However, they look very realistic, despite the high saturation of their colors.

So rather than this boy looking like a bright, 2D cartoon, he was a living, breathing thing with realistic shadows and physical movement.

So I will write this out now C:  I still left in whatever parts do not make sense in reality.  Telling it like is was.

Also, sorry about any tense inconsistencies.  I tend to revert to present tense without thinking about it.  I tried to correct most of it.

It was the future, but you would not even know it.

Everything was the same, only older.  I lived in a town so horribly like that of the twenty-first century.  The only defining difference was our entertainment.

People traveled by lit motorcycles like something straight out of Tron Legacy and people could wear whatever they wanted, or nothing at all if they so chose.

Movie theatres as they were known were no longer in existence.  Their replacement: a completely immersive experience that played more like a video game, with programmed characters that would sometimes even be able to directly interact with the audience with AI, and a screen shaped like a half-dome to cover your entire peripheral vision.  Not only were the images in 3D, but no glasses are required - it's as if you're actually sitting in the middle of the movie, complete with heat, wind gushes, scents...everything.

The best part?  Screenings for you and whoever you brought with you only.  No more assholes texting during the movie, that one guy who laughs really loud at scenes that aren't even that funny, that one whore who put on too much perfume after work, or any of the others.

The holidays were near, so I was just finishing decoration on a large cedar tree.  I had lovingly strung lights all around this 50-foot monster, and was just connecting the electricity.  I literally tried to turn the lights on with my mind, but of course, it didn't work.  But one plug later, the entire tree came to life, sparkling in the night like hundreds of multicolored stars, from gold to red to lavender and back again.

The next day.  I was in high school, maybe a junior or a senior.  It was at a relaxing day at the school's pool, just unwinding after class, when I first saw him.  The class clown, the class idiot.  Bellyflopping around in the pool like a twit for attention.

At first, not only did I feel nothing towards him, I sat and pondered about what makes a child such a glutton for attention.  Parents that do not pay enough attention?  But perhaps we all need different levels of attention to feel complete.  I myself was a latch-key kid, and when my parents finally started having time to spend with me, I still holed up in my room.  I do not seek attention, but do not shy from it.

But look at this dumbass.  Splashing everyone.  And they all liked it.  What the hell.

He climbed from the water and passed me with a smile.  I just stared at him.

I suddenly decided that nothing was left for me to learn in the world, at all.  "This is it," I said.  "All the knowledge in the world is already in my head."  I stood, gathered my things, and began my slow journey of stepping over sunbathers to go change.  "I'll take my full head elsewhere."

I realized how vain this sounded, but I didn't care.  I just no longer had any wish to think hard on anything, having deemed all the important things to know already within me.

I was taken aback at how quickly this class clown came into my life.  A few stray touches here and there, little quiet questions and beautiful, wondering eyes, and before long, I had already said yes to dating him.

It played out like a bad, bad version of a modern Romeo and Juliet.  Here we were, happy in young love, unsure and almost afraid of each other.  I had never really dated before, neither had he.  My breasts were soft and foreign to his shy fingers, and his wide shoulders and deep voice left me strung out on pumps of adrenaline.

We continued in secret, unsure of where all this devotion and passion would get us.

"Hurt," he would say.  We both knew it.

"My parents are crazy," he would warn.  "I don't want them to know about this."

He took me to a movie.

Seated on a white park bench in the middle of a starry, dreamy fantasy film, we leaned against each other, tired. It was a school night, already pressing eleven.  I had to be up at seven for school.  But I determined that this was worth it.  I might even skip class the next day.

Without any words, he leaned himself over me on the bench.  My heartbeat fluttered.  His eyes drew mine in.

His teeth pressed into my throat in a surprisingly rough bite.  Then, he nipped at my ears, behind them, on the lobes, beneath them.  His hands held fast to my shoulders as he drowned himself in arousal, and I did the same.  I felt my body move against him as my insides melted with lust.

More teeth, more teeth.  He moaned, settling down over me completely.

A part of me wanted to tell him to stop, because at any moment the characters in this movie may want to have a chat.  But it was such a small, small part.

His mouth was hot, like heaven.

Without much time at all, like a whirlwind, love causes much damage.

Our relationship grew by the day.  Countless time passed, and we still shared our secret of each other.  Our parents were equally unaware.

One day, just before sunset, he begged me to come over.

"In daylight?" I asked, taken aback.

"I can't keep this a secret anymore."

I could not have agreed more.

Thrilled by the thought of liberation from this suppressed hell, I ran to him.  I wanted to love him openly, so much that it hurt.  Keeping it under wraps was tearing us both apart.

So I went to him.  He let me in the back and led me to the attic, with an attached balcony, and I could tell something was very wrong.

He was wearing no shirt, with plain pale jeans.  Across his chest were strips of thin white cloth, like a makeshift bandage.

His eyes were cold.

He handed me a wide, flat brush dipped in red paint and told me to color his arms.

"What's going on?" I asked, fear in my voice.

He did not respond, and merely waited for me to begin.

I dragged the soft bristles over his skin, trailing the red over the little hairs on his arms.  I got lost in the task, stroking in smooth swipes, covering his tone completely with the burst of scarlet.

I felt like I was doing something intimate.  His inhales were slow.

I was suddenly aware that in one clenched first he was holding his phone when the flash lit up the darkening space between us as the sun left us bereft.

My eyes dilated sharply, painfully, but I did not move.

"What was that for?"

His smile was sad.  "I want to remember you as you are.  Not crying."

I frowned.  "Crying?"

I covered his knuckles in the paint, and he dropped the phone.  Before I could finish my work, he pulled me into a strong, sudden embraced that knocked the lungfull of air right out of my chest.

He leaned his soft lips to my ear, whispering heatedly, slowly, purposefully, "Right here.  Right now."

My blood ran hot as my heart constricted tightly in my chest.  With every pump, a new squeeze of pain.  I gasped, dizzying.

I repeated, frightened, "What is going on?!"

But I could not fight off the rush of arousal.  Of the blood rushing to the skin beneath my hips.

More teeth, perfect and rough.  He sighed in longing.  The red of his arms rubbed onto my white jacket, staining it red everywhere he held me.

The door beside us flung open.

There was much shouting as he attempted to fight off his father.  I wanted to help, to do something, but I was powerless to stop two grown adults from punching the living hell out of each other.

With one last look to me, he said, "I love you."

He ran past me, leaving both me and his opponent lost and confused.  He dashed through a door to the edge of the balcony that lay just outside this tiny little room, and I understood.

This tiny little attic was where he was forced to live.

By parents, he meant father.  And his father not only did not pay attention to him, he loathed him.

And he had found me, a light in his dark world, but without this light, he was determined to die.

With the bandages fluttering around him like wings, he fell.

I understood the meaning of 'red'.

Red blood, like life.  Red, like passion, lust, craving, wanting, delirium, desire.  Red, like heartbreak, and anger.

When I screamed in agony, that was red, too.

I followed his footsteps while his father had no time to react.  Over the edge, I was flying.  Flying down to his broken form.

Or so I thought.

I landed, but it was not as painful as jumping off a second story might feel.  I was numb.  And he was smiling at me.

As soon as we were sure his father had reentered the house, we ran.  He picked me up from the ground by the hand, and we ran.

The next day, the bodies are reported missing.  My mother was openly desperate to find my remains, while his father openly did not bother to care.

We were free.

Did we survive the fall?  Were we alive, or ghosts?

How did two people who did not know each other for long enough to constitute love to feel it so completely?

I don't know, but sometimes I'm treated to wonderful dreams by my head.  :D

I especially enjoy dreams with that sexual edge,  Umf umf.

Notes:

I used to live in a house with a giant cedar tree in the front yard.

This year I've hated the thought of Christmas.  Lots of loss and sadness in this apartment, between me and Jerry.  Maybe I still really wanted to enjoy the holidays despite it all, so I decorated a tree in my sleep?  Who knows.

I did not enjoy Eden of the East, I felt like it had so much damn potential but so much was left out / inconclusive.  They needed to make that shit longer than 12 fucking episodes.

Also, maybe TMI, but I got my period yesterday on Christmas Eve.  I kinda wonder if that played a part in the red theme of the dream.  Oooookay.  XD

All in all, this dream had the perfect mix of fear and arousal.  Such a wonderful combination.  /__\

Okay, off the open presents.  tataaaa.

Ate McDonalds right before bed.  Large fries and a chicken sammich.  Slept for... maybe seven hours.