Posts Tagged ‘ writing

Dream 02.11.27

This is the third time I’ve had a dream where Jorenko is Neo.

Neo was sent back in time to help something in the 1970s, but he was having trouble. Upon entry into the 1970s, he landed in some telephone wires. He struggled in them, but didn’t die from crossed wires. (I remember saying in the dream how stupid the director was for letting that pass final edit.)

He landed between two old cars as one drove off. The car that drove off contained Mel Gibson and Danny Glover. He was supposed to help them, and he just missed them. He chased after them across the parking lot, but didn’t catch up. He stood at the end of the lot, next to a brick building, and looked shamed.
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A Call to the Land Lord

I just got off the phone with Kurt, the landlord of our nice little shithell apartment.

I had called because of Maria.

Just under a week ago, Maria accidentally broke Ashley’s baking stone, an expensive piece of cookware. An honest mistake made while she was cleaning, and a replacement was to be ordered right away. Maria was directed to the website, where it was assumed she’d order it from. She didn’t do it that night, and she left for the weekend, so we don’t even know if she actually ordered it.
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On Reality

Gash: If you want to get down to it, our perception of reality is only a series of electrical impressions interpreted by our brain, so how do you know what you are seeing, smelling, tasting, feeling and hearing is actually what is there? Kind of mind-boggling, don’t you think?

Yengwa: No, not really. All of your arguments always come down to that same damn line from the Matrix. It’s not like you suddenly had a revelation and came up with it yourself. Besides, if what is real is defined by our brains, then how do we know our brains are real?

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Dream 02.11.10

I had a dream we were moving. Mom, Dad, and I only, though. Tony wasn’t there, but my parents were insisting on getting everything packed up right away. We had just locked up several things in a mausoleum, and my parents had taken special care to place traps with those things. Returning to packing, I threw my mother’s clothes with her stuff, and mine with mine. After everything as packed, I decided to make backups of everything on my HDD, so that I wouldn’t loose everything again. I copied everything to an external HDD and shoved it in my pocket.

Later …

I was returning home from a trip of some sort. As we pulled into “Greystone” where we were to switch to another bus, I called my mother. I was worried about getting on the other bus because it would be taking me further from home, making the drive to pick me up longer. Mother told me my father was already there, so I got in his truck and he drove off.

The direction we went wasn’t too the main road. The road we were on had a bridge ahead of us, and my father said he was worried about the darkness at the base of the bridge, because he couldn’t see if there were holes or anything. “I’m more worried about the whiteness at the top – I mean, does the bridge just end there?” I said.

Damned clipping. More of the bridge appeared as we went up it, but, sure enough, it ended. The truck makes a mighty leap into the air, and we watch down from the clouds for the place we’re supposed to land. We land, and start going downhill. After a while, we come to a visible edge.

We exit the truck, and, for whatever reason, Harry Potter is there, too. When the truck was shooting off the end, there was a far-view of it, and I could see the shape of the road-maze we were on. It looked a bit Sonicish: curly roads with red railing.

Harry Potter explains to us that this is a magical roadway, and we just need to walk over the edge, and we’ll be upside down, like David Bowie in Labyrinth.

Harry does it. It works. Dad does it. He falls. I cling to the edges and crawl over the edge. Harry Potter laughs at me as I’m about to fall.

Later …

It was RPGish, and one of the characters was an angel. Every time she said, “JESUS H. CHRIST!” when things weren’t going her way in a battle, Jesus came in, whipped the shit out of the enemy, and went away. This happened three times in the dream.

Later …

Tony Soprano and his crew were helping me get some money out of a guy. Prior to them showing up, I was at a bar, realized I needed something to finish a quest, ran over to this guy’s place. I wanted to purchase a woman, and he made me pay in advance. Later, he gave me a doll instead of a woman. I wanted my money back and he refused.

Even More Maria

She just walked in, looked in the mirror, said “Trust me, girl, I know.”

Then she waits a brief moment and tries to start up the conversation we just had wherein she didn’t detect I insulted her intelligence.

So I went on and insulted her intelligence, and she didn’t get any of it.

I explained to her how her generalizations are usually wrong and offensive, and she’s like “what generalizations”

To which I replied the pastor conversation (wherein she stated that any man of god who is not a Catholic priest is a man of the devil and will trick you), assuming all online communities are cults, among other things.

“I never said any of that!”


She denied every point I brought to mind, and she could only defend herself with actions that happened today. She said I’m being rude, but she couldn’t exactly place why other than I’ve told her to shut up today.

She said she’s PREFER me to interrupt her to affirm what she’s saying. I see that as ruder that asking her to not repeat herself. She would prefer that I smile and nod than counter her non-working mind’s views.

Christ, did this girl just totally ignore anything regarding free-thought when she was growing up?

She doesn’t realize how stupid she’s making herself look when she repeats herself constantly. I attempt to explain this to her. I tell her that people might not comment not because they don’t get what she’s saying, but because they don’t get WHY she’s saying, and saying so much. She replies that I should say something. Again, I explain to her that “I will not speak while someone else is speaking, it’s rude to talk ove-”

Maria: “Nonononono, yo-”

Me: “You’re talking over me right now, be quiet for a second so I can explain this to you. When you talk, you don’t breathe: you repeat yourself right after you just said it, and you leave no room for someone to comment without talking over you. And when I do take the time to follow your rules and comment while you’re speaking, you don’t shut up and you don’t let me add to the conversation.”

Maria: “Nonono, you don’t get it, I just want a ‘uh-huh’ or something.”

Me: “I give you that, but you’re too busy talking to notice; You’re too busy saying, ‘Trust me, I know’ five times to things you barely get.”

Maria: “What do I barely get? I mean, what is it that you’ve told me that I don’t understand? What is something you’ve explained that you think I don’t understand?”

Me: “My situation at the arcade (I get tokens from doing side work for the owner. She thinks I get tokens by flirting with everyone.). My relationship with Troy. (She assumes he’s my ‘Chicago Boyfriend’ while Jorenko is my ‘Out of Town Boyfriend’) My request to not be involved in your dealings with others.”

Maria: “It’s just my way of saying, ‘Okay, whatever.'”

Me: “Wouldn’t it be easier to say, ‘Okay, whatever,’ than pretending you understand and making your own false generalizations about it?”

Maria: “Generalizations? Wha?”

Me: *scoff, smirk*

Maria: “Okay, fine, whatever, I get it, you’re so rude.”

Me: “At least I don’t try to spark up conversation with a person who’s just going to to bathroom.”

Maria: “What, you mean this morning? All I said was hi and you just ignored me!”

Me: “I waved, I nodded, and I said ‘Hi’ back.”

Maria: “I didn’t see that.”

Me: “Then you continued talking to the TV.”

Maria: “I do that a lot.”

Me: “You talked loud enough, as if you were trying to comment to me about what was going on on the TV.”

Maria: “Nonononono, girl, I talk to myself while watching tv. It’s just commenting on what’s on, Ashley does the same.”

Me: “You usually make verbal comments when someone else is in the room, which would not be ‘all the time.'”

Maria: “It’s not like I talk to myself.”

Me: “You just said you did.”

Maria: “Wha? You’re rude! I just comment to no one about what I think is funny or stupid on TV”

Me: “So you enjoy narrating your thought process. I can live with that.”

Maria: “Narrating? What does that mean? You’re rude. It’s not narrating.”

Me: “It’ Narrating. Making verbal your thoughts or actions.”

Maria: “You see? You get it. And the other things I say mean that I don’t care.”

Me: “Alright, now that I know that, I won’t take anything you say to heart.”

Maria: “You know, you’ve got your own sayings and stupid stuff like that, too.” *leaves the room*

I dare her to name any. She’d probably say that my use of three-syllable words is rude. She’d probably say that I’m scary. She’s probably say I’m stupid for hanging out at an arcade. She’d probably say that I’m scary because I play videogames. She’d probably say I’m satanic because I spend time on the internet.

More Maria

Maria: (insert long one-sided conversation about nothing in particular in which she repeats herself five or so times) “… haha, you’re so funny, you’re like, ‘Ah! Our school’ and you hide behind the door, haha, the commercial for our school comes on and you’re-”

Me: “Yes, I understand that you find my actions humorous, but do you have to repeat it fifteen times?”

Maria: “Well, you look like you don’t get it, so that’s why I repeat myself, like you’re giving me this ‘huh?’ look, you know?”

Me: “It’s more of a look of ‘Why the hell is she repeating herself?”

Maria: “You take so long to respond, you’re like, haha, wait wait wait ‘this is why'”

Me: “That’s because some people actually take the time to think about what they’re going to say before they say it.”

Maria: “Haha, you’re so funny. What do you mean by that? I don’t get it.”

Me: “I figured it’d go over your head.”

Maria: (as I am walking into my room) “Hahah, you’re so funny, Amanda, you scare me.” (returns to watching Jerry Springer).

Dream 02.11.06

I don’t know about the plot of this dream, or even if there was one, but it was loosely based on Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (or however it’s spelt)

There were dementors chasing me (I replaced Harry) around. Herm- *cough* Ms. Granger was played by Ashley, and was obsessed with checking the mail. Snape was played by James from the arcade. Jorenko was Ron.

Odd dreams. Snow in it, too.

Before that was a futurama dream. Snow in that, too. Bender was forced to dress as a “nice” santa for X-mas, and he didn’t want to, so he faked his own death, then he and I went out to the movies for the hell of it.

Dream 02.11.04

I’m fairly certain this one started in the middle of something, because that’s where my first memory of it comes in. Some guy (I’m pretty sure it was Jon Dark) and I had just finished fighting of a bunch of armed guards. More were coming, and we had no chance to escape.

I look at him, saying, “It was nice knowing you,” and give him a quick kiss. I’m certain we are going to die, because I’m about to pull my trump card – I have one final attack that would get rid of all of them . . . and us. Jon is scared and confused, but I am calm. We are all going to die – why am I not scared?

A blue wave of energy rotates it’s way into the room, going through the walls and making it’s way into the room we’re in. I look at it and smile, happy to see this end. Jon freaks, asking what’s going on, what’s going to happen, etc.

He hides behind me, and starts kissing my neck.

And then we die.

The next thing my eyes see is an underworld. Not really a fiery Hell, but more of a series of underground caves that just happen to have lava floors in some places. It is, of course, familiar to me, but one element is not – Jon. How did he get here? More importantly, how do I get rid of him?

I explain to him what this place is – It is the home of the angels and demons, and this is where we are placed until we are issued a new body. He asked me what I am, angel or demon, and I explain that I am one quarter demon and (this part made me laugh when I woke up) my mother was half-Shikima . As I explained, I walked do different places, doing my usual routine, and Jon followed me. I remember him muttering, “why couldn’t you be an angel?” I laugh to myself and think, “I never said what the other 3/4 were.”

Whoops, time to regen.

Stabbin thugs, and other things I can’t remember, because stupid bitches talk loud and harm my brain and memory.


Maria just got back from her weekend trip to her parent’s house.

First thing she asks me to do is rat our anything Ashley said to me about her.

I told her to leave me alone. She was shocked. She then tried to convince me that it was alright for me to tell her anything Ashley had said about her. I again told her no, leave me out of this, and never try to bring me into this again.

And she left.



When she left, she didn’t shut the door. She just returned to shut it, but only shut it half way. I don’t mean half-way as in she didn’t pull it closed, I mean it’s literally half-way. 45-degree angle.

Dream 02.11.03

Dream 1 was the steps to Muhon on crazy. Seriously. I dreamt the steps to Solitary. Might have something to do with the eight hours of Pump It Up yesterday.

Dream 2, I was in Ohio, in an apartment that resembled my Aunt Mary’s from a while ago. I was a bit angry at my mother for holding me there so long, and inside. After a while, she let me go outside, and I used a pair of shingles as skis, and chopsticks as ski poles. There was snow in the large parking lot, so I skied all around the place, and even down the mounds that the plow made.

But soon, it was time to go. I was happy to go, but still sad to have to stop skiing. I had to go because my train was leaving soon, and my mother just seemed to ignore the fact that we’d been there so long. I recall (in the dream) that mother had said, “Don’t worry about bringing your bags and ticket. We won’t be there long.”

It’s now about forty-five minutes until my train leaves, and we’ve still got to go home and get my stuff. (Mother has done stuff similar to this in real life.)

Time passes, and I’m at the train station. I rush to get my train. For whatever reason, Jorenko’s there waiting for me. We’re both going back to Chicago, I was just separated from him for a bit.

The trains resemble CTA trains from the outside, but on the inside, they’re two-floor things, with first class on the top floor.
Jorenko and I are seated in the rear car, with seats facing in, and behind us, the back window. For whatever reason, we’re permitted to decorate the area as we see fit. Apparently, it’s going to be a long ride.

About a half hour into the traveling, though, we hear a crash. Someone runs into our car and yells, “The lift has fallen through!” The train grinds to a halt, and we soon find out that the lift on a car near the front has fallen not only the small drop, but completely through the floor of the train. Everyone who had crammed into the small lift as a joke had died (crushed under the train) and they took others with them by tearing out the floor.

Before they evacuated the train, they needed it off the tracks. (I think these were high-speed, always-moving, never-delayed trains, so it was imperative that we be off the track, lest we take out the next train as well.) We rolled in reverse, then forward again, then in reverse on another track. After a while, each car was lifted, separately, by a large crane. This meant we would be the last ones lifted.

Nothing had happened to us, and we didn’t even see the thing that had caused our wreck. Jorenko and I started packing up our little decorations. One of the things I had was a little green Q-bert, and a Mr. Saturn figurine. I reached for them, and someone else reached for them at the same time.

“Those are mine,” I said.
“Nuh-uh, you probably don’t even know what they are!”
“Q-bert and Mr. Saturn.” I grabbed them.
“Let go of them!” the fat man-child said, and tried to get them from me. I pulled on them, and bit at him until he let go, then put the things in my bag. I had also kicked him a few times.

It was our turn to be lifted. Jorenko and I had buckled ourselves in again, and held onto our bags. The other people laughed at us, saying it was an unnecessary precaution, the cranes were perfectly safe.

The cranes worked by grabbing with two separate cranes each end of the car. The far end, where the people laughing at us were sitting, slipped out, and the slammed into the ground. They cried, were shocked and appalled that such things could happen to them. Had Jorenko and I not been buckled in, we’d have fallen face first from one end of the car to the other, straight into them.

We tried to keep from laughing. The fact that the other crane dropped us next helped us do so. We were off the track, so they just rolled our car the rest of the way, then let us out.

Well, fuck, we can’t go to Chicago yet.

Dream 3 somewhat stems from Dream 2, but all knowledge from Dream 2 is forgotten.

Mall time. Jorenko’s gone. I’m with someone I don’t know very well showing them around. I’m pointing out restaurants and stores, asking if she wants to go in anything, and she doesn’t. (I remember this mall from an old dream.) We get around the entire mall, and she hasn’t looked in anything. “Well,” I said, “I’m going to the arcade, you’re welcome to join me.”

She silently followed, and got in the VR machine. I choose my character to be one of Cassandra’s female body guards in Perfect Dark. Another player joins, and chooses a blonde buzzcut male, resembling the American ideal of a soldier, or Duke Nukem in olive drab.

We have jetpacks in the level, and I make full use of it. The other player and I have shootouts, per the norm of the game, but he takes to hiding under the platforms and shooting up.

Camping. Bad camping at that. The platforms are long and easy to get under from many angles. I sneak up behind him, under a platform, and take him out.

I quickly get out from under there and move up to a top corner of the place. It’s dark, he can’t see me. I can see the entire level, and I watch him check all the platforms for me. When he comes up from the final one, I blast him with a cannon ball.

The game goes on for a while longer, but it’s a blowout. I win yay.

Dream end.