(no subject)
I was writing a lot last night, so luckily my notepad was still right by the bed this morning when I woke up from this dream, which is loaded with vague and metaphorical references to my real life:
I am in Mexico, in a sandy desert. I am with a faceless friend. The feeling is that there is a war going on, or about to start, or the repercussions of which would reach us soon. There is an old house covered in graffiti, some of the walls are torn out, and people are squatting here. Some of them carry guns. There is a large barn, maybe two, off to the side. There is this guy named Enrique. I know his name because it is spelled out in 8-bit Nintendo-ish letters hovering over his head. He keeps jumping off the top of the barn, even though it is like 50 feet high. He is coaxing me to try it. I consider it heavily when he starts telling me not to have any fear, as if that were my trigger, as if breaking my leg is not nearly as horrible as the fear of breaking it.
-switch-
A few of us are in the kitchen, which is in the bottom right rear of this house. I'm opening cupboards, and I discover peanut butter. The guy I'm with, who has been squatting there, says he doesn't know what peanut butter is or why it is in his kitchen. I make him a sandwich and he loves it. He shoots his rifle into the air and says something like, "Viva la peanut butter!" My friend and I decide it's about time to go to sleep, so we go upstairs and find an empty room with a couple of nasty mattresses on the floor, covered in bugs and dust. I tell him, "Don't worry, these are just Mexican mattresses," which convinces him enough to lie down and go to sleep. I don't remember lying down.
-switch-
Tanks are rolling up into the yard. Everyone is excited, but I don't want their war.
-switch-
I'm in another house, a bunch of college kids live here. People are drinking beer, and a masked goat is roaming around. Someone tells me they were using it in a play, but it is not explained why they left the mask on the goat. I go upstairs and decide to take a bath in this huge tub that's almost like a small pool. All of the shampoo and soap is purple, which I think is gross, but someone tells me that they only believe in using purple soap for some holistic reason. When I get out, I find this goat, and I take off his mask. He starts talking to me, and I freak out and ask him how he learned to talk, and he says "I can't talk, you're just reading my mind." I ask him how I could do that, and he says, "Some things just can't be explained." So I go around reading the minds of a few people in the house, which is intense because they aren't at all thinking what I might have expected.
I am in Mexico, in a sandy desert. I am with a faceless friend. The feeling is that there is a war going on, or about to start, or the repercussions of which would reach us soon. There is an old house covered in graffiti, some of the walls are torn out, and people are squatting here. Some of them carry guns. There is a large barn, maybe two, off to the side. There is this guy named Enrique. I know his name because it is spelled out in 8-bit Nintendo-ish letters hovering over his head. He keeps jumping off the top of the barn, even though it is like 50 feet high. He is coaxing me to try it. I consider it heavily when he starts telling me not to have any fear, as if that were my trigger, as if breaking my leg is not nearly as horrible as the fear of breaking it.
-switch-
A few of us are in the kitchen, which is in the bottom right rear of this house. I'm opening cupboards, and I discover peanut butter. The guy I'm with, who has been squatting there, says he doesn't know what peanut butter is or why it is in his kitchen. I make him a sandwich and he loves it. He shoots his rifle into the air and says something like, "Viva la peanut butter!" My friend and I decide it's about time to go to sleep, so we go upstairs and find an empty room with a couple of nasty mattresses on the floor, covered in bugs and dust. I tell him, "Don't worry, these are just Mexican mattresses," which convinces him enough to lie down and go to sleep. I don't remember lying down.
-switch-
Tanks are rolling up into the yard. Everyone is excited, but I don't want their war.
-switch-
I'm in another house, a bunch of college kids live here. People are drinking beer, and a masked goat is roaming around. Someone tells me they were using it in a play, but it is not explained why they left the mask on the goat. I go upstairs and decide to take a bath in this huge tub that's almost like a small pool. All of the shampoo and soap is purple, which I think is gross, but someone tells me that they only believe in using purple soap for some holistic reason. When I get out, I find this goat, and I take off his mask. He starts talking to me, and I freak out and ask him how he learned to talk, and he says "I can't talk, you're just reading my mind." I ask him how I could do that, and he says, "Some things just can't be explained." So I go around reading the minds of a few people in the house, which is intense because they aren't at all thinking what I might have expected.