recent dreams
last night I dreamed I was traveling in germany, trying to find my (tyrolean) roots. I stopped at a cafe. Which became a tavern. I asked a couple colorful ugly locals if there was anything worth seeing. They muttered something about Americans. Directed me to this strange out of the way place, where I could find something memorable.
It turned out to be an internment camp, and inside lived a rich emaciated man, who was of course Nosferatu.
around this time I woke up.
(thoughts: I've been thinking about taking a sudden vacation to Europe. Strange that this is where my subconscious fears took it).
Sunday night (Night before last) I had a better dream:
I was acting a part in a Shakespearean styled play. All dressed up in glimmering tin armor. I played the part of a knight who was being role played by an angry 16 year old nerd, for some slow paced D&D style sword&sorcery game. I ranted on endlessly about the frustrations of being stuck in this role, controlled by unseen forces which I couldn't believe were a benevolent god.
I know there was a lot to it. but all I could remember when I woke up was the ending. I was in a giant hall arguing with the king for the hearts and minds of the lords and nobles (and thus, the people). I had become a barbarian by ignoring all the rules and customs that were required of a shining knight. The king had once been a barbarian, but had killed his way to ruler. The king was played by a scruffy bearded Brendan Gleeson.
So I was giving a big monologue about how royalty and intellectuals were fools to ignore our base animal natures, and its effects on our logic and emotions. I walked through the crowd, and opened several large doors to what seemed giant fridges. Inside were the heads of various cursed races (elves, dwarves) whom I figured could be free if they'd just reject the laws that kept them bound.
After ranting all poetical: I turned to the king for his rebuttal.
He stood behind my wife, and pulled out a fat knife. Which is to say, it was shaped like a spade (as wide as it was long. a squat triangle). He stabbed her in the side, like jesus. As she crumpled, the lights when out.
The audience sat in stunned silence. Then the lights flashed on. Uplighting him, so that his shadow was thrown huge on the wall/corner behind him, he shook the dagger left and right - spraying ridiculous amounts of black blood. A screeching wail accompanied (like twisting metal). The lights went out again.
play over. some clapping. people got up and started leaving. the actors took a bow. I was sitting in the audience now, maybe 30 aisles back.
Then there was a Q&A. I remember being impressed than when some snotty bitch started complaining about the lack of female roles, the fat nerd next to her managed an intelligent insult to her short sighted self centered bullshittery.
(and that was that. I woke. it was about 6am, an hour before my alarm would go off. Couldn't get back to sleep. Decided the play should be called "Role: the play" and could be a one act.)
It turned out to be an internment camp, and inside lived a rich emaciated man, who was of course Nosferatu.
around this time I woke up.
(thoughts: I've been thinking about taking a sudden vacation to Europe. Strange that this is where my subconscious fears took it).
Sunday night (Night before last) I had a better dream:
I was acting a part in a Shakespearean styled play. All dressed up in glimmering tin armor. I played the part of a knight who was being role played by an angry 16 year old nerd, for some slow paced D&D style sword&sorcery game. I ranted on endlessly about the frustrations of being stuck in this role, controlled by unseen forces which I couldn't believe were a benevolent god.
I know there was a lot to it. but all I could remember when I woke up was the ending. I was in a giant hall arguing with the king for the hearts and minds of the lords and nobles (and thus, the people). I had become a barbarian by ignoring all the rules and customs that were required of a shining knight. The king had once been a barbarian, but had killed his way to ruler. The king was played by a scruffy bearded Brendan Gleeson.
So I was giving a big monologue about how royalty and intellectuals were fools to ignore our base animal natures, and its effects on our logic and emotions. I walked through the crowd, and opened several large doors to what seemed giant fridges. Inside were the heads of various cursed races (elves, dwarves) whom I figured could be free if they'd just reject the laws that kept them bound.
After ranting all poetical: I turned to the king for his rebuttal.
He stood behind my wife, and pulled out a fat knife. Which is to say, it was shaped like a spade (as wide as it was long. a squat triangle). He stabbed her in the side, like jesus. As she crumpled, the lights when out.
The audience sat in stunned silence. Then the lights flashed on. Uplighting him, so that his shadow was thrown huge on the wall/corner behind him, he shook the dagger left and right - spraying ridiculous amounts of black blood. A screeching wail accompanied (like twisting metal). The lights went out again.
play over. some clapping. people got up and started leaving. the actors took a bow. I was sitting in the audience now, maybe 30 aisles back.
Then there was a Q&A. I remember being impressed than when some snotty bitch started complaining about the lack of female roles, the fat nerd next to her managed an intelligent insult to her short sighted self centered bullshittery.
(and that was that. I woke. it was about 6am, an hour before my alarm would go off. Couldn't get back to sleep. Decided the play should be called "Role: the play" and could be a one act.)