Monday, August 18, 2014


My Dream Diary – Week 9

A man walks into my apartment. He says he lives here. He's right. He's me. I wish he'd go away but deep down I know that without him I'd be nothing.

I am running a security firm. It's an ontological security firm. Instead of installing house alarms, I instill senses of identity. My phone keeps ringing but I don't dare answer it. It's furious clients and they are demanding their money back.

A woman I am in love with is watching television. I am on the television. I wave at her from the screen. She picks up a remote control and changes channel to watch Top Gear instead. I remember her saying how much she hates Top Gear.

I am high up a tree, hiding from a grizzly bear that stands at the bottom of the tree. The grizzly bear tells me to come down and stop being so ridiculous. It says that it has no intention of attacking me. 'I just want to talk', says the bear so I climb down from the tree. The bear waits until my trembling feet reach the ground before it attacks me. Then the bear stands over my corpse and laughs. 'Who the fuck ever heard of a talking grizzly bear?', it says and I'm left feeling that no one can be trusted.

I am a Middle Eastern refugee escaping a marauding army. My battered vehicle rumbles around an infinity of mountain corners. The skeletons of Bart and Lisa Simpson yell from the backseat: 'Are we dead yet? Are We Dead Yet? ARE WE DEAD YET?'. I tell them to be patient. Danny Elfman's frantic theme music fills the air but you can still hear the drones beneath it.

The entire human race undoes a series of clips that it discovers on its back and slips out of its skin like you would a wetsuit. The human race stacks its bones like tentpoles and flushes its muscles and internal organs down the toilet. Then, like a bad smell, the entire human race gradually fades away. Wild animals tentatively emerge from undergrowth. A fox turns to a badger and whispers 'I think they're gone'.

I visit my doctor. He smiles and says that my test results are 'out of sight' but then he frowns and warns me that out of sight is out of mind so I better watch out because I'm out of my mind.

Then I wake up. My bed is on fire. I go back to sleep.


Anonymous said...

I used to keep a dream diary. Then I couldn't remember were it went. Forty pages thick of dot matrix printer. I don't know were it is? The past probably. I bet some bugger has uploaded it to Youtube.

Fugger said...

I think it should be compulsory for everyone to log their dreams and then the logbooks should be handed over to the NSA going forward.