Alberta writes:
My little white animal, inside its tent for travel, goes mad, slashes the tent with a flat metal tool
I scream and drop it, run
The animal is mad
It is small, fast and ferocious Continue reading
Rachel writes:
I’m in the bathroom of my grandmother’s house, trying to kill all the mice that have moved in there. It looks empty, but apparently you can’t put down a bowl without catching several mice, so I’m doing just that. I put down a bowl in the empty bathtub and suddenly it’s full of tiny mice scratching around and trying to get out. So, I pour them into a paper bag at my side, and keep scooping them out. Inspired by what was apparently an iron and wine song about killing mice in the bath tub (it started playing in my mind and I thought it’d be a great idea), I take the little mice out and throw them against the tiled wall. They leave red smears of blood where they hit. Continue reading
I have had very few dreams in the last fifteen years, at least that I remembered. . until last night when I was visited in a hospital room by The Edge and Adam Clayton. Bono ( A Dali-esque figure of today, perhaps) was no where to be seen. (Typical) The two of them were generally encouraging; joking in their Dublin anarchic humor. As usual , they spoke under the breath, but just to me. There was no one else in the room, As if they appeared out of a mist next to my bedside like video projections shown into a mirror so that their image just hovered in space, in smoke, in my hospital room. Then a shadow of a head passing by a window; this is very fucking scary when there is no one else in the room. End of dream.
Peter sends us the following two dreams:
1 – In this dream, the teenagers were all caught up in a fad they called “kaleing”. They would sit in couples, each with garlands of kale around their necks, and quietly, sweetly graze on each other.
2 – A dream of witches. Not the earth-loving neopagan kind, or the cartoony variety, but chilling supernatural beings. I was walking down a dark alleyway in Minneapolis, with only shafts of moonlight and occasional patches of incandescence cast down from the windows of the old brick and wood city buildings to either side. It was a shivery fall night, and the wind was pushing small objects around the alleyway.
Then, a surge in the wind — and the air felt as I have never felt it before. It was as if the rivulets of the gust threaded right through my body. Every hair stood erect, and a whispering right behind my ear seemed to accompany the whoosh of air. “wwhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiitttchhhhhh…” Continue reading
I dream of dada 