Wednesday, August 13, 2003

Morning Dream

I just woke up in front of my computer. What a weird dream! I remember my grandparent's house as a kid. Some of my cousins are there. I see my uncle Fred and aunt Connie. She hands me a big grocery bag and says here's dinner. We are in my grandparent's garage, the big door is open and I can see that it is raining. My cousin Bobby is sitting at the edge of the dry shelter created by the garage door but he's getting wet. The paper bag that I am holding is heavy and getting wet. It slips to the ground and food spills out, corn dogs, french fries, and more. My cousin Rusty helps me scoop up the food with a dustpan, the food a little dirty but edible. I take the bag into the back room. Here the dream shifts into radical weirdness. While still in a room that at first appears to be my grandmother's kitchen, I realize the context has changed. There are people here that I do not know. I am playing the role of a prisoner in an RPG. What I remember is being tied up, getting loose and being caught again. The doctor is coming to punish me. He wants to put me in a tooth vise, but I get down on the floor and grovel, asking him to tie up my hands again so he can trim my nails. He cuts my nails way low. A few are completely cut off. Then the game was over. No one was supposed to get hurt. I find the doctor in the livingroom and compliment him on his very sharp implements that were apparently manufactured in Norway. He and his dwarf partner were salesmen. They also wore NAZI uniforms.

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