Author Topic: Dream Thread  (Read 3694 times)

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dragonfly

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« on: January 28, 2006, 09:32:00 AM »
« Last Edit: December 31, 1969, 07:00:00 PM by Guest »

Offline starry-eyed pirate

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« Reply #1 on: January 28, 2006, 01:46:00 PM »
Du-ude... :smile:

sweet dreams my friend.
« Last Edit: December 31, 1969, 07:00:00 PM by Guest »
If you would have justice in this world, then begin to see that a human being is not a means to some end.  People are not commodities.  When human beings are just to one another government becomes obsolete and real freedom is born; SPIRITUAL ANARCHY.

Offline Scarred

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« Reply #2 on: January 28, 2006, 08:44:00 PM »
[ This Message was edited by: Scarred on 2006-01-29 18:19 ]
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Offline starry-eyed pirate

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« Reply #3 on: February 09, 2006, 11:27:00 AM »
...yeah, what about nightmares...

Last night I dreampt a nightmare...that I was back in $tr8...I was sittin' in group...I was playin' it cool again...waitin' for my oportunity to bolt...my mind was full of all kinds of suspicions as to who had set me up, who was it that had done this to me again ??  My heart was full of anger and pain again.  Mike Kirsch was leadin' the rap.  I wasn't really payin' attention to what anyone was talkin' about.  I was only thinkin' of my situation and how I could escape. It was the "how are you makin' changes" part of the rap.  I was sitting expressionless...looking straight ahead not payin' attention to who was talkin'...

Now I remember even more...earlier in the dream my brother had copped out.(he was never actually in group, but he was in siblings).  I helped him get a head start, and then stayed behind to distract attention from his havin' split.  Maybe that's why I was put back into group.  Anyway here comes Mike Kirsch.  I knew he would call on me and I knew I didn't even know the rap topic.  I knew there would be some sort of a confrontation... As I'm sittin' on front row and he walks by he says to me "I understand there was a breakdown in communications between you and your brother"(Fuck you mutherfucker!), implying that my bro had betrayed me by leavin  without me on purpose or something, which wasn't true.  I asked Mike in a sarcastic tone:   "Oh, and how do you know that...because you are so adept at analyzing relationships that you know everything ??  You know nothing!"  

...next thing I knew I was standing in an open doorway doin' chin-ups from a bar.  I just stared out at staff silent and expressionless, the way a prisoner does, full of calculated rage as I pulled myself up and down, counting my chin-ups.  My form was perfect, my discipline strong, I felt militant.  Staff was nervously watching me. Then I began to realize that I was over 18 and that they couldn't hold me...and yet there I was...I was just realizing I could put in a withdraw and split but then I wondered if I was court ordered or if they had some trick to keep me there...

I woke up angry and disturbed...
« Last Edit: December 31, 1969, 07:00:00 PM by Guest »
If you would have justice in this world, then begin to see that a human being is not a means to some end.  People are not commodities.  When human beings are just to one another government becomes obsolete and real freedom is born; SPIRITUAL ANARCHY.

dragonfly

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« Reply #4 on: February 09, 2006, 01:47:00 PM »
« Last Edit: December 31, 1969, 07:00:00 PM by Guest »

Offline starry-eyed pirate

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« Reply #5 on: February 17, 2006, 01:02:00 PM »
Last night I dreampt I was travellin' east through the central Pennsylvania Mountains on the rough PA turnpike in my ol '77 Datsun wagon with my ol' host-bro, jkendu. He was drivin, just like when we copped out together.  I told him we needed fuel and our tires needed air.  He didn't want to pull off, just wanted to keep movin' on, but I insisted that we fuel up, etc.  At the last second he swerved across several lanes onto the exit ramp, re-enacting the manouever he made when we had originally copped out together in that stolen work truck, and ditched the employee from "Green Thumb" who had been followin' us down the interstate in his jeep.  

We pulled into the gas station.  I recognized the attendant.  It was a 5th phaser I used to know.  This cat, while he was on 5th phase had delivered information to me after I was returned to the program from my 2nd cop-out. His name was Jon B#rt&n.  While I was sitting in a plastic chair waiting to be assigned to some host home just as the dismissal line was forming, he had approached me and very quickly told me that he had heard a long distance dedication go out to on a nat'l radio broadcast from a girl I had spent Thanksgivivng with while I was copped out!  I can't remember the song now. I was amazed that he cared enough to risk tellin' me that, and of course I never mentioned it to anyone(thanx Jon).  He copped out himself a little while later.  Anyway, there he was in my dream.  I gave him a look of recognition and he recognized me too.  He didn't want to talk though.  Didn't want nothin' to do with anyone who reminded him of $tr8.  I tol' 'im I respected that.  He tol' me the station was closed so I wished him a good life and asked how far to the next gas station and he tol' me "bout a mile".

jkendu and I got back in the datsun and went off down the road, no longer on the turnpike though, we were now drivin' through some ol' mill town,like maybe Allentown, lookin' for gas.  I looked up an' saw 3 lanes of heavy traffic movin' toward us as we moved toward them.  I had to tell jkendu to vear right or there was gonna be a head-on wreck!  We barely avoided the accident. Slowly the main road narrowed and became a small tight alleyway in disrepair, surrounded on both sides by tall brick buildings which had obviously been built long ago.  Piles of bricks and rubble blocked the alley ahead.  I turned around to look back and saw that all that heavy traffic had turned around and was now followin' us down into the dead end alley.  It looked like we were gonna be trapped, but somehow we found a way through the piles of bricks and rubble and drove up and over and made our way back out onto the main street again and drove away...


.
« Last Edit: December 31, 1969, 07:00:00 PM by Guest »
If you would have justice in this world, then begin to see that a human being is not a means to some end.  People are not commodities.  When human beings are just to one another government becomes obsolete and real freedom is born; SPIRITUAL ANARCHY.

Offline Anonymous

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« Reply #6 on: February 17, 2006, 01:44:00 PM »
pirate who was the hopttest girl in the place?
« Last Edit: December 31, 1969, 07:00:00 PM by Guest »

Offline Anonymous

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« Reply #7 on: March 23, 2006, 07:06:00 PM »
well a few nights ago I dreamed that in my basement there was a crack in the wall, and some dirt had washed out from behind the cinder blocks, as I looked the crack opened and I could see a corpse. As I looked the crack opened the full length of her body.

 I was totally horrified and the hair was standing up on my neck. There was dried flesh on her bones and her eyeballs had dried into little wafers of flesh in the sockets. I could see she had been buried in a red dress. She lifted herself out of the hole in the wall and I stepped back, she kept coming toward me and I backed out of the basement and backed up the stairs. As she climbed the stairs I could see that her flesh was restoring itself her skin was growing, her dress was becoming bright red and finally her face was visible and beautiful.

At the top of the stairs I was no longer afraid of her and I asked her name, she said her name was Ortina Ridicula. I invited her to come sit with me on the couch. She was very shy and ashamed of being dead and afraid that it seemed strange that she had come back to life. As we walked to the couch, I asked her how old she was, she said she was born in 1916, and had died in 1950, the year my house had been built. Sitting on the couch she rested her bare leg on my ?lap? and I became very excited. Just at that moment my housemate came home and went into the kitchen. I followed her and whispered that Ortina was dead.

Next we were all waking up from a nap, I went downstairs and found Ortina sleeping on the rubble that had spilled out from the masonry wall. I told her she did not have to sleep there, she could sleep in a bed. I looked over to my bedroom and someone (myself in another body in the past) was working at a computer, he asked if we were ready for the ceremony. I suddenly remembered that there were preparations upstairs for some sort of Zen cult ceremony. Ortina and I went and sat on the floor with everyone else. The ceremony began with two cult priests, a man and a woman, wearing white robes, blowing dust out of a coconut shell. But the dust turned out to be pot smoke. They were burning big buds and blowing thick smoke out into the room all the while doing a goofy dance and speaking gibberish.

So all you Jungians what?s all this about?  This dream really made an impression on me, I even did a google search for Ortina  Ridicula, there was one link but it was in Spanish and was going take 15 minutes to download.
« Last Edit: December 31, 1969, 07:00:00 PM by Guest »

dragonfly

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« Reply #8 on: March 23, 2006, 07:10:00 PM »
« Last Edit: December 31, 1969, 07:00:00 PM by Guest »

Offline Antigen

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« Reply #9 on: March 23, 2006, 07:52:00 PM »
Damn, I don't know. Next time you see Ortina you'll have to ask her. At the very least, something coming to life, fears being dispelled.. Good dream?

All who doubted or denied would be lost. To live a moral and honest life -- to keep your contracts, to take care of wife and child -- to make a happy home -- to be a good citizen, a patriot, a just and thoughtful man, was simply a respectable way of going to hell.
--

« Last Edit: December 31, 1969, 07:00:00 PM by Guest »
"Don\'t let the past remind us of what we are not now."
~ Crosby Stills Nash & Young, Sweet Judy Blue Eyes

Offline Antigen

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« Reply #10 on: March 23, 2006, 08:01:00 PM »
Well now!

Hands that help are far better then lips that pray.
--Robert G. Ingersoll, American politician and lecturer

« Last Edit: December 31, 1969, 07:00:00 PM by Guest »
"Don\'t let the past remind us of what we are not now."
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Offline Fire Swamp

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« Reply #11 on: March 23, 2006, 08:09:00 PM »
Quote
Ortina Ridicula

She was my dearest love, once upon a time...
« Last Edit: December 31, 1969, 07:00:00 PM by Guest »

Offline Anonymous

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« Reply #12 on: March 24, 2006, 03:09:00 AM »
Quote
On 2006-03-23 16:10:00, dragonfly wrote:

"
Quote

On 2006-03-23 16:06:00, Anonymous wrote:


"well a few nights ago I dreamed that in my basement there was a crack in the wall, and some dirt had washed out from behind the cinder blocks, as I looked the crack opened and I could see a corpse. As I looked the crack opened the full length of her body.





 I was totally horrified and the hair was standing up on my neck. There was dried flesh on her bones and her eyeballs had dried into little wafers of flesh in the sockets. I could see she had been buried in a red dress. She lifted herself out of the hole in the wall and I stepped back, she kept coming toward me and I backed out of the basement and backed up the stairs. As she climbed the stairs I could see that her flesh was restoring itself her skin was growing, her dress was becoming bright red and finally her face was visible and beautiful.





At the top of the stairs I was no longer afraid of her and I asked her name, she said her name was Ortina Ridicula. I invited her to come sit with me on the couch. She was very shy and ashamed of being dead and afraid that it seemed strange that she had come back to life. As we walked to the couch, I asked her how old she was, she said she was born in 1916, and had died in 1950, the year my house had been built. Sitting on the couch she rested her bare leg on my ?lap? and I became very excited. Just at that moment my housemate came home and went into the kitchen. I followed her and whispered that Ortina was dead.





Next we were all waking up from a nap, I went downstairs and found Ortina sleeping on the rubble that had spilled out from the masonry wall. I told her she did not have to sleep there, she could sleep in a bed. I looked over to my bedroom and someone (myself in another body in the past) was working at a computer, he asked if we were ready for the ceremony. I suddenly remembered that there were preparations upstairs for some sort of Zen cult ceremony. Ortina and I went and sat on the floor with everyone else. The ceremony began with two cult priests, a man and a woman, wearing white robes, blowing dust out of a coconut shell. But the dust turned out to be pot smoke. They were burning big buds and blowing thick smoke out into the room all the while doing a goofy dance and speaking gibberish.





So all you Jungians what?s all this about?  This dream really made an impression on me, I even did a google search for Ortina  Ridicula, there was one link but it was in Spanish and was going take 15 minutes to download.        


"




well, that was me, I was hoping to explain a poem I wrote on the Haiku thread and was called a sick bastard for some reason."


Sick bastard?  Are you not a girl?  I thought Dragonfly was a girl name.
« Last Edit: December 31, 1969, 07:00:00 PM by Guest »

Offline Anonymous

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« Reply #13 on: March 24, 2006, 02:43:00 PM »
Last night I had a dream about a bunch of Straight survivors kidnapping Miller and Ruth Newton and chaining them to blue chairs in a basement. They were shot up with heroin every day until they became addicted, were made to sit in their shit, and were fed dog food that the Survivors had pissed or shit in. Miller was forced to listen to Death Metal 24/7 and had his eyes held open by those things they used in Clockwork Orange so he couldn't avert his gaze when Ruthie was gangraped by a bunch of syphalitic crackheads. Afterward, Ruthie was confronted for being a slut and enjoying it. Then, in my dream, Miller was made to go through withdrawal cold turkey and was repeatedly kicked in the balls and sodomized with a cattle prod. The Survivors showed him news footage of the car wreck that killed his son Marc and daughter Johanna in a fiery crash. Miller was then force fed his own shit, and was then taken to a closet where he had his mouth propped open and placed in front of a glory hole at a gay bar. He was then given a jalepeno juice enema, and taken back to the basement, where he sat in his own shit, chained to a blue chair for months. Eventually, he died of AIDS that he got from either the glory hole or a dirty needle that was used to shoot him up with heroin. Ruthie was given 15,000 micrograms of LSD and turned loose in Ybor City, naked, after being shot up with cocaine. She wandered out into the street and was hit and killed by a garbage truck. Then an angel of God came down to throw the souls of the two shitbags to Hell, after he shook the hands of each of the Straight Survivors who participated, saying "the Man upstairs sends His regards on a job well done." What a beautiful dream!


IDNB
« Last Edit: December 31, 1969, 07:00:00 PM by Guest »

Offline Anonymous

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« Reply #14 on: March 24, 2006, 03:55:00 PM »
Quote
On 2006-03-24 00:09:00, Anonymous wrote:

"
Quote

On 2006-03-23 16:10:00, dragonfly wrote:


"
Quote


On 2006-03-23 16:06:00, Anonymous wrote:



"well a few nights ago I dreamed that in my basement there was a crack in the wall, and some dirt had washed out from behind the cinder blocks, as I looked the crack opened and I could see a corpse. As I looked the crack opened the full length of her body.







 I was totally horrified and the hair was standing up on my neck. There was dried flesh on her bones and her eyeballs had dried into little wafers of flesh in the sockets. I could see she had been buried in a red dress. She lifted herself out of the hole in the wall and I stepped back, she kept coming toward me and I backed out of the basement and backed up the stairs. As she climbed the stairs I could see that her flesh was restoring itself her skin was growing, her dress was becoming bright red and finally her face was visible and beautiful.







At the top of the stairs I was no longer afraid of her and I asked her name, she said her name was Ortina Ridicula. I invited her to come sit with me on the couch. She was very shy and ashamed of being dead and afraid that it seemed strange that she had come back to life. As we walked to the couch, I asked her how old she was, she said she was born in 1916, and had died in 1950, the year my house had been built. Sitting on the couch she rested her bare leg on my ?lap? and I became very excited. Just at that moment my housemate came home and went into the kitchen. I followed her and whispered that Ortina was dead.







Next we were all waking up from a nap, I went downstairs and found Ortina sleeping on the rubble that had spilled out from the masonry wall. I told her she did not have to sleep there, she could sleep in a bed. I looked over to my bedroom and someone (myself in another body in the past) was working at a computer, he asked if we were ready for the ceremony. I suddenly remembered that there were preparations upstairs for some sort of Zen cult ceremony. Ortina and I went and sat on the floor with everyone else. The ceremony began with two cult priests, a man and a woman, wearing white robes, blowing dust out of a coconut shell. But the dust turned out to be pot smoke. They were burning big buds and blowing thick smoke out into the room all the while doing a goofy dance and speaking gibberish.







So all you Jungians what?s all this about?  This dream really made an impression on me, I even did a google search for Ortina  Ridicula, there was one link but it was in Spanish and was going take 15 minutes to download.        



"







well, that was me, I was hoping to explain a poem I wrote on the Haiku thread and was called a sick bastard for some reason."




Sick bastard?  Are you not a girl?  I thought Dragonfly was a girl name."




Helloooo... have you just started reading some of the posts written by Dragonfly? It's pretty obvious he's not a chick, so start paying attention!!
« Last Edit: December 31, 1969, 07:00:00 PM by Guest »