I dream that I’m watching a Sailor Moon episode that turns into a horror show about a painting that is beautiful if you have a pure soul, and show inexplicable horrors if you are a sinner. A taxi driver goes back to work after seeing the painting, a tall monster in a trench and bowler hat sits in the back of his taxi. “I’m going to hell,” says the monster. “That’s fine,” says the man, “I’m already there.”
Then I dream about punching my brother in the face, and it was well deserved.
I dream about a movie I’m watching/living: there are two (three?) high school girls running away, they travel through America, when they miss a train they realize they can fly and follow the train tracks from above through the mountains, they see a castle on a hill that is now a hotel. The movie feels magical and lighthearted at this point. The girls can look into someone’s eyes and see/grant their most profound wish. One of them turns a black and red fish into a human.
Then things turn horror, as the girls realize they never left their school, they are in the basement strapped to hospital beds, being fed hallucinogenic drugs by an evil nun. One of them is hugging a stuffed black and red fish. Only an hour has passed.
(I wish I knew how it all ended but this us all I can remember.)
Early in the morning I dream that I’m reading a Mickey Mouse comic; Mickey and Goofy are fighting some pirates in the belly of a ship, they run circles around them so fast they make them faint. Now they only need to defeat Captain Hook, but he’s gone to the bathroom because he needs to pee. I’m confused, can’t he just pee overboard? He goes to the bathroom but can’t find relief, why, why, oh why?
I wake up because I really need to pee.
(There was also a dream about a place, an underground cave below the ocean you can reach swimming in a certain direction. In that cave live the souls of all dead humanity, I wish I could remember more about it.)
I dream that I’m watching a random Buffy episode. I’ve never watched one before and I’m a bit bored. Buffy is pregnant. There are two guys fighting, une cuts off the other’s arm. To reiterate, the other guy saws off his legs.
I dream that I find live flies and crickets in my food, and I can’t eat anymore.
Then I dream that I drop my notebook, the one where I wrote down EVERY note for EVERY class of the year, from the stairs at school. I look down and see small children forming a queue in the hall, because apparently we’re sharing with them now. Stupid pandemic.
Then I dream that I’m out in town with my mother when I see a murder of black birds, thousands of them, looking spectral and scary, like they’re not of this world. As I film it they pick up a bird much bigger than them and eat it alive.
I dream that my mother and I are taking part in a horror tour. It’s night when our bus arrives at a haunted old mansion, we get inside along with all the other guests, cheering and laughing.
The mansion is haunted alright, but I soon figure out the ghosts and other scary presences (mostly dead girls, pale, bleeding) cannot be touched and can’t harm us in any way. I feel relieved, amused, even. There’s something else about the house though, something odd: it seems to be able to read our minds. I can think about anything I want, anything at all, and the house makes it happen.
I want to buy a souvenir. I see a dish set hanging from the wall, beautiful golden and white plates. As soon as I think it the set flies into my arms and the money leaves my bank account, just like magic. I ask for the check and it’s projected directly into my brain. I say out loud I’d rather have a paper copy and a young maid brings it to me. She says,
Thank you, these numbers will help me win the lottery, back in 2005.
I go back to the bus and realize my mother is nowhere to be found. As I’m starting to worry she finally runs out from the main door, looking frantic, screaming, her face contorted with fear. A waiter is following her, his white shirt covered in yellow puke. I have a moment of terrifying realization: this cannot be my mother. She would never act like this. This is a ghost trying to escape, and my real mother is still trapped inside.
Everybody begs me to stop, but I’m already running back. The doors close behind me, the tour bus leaves, and with a shiver I realize I’m the one being trapped here. Just like the house wanted.
I wake up and fall back to sleep. Now I’m at home, waiting for the police to arrive. A man with round glasses has showed me the future, I know I’m wanted, I know the police will seize all my favorite pens (I hide them, just in case), and I know that my mother will be arrested as well.
I see a police car and a van arriving and parking outside. As I open the door I tell my parents to stay calm: surely it’s all a mistake, if we explain ourselves we can avoid any trouble. I open the door and dozens upon dozens of officers pour in. Most of them go directly to my bedroom (my poor pens!) but their chief stays to interrogate me. She’s a blonde woman, tall, extremely beautiful but there’s something cold in her eyes, something not human. I realize in a moment she’s one of the ghosts from the hunted house, and she wants to steal my body and give it to one of her ghosts friends.
Years later I get out of prison. The beautiful blonde chief is waiting for me and we kiss passionately. Am I still me? Am I a ghost? I cannot tell. Flash forward a few more years, I’m on boat on a stormy ocean. The boat sinks and I wash ashore on a beautiful island. I lost my memory.
My alarm rings.
I dream that it’s Christmas and I want to buy myself a Barbie. I go to the supermarket where a salesgirl tries to convince me to buy a printer instead. She says,
In these uncertain times we need more words!
I think I can write I better catchphrase than that.
Then I dream that my dad is watching a horror movie, the killer’s victims are turned into squirrels and pigs. I go to bed and the next morning he’s still there, watching. He looks terrified.
(I was feeling a bit sick yesterday.)
I dream over and over again that I’m telling Boss Lady over the phone that I can’t possibly go to work in the morning, I could be contagious, I have an upset stomach, and hear how sore my throat is! (I’m faking it).
(I suck it up and go to work in the morning.)
I dream that I’m sitting in my old classroom next to M. the runner. As usual I don’t have any notebooks or pens with me. I confess to M. that I haven’t been able to follow a math lesson in years, I cannot understand it and I’ve stopped trying.
A new teacher shows up: she has red hair and a red beard, she’s wearing glasses, a white blouse with colorful umbrella prints and a rainbow skirt. On her arm, a rainbow umbrella. I observe every detail so later I can describe her to my penpal.
Her name is Fruddi and she’s our new sci-fi teacher. There’s something unsettling about her.
She writes a poem on the blackboard in her very neat handwriting. I’m sitting front row resting my chin on my hands, looking bored. She demands why I’m not copying the poem down, I say what’s the point? I’ll google it at home. She rants and rave about today’s lazy youth, I tell her, deadpan,
I am smart and I am confident and you won’t judge me.
She looks at me pensively. She knew a boy once, she says, who was so lazy. He was so lazy he never found a job and stayed home with his momma. This makes me angry, I walk straight to her face and hiss,
Or maybe he was severely depressed.
Fruddi looks dumbstruck. Come with me, she says. She leads me to the school graveyard, old tombstones and overgrown greenery. It looks so pretty I wish I had a camera with me.
Fruddi leads me to her family chapel, where a mummy lays on the stone. This is my boy, she says, taking the body in her arms. I’m so scared and she’s distracted, so I run back to the classroom, but the other kids have left.
I track them to the gym. The boys are playing soccer with famous footballer Christian Vieri. The girls are sitting in a low pool, looking adorable in matching swimsuits and caps. I run to them and relay my scary mummy story. They all console me.
DECADE DREAM JOURNAL 