It’s Supposed To Be West, But After All We Are All East Of Something

I dream that I travel back to 1891 and I should never do that, I should always go forward, because now I have a small sister, just a child with big, brown, sad eyes, and our father has given her up in marriage. She’s so small, but there’s nothing I can do to help.


I dream that I’m travelling on a bus with a group of friends. We reach the East Coast and it’s my home town, somehow? A boy with a guitar joins us after I watch his Youtube videos. We dig a long tunnel to the nearest Gucci store, stop at an underground dance party that looks out of West Side Story. We are hideous dancer, we look for a more amateurish party. We noticed another room in the tunnel with beautiful chandelier lights shining in the dark, we stop there but it’s not a dance floor, it’s a church and there are coffins on the benches.

Two Quick Ones

That’s so strange how I’ve been dreaming about my old neighbor S., considering I haven’t seen the guy in years. This time he’s a teen and I steal his diary, write funny jokes on it. He’s so mad I run to the basement. I go down flights after flights of stairs, then crawl into a tunnel that gets smaller and smaller.

Another dream: I’m hearing a pitch about a new Star Wars movie, the main character is Palpatine. He towers menacingly over a young kid (Ben?) He kills and scalps a woman. He goes back home where his clone is sitting on the couch playing fantasy football. He kills the clone.