I dream that I’m walking downtown holding hands with a girl, she’s tall and her hair is dark. I’m trying to flirt. She says if we ever dated she’d be worried about my mental health. Still she peppers my face and shoulders with little kisses, end eventually gives me a long kiss on the lips.
Then I dream it’s town festival night, I notice in the crowd a group of men wearing Nazi uniforms. Assholes! I yell in their general direction and keep walking confidently, thinking they won’t be able to locate me in the crowd. They find me though, they start following me and taunting me. One squeezes my arm and says I have no muscle. One throws me to the ground. The police arrives and they all run away because they’re cowards.
I dream that I’m walking home from the beach. I stop to take a picture of the mountains on the opposite side, the sun lighting them nicely, when an explosion covers the entire frame: they’re filming a movie and the director tells me to beat it, he’s very rude and unprofessional. Not knowing what to do, I go back to the beach. The sun is setting and I try to take another photo, once again a black cloud covers everything. This time it’s a baby twister running towards me as I’m just about to cross a wooden bridge. I do so gingerly.
I finally get home, where I find out my brother has bought himself a new camera. I’m really upset because every time I want something he buys it instead. I jump on him and start punching his face. Everybody is upset, Gran is crying. I say I don’t care because he hasn’t talked to me in 6 years. He’s bleeding and refusing to look at me.
I dream that I’m with a friend trying on clothes in a store. A man with a gun comes in, starts shooting. My friend shoves me inside a dressing rooms, tells me to hide. She is shot and killed, the right side of her face is caked in blood. I cower on the dressing room floor, I know the man is looking for me, but somehow he doesn’t spot me.
I dream that I have the power to make trees and plants grow. Then I dream that I can’t figure out if it’s 2020 or 2021, are my calendars new or old? This year seems quite tragic so maybe it is 2020 after all. My friends are equally confused, I tell them we should maybe check the date on our phones, that very idea blows their minds.
Now I’m going with my mom to a doctor appointment, I realize I’m wearing my pajamas and that can mean only one thing: I must be dreaming, I would never go out in pajamas IRL. SinceI now know I’m dreaming, I’m free to go have sex with people. I take off a young woman’s pants, she’s stiff and obedient like a doll.
I end up in a store where I try some clothes on, they’re too small. The owner has a beard and speaks English with a Swedish accent. We agree on how much we hate teenagers. A movie is being projected in the store, it’s about Marie Antoniette, there are orgies and necrophilia and more orgies and vomiting, all very detailed and seen from below. A decapitated head falls down, its cheek squishes against the camera glass. All the while the audience is making disgusted little sounds.
I dream about a young man, a butler maybe, who has just murdered the old lord he works for. He leaves the manor with no rush, it’s a Saturday and he knows the gardener won’t be back to discover the body until Monday. He goes home and carefully plans his escape along with his girlfriend. On Monday morning, they drive away in the fog. A young detective arrives too late and find their house empty. He wears thick glasses and his face is calm, emotionless.
Years pass. The murdered and his girl are now married, they’re currently on a tour bus. Around them, people are singing church songs and clapping to the music. A car flanks the bus, it’s the detective, now with a balding head and a mustache. Police swarm the bus, they arrest the murderer, drag him away. As the other passengers protest, the detective looks up at them from the car window, and very calmly states,
Don’t worry about it. He shot a man in the head.
Nobody seems to notice the wife, nobody arrests her. She goes on to live her life and raise her kids, scot-free.
I dream that Trump is doing an election rally and attendance is mandatory.It’s night and he’s a giant –as tall as a five-story building– I’m angry and disgusted and so scared. He talks and talks and I do something very brave: I grab one of his toes. He looks down with his giant, orange, awful face.
Don’t you agree with me?
he asks.
No, I don’t. Because you’re a cheating fucking LIAR!
The crowd cheers. MAGAs body slams me like it’s the NFL, my dad has to shove them off.
The day after a war is declared. We watch on TV as our soldiers (wearing Victorian uniforms complete with lace and capes) storm into an enemy’s church and slice up their victims with shiny sabers.
Our town is deserted, everybody is hiding at home.
Dad and I go for a walk and are stopped by two guards in fascist regalia, one young and one old. The young one orders me to smash a rock into my dad’s skull, just for funsies. I need to be smart. I turn to the old man, who looks like he’s caught into something bigger than him, and say,
Can I offer you tea instead?
Relieved, the old man accepts. The tea shop is empty though, the owners have left in a hurry. We go looking for them in the building and the young man chases us up the stairs, angry and yelling, until he trips and fall. I can hear him howling in pain below us. We find the tea shop owners hiding in the attic, they ask us how bad it is outside. It’s very bad, I tell them.
I go back home and Trump’s about to come home too, he’s my stepdad now. I’m appalled at my mom’s poor judgement. I shove food in my mouth and go hide in my room. I’m still terrified.
I dream that my sister is back home, again. With a wicked smile, she hints that she’s reading this blog, this carefully anonymous dream journal of mine. I’m so, so angry and upset. I shove her to the ground and choke her with all my might. It takes a moment, but my parents realize she can’t breathe and separate us. Not done, I run to the bathroom, grab a pair of scissors and cut all her long, auburn hair. I know this is the end, our relationship will never recover from this.
I dream that I’m going shopping, but first I need to pee. The bathrooms are located underground, I take an escalator and find myself in a long queue of girls. Maybe I can convince them to let me go first? I say out loud,
I REALLY FUCKING NEED TO PEE!
Another girl has said the exact same thing at the exact same time. We look at each other. Maybe we can share the toilet? One cheek each?
It’s our turn. The bathroom we step in is dark, gritty and enormous, with impossibly high ceilings, almost as if it was built from an underground cave. There are at least two toilets in the vast space, sitting high above the ground. A lot of people are watching, but I can’t afford to care. I need to go. I climb to the toilet and sit and… no pee comes out. How is it possible?
I have to wake up and run to the toilet for real.
I’m in a car with my whole family. My dad is driving, but he’s not paying the road any attention. Instead he’s reading something. I realize with horror it’s one of my old journals! Actually, all of my journals are here.
Furious at this invasion of my privacy, I grab them and get off the car. I end up in an old building, it’s dark and my old elementary teacher is there, wearing a black veil and smiling a wicked smile. She’s as ghastly as I remembered, I hate her so much I start to choke her. She seems to enjoy it. I have sex with her, it seems like the logic thing to do.
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’m in my bed, thinking about skipping school today, that’s gonna be fine. Then I remember that I’m an adult with a job. I slowly get up and I still don’t want to go. It’s raining outside.
My aunt, the racist lawyer, and her sister show up. I don’t want to see them, I try to jump off the balcony but that doesn’t work. I hide under my mother’s bed instead. My aunt bends down and finds me. I stab her, and stab and stab and stab. She is still alive, still smiling at me.
DECADE DREAM JOURNAL 