Dream Journal

by

They say that dreams are the gateway to the infinite, to the sublime, to our true cores. If so, then maybe the world is a little bit more strange than we think. So, record your dreams, as has been done below, and tell us what times you have seen gone by.

 

Nearly a week ago, I dreamt of goblins
In a limestone cave
Dripping with stalagmites
Surrounded by moth eaten furniture
Feasting on the innards of metal garbage cans
Discussing goblin politics

The night after that, I dreamt of cyborg-aliens
Called the Weatherpeople
Who pilfered eyes, fingers, toes and ears
To steal their victim’s identities
And a woman who had visions of their crimes
(she was a dreamer within a dream)
And confided in her psychiatrist
Only for him to reveal himself
As the leader of the Weatherpeople

The next day, I dreamt about a teenager named Mary Elizabeth
Who went to a party
Smoked a cigarette
Got into a stranger’s van
And was swallowed up by the night

That night, I dreamt of a pastry chef
Dressed in black
Who prepared desserts
In a tall glass box
Stationed in the middle of a shopping center food court
And turned all the mall rats
Into gluttonous, creampuff-craving zombies

The night before last, I dreamt about a desert town
Called Moon Valley
(because it was built inside of a crater)
And a pale boy who sold snow globes
In the town’s only gift shop
And after all the
Cave Dwellers, Space Invaders,
Lost Girls, Zombies,
And Snow Globes

I dreamt about drowning
In a sea of Purple Rain

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