Tuesday, April 17, 2018


Here’s a dream from last night:

I’m a child in a gang of feral children. We’re running around inside an old Art Deco department store after hours. There’s a show going on in an attached theater; I think that’s where the adults are situated. With them preoccupied, we have the run of the place, but only so long as they aren’t aware. 

I find a Christmas display area where many children are playing and running. I’m one of the bigger kids. I pick up small kids to get a look at the decorations and toys. Soon, there’s a band of small kids following me to explore whatever I find. I take pictures with my phone. None of the kids will stay still for photos, but I don’t mind: I’m only interested in details of the decorations, particularly miniatures. It’s hard to get a photo. I’m very intent. 

Everything is sticky as if it’s covered in flowing foam or whipped cream. I have to wipe the goo from my hands and face, and remove it from my camera and objects. The kids with me are also covered in the foam. I find a tiny place, inside the bough of a tree, where a tiny house is flooded. I brush away the foam to take a photo inside its window. 

I herd my group to showers to clean up. We all remove our clothes to step into water. There are many showers in several connected areas with no doors. Near the showers are cots. As I shower, I look around for other big kids like me, while keeping track of the smaller kids in my group. I see there are other groups like ours, with a big kid or two shepherding. 

In the next shower, I see a tall girl with long limbs, her body shaped like Gumby’s. A couple of big boys are flirting with her. I wonder if they’re neglecting their groups and feel hypervigilant. The girl asks one of the boys to put his penis in her, “but only the Italian part,” she requests. “I want to see if I can tell the difference.” They try and fail. I’m amused by their clumsiness though aroused by the dumb idea of fucking for that reason.   

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