I had a dream last night, despite the fact I felt throughout the whole sleep to have not slept very well and deeply. It was an interesting dream, most of the characters that showed up had some sort of change in them throughout the dream, that they did not finish off as they started out in a intrinsic sort of way. Also, many of the characters seemed to me to have somehow been architects in the past. Somewhat of an odd juxtaposition of concepts here between their changing and dynamic identities and the whole architect thing, which focuses on making static monuments that withstand the test of time, but perhaps I’m just being an analytical dick here and looking too deep at this shit.
First there was a lady in a denim dress, sitting on a metal bench with a back located in an open air sitting area that was supposed to be concrete-floored, but was overgrown with green grasses, just all hell of wild looking. She had some rather heavy makeup on, I think. My mind flashed to a magazine article on the lady, detailing that she was an architect of some renown, having designed the big Doe Library in UC Berkeley among other things. She was also an obese lesbian, and got chased out of her home country of Britain for that because apparently they were not too tolerant of these things in my dream. She actually wasn’t very obese when I saw her in the dream though, perhaps only slightly overweight, and her image would only get less portly as the dream went on.
Next, my mind switched to an article on her assistant, a man afflicted by dwarfism. The article had a pretty big picture of him taking up about half of the right page in the top right corner. He actually looked a lot like Rusty Goffe (in the dream, I was like “that dude is just hell of familiar for some reason”) in a brown trench coat (that fit him of course, the coat was not dragging on the floor). He was balding as he is in the picture, except he had some wisps of grey frizzy-frazzy hair that stuck up vertically at the sides. The article noted that he spoke the “Dunn language” and that was why he was valuable to the architect lady, that when he was asked to speak for her it was often to argue for her in this language. Odd thing, in the dream I thought the Dunn language was somehow related to Irish and Welsh and all those crazy Gaelic languages, but I didn’t think it existed in the real world. Apparently though, the Dunn language exists as some sort of East Coast hip hop slang. Weird stuff what comes up in a dream that correlates to the real. When I was done reading through his article, his picture had changed though, his hair did not have the wisps sticking up anymore, instead he had long, smooth, grey hair that somehow stood up and outwards. The hair stopped a bit lower at mid-ear and made his head look like a huge up arrow. The middle of his head was still bald though. Ultimately though, the assistant does not play a part in the rest of the dream, he just shows up in the amusing aside.
My mind returned to the sitting area. Next to the sitting area was a crevasse about one and a half humans tall with a river at the bottom of it (ie not a very dreadful fall), and other other side of the river was a man with grey hair and glasses. He is probably the most nondescript character in the dream; I got the feeling from him though that he was also an architect for some reason. He is also the only static character in the dream of any major role. There was also a treant near the man. The treant starts out as a female, but throughout the dream, changes into a male. The treant had a variety of powers, like disappearing into the ground to reappear in another position, and being able to phase into trees and come out of another. If the treant possessed another tree, that tree could move around its various features, though it could not unroot itself and move around. Also, something about the treant just said to me that it, too, was an architect. Something about architects this dream, eh?
Somehow, and for some reason, the man had pissed off the treant, and the treant was now bothering the man. The man was trying to get away, but the treant followed him, one slow, creaking step at a time. He was faster though, and got to the river first, which he crossed with magical means. He was on the other side, sure that he had gotten away from the treant when he heard a creaking noise behind him, and he was stunned that somehow the treant had closed the distance and crossed the river faster than him (obviously, through the phasing through the ground thing). He walked into the sitting area, and then past it into the woods beyond, which was a stupid idea, but I guess he did not know of the treant’s powers. The treant was phasing from tree to tree with varying amounts of creaking and basically getting all up in the man’s business. She would possess one tree that looked like it had a face on the trunk, look like she was trying hold back her laughter, then possess another tree behind the man that had a rather ugly looking “face” and laugh while the man investigated the other tree. Finally, the man got so pissed off that he pulled an axe out of nowhere and started to try and cut down one of the trees. The treant was really pissed off that the man would try to despoil nature and hurt a tree and such that she somehow was able to take the axe from the man and chop into his leg. He fainted from this or something, as he fell over and was out of commission for a while. Meanwhile, the lady architect had caught up to them, and saw this happening, and pulled out her wand and started firing spells at the treant, who was now fleeing.
After a short muddled portion of the dream, the man had recovered from his wounds and had joined up with the lady architect, who had just disarmed the treant of her wand with a spell. The wand was appropriately sized for a treant, being a huge, light brown tree branch, and it gave the treant her powers, and without it, the treant was trapped because her gait was too slow. Here is where I feel the treant is no longer a female, but a male. Both the man and lady architect took out their wands while the treant was backing away, and then just started walking forward while blasting spells into the treant until it fell over dead. It is pretty much how I imagine a gangland execution sort of killing to be, the victim all backed up into a dead end alley while the gangsters shoot him up with bullets, all with their gangster grip, holding the gun sideways, except done with wands discharging painful magic energies. Pretty much that killing was just hell of cold.
So, in the real world, school has started up, yet again. I’ve compressed my schedule into three days of the entire week, so I get Mondays and Fridays off. This is the good news. The bad news is that my days are long, and have long periods in which I am stuck on campus with no class. I need to get my lunch plans in order, or learn about hunger firsthand and what it means to me. It is also quite annoying to get home at 7 at night with a greater frequency than just during midterms and such.
I got complimented on my hair. It was pretty random; I don’t think any stranger has ever done that before. I was getting a sandwich for lunch when the cashier complimented me on my hair and asked me how long it took me to grow it out. The cashier also happened to be a male. I am really unsure of how to take it. Oh world, you confusing ass bitch. I also confused a dude in the bathroom in the same week. I was washing my hands when I saw him open the door to the bathroom in the mirror. He actually had to duck out for a second to check the signage before entering the bathroom. It has been quite a while since I’ve gotten such a…large response; for that matter, receiving any sort of small confusion.
There hasn’t been much more to report of school and life and the such, I don’t think. Now onto work that I have procrastinated so hard on, even on the first week of school. *sigh*
Listening to: Daisuke Kawai – West 132st. I don’t know whether to interpret that as West 132 St. or as a failed ordinal “132st.”
paying attention does you good
