I went over to the Beef & lemons house and we all listended to the new album which should be out in late June/early July. They bitched at me for not having anything done as far as web design goes, and then plied tony and me with corn on the cob, steak, potatoes, and beer.
And I smoked for the first time in probably 7 months.
And I got high. One hit.
And I had some weird thoughts, and some thoughts that I was glad I didn't feel like my words were making any sense of the thoughts in my head, because if they had, I probably would have stoned dialed people. Person, really.
And I went to bed, really early at like 11pm, and the dreams...
Jesus they were weird.
Dream One (about 12:37am):
I had this dream about KK, the nice-but-jealous-and-insecure-girl I met in Israel and dated for a year and a half. I met her at this party, and we were both kind of drunk, and after she was angry and cold to me for a while, we both started flirting, and ended up alone in a bedroom. Now this was the kind of party from BBC shows, I was wearing a dashing suit, and KK was in some frilly formal dress and we were in some country mansion with a ballroom and a thousand bedrooms. So we started kissing, but soon, as her long gloves came off, and her skirt came up a bit, I discovered bruises all over her covered areas. I asked about them and she just kissed me, but I asked again, and she said they were from her ex, but she didn't want to talk about it, and I said, these look very recent, and she said she had just left him two days before.
I sat up, and said I couldn't do this, that if she wanted to talk about the ex, if she wanted to do something about him, if she wanted to tell someone I would help her. She said all she really wanted to do was kiss me, but by then, reality had set in, and this was no longer a light-hearted drunken hook-up with an ex, this was real, this was abuse, and this was serious. So we stopped, rather, I stopped, she turned down all my offers to talk, said goodbye politely and went back out into the huge house, into the crowded party, and I sat there, alone on the bed.
Dream Two (about 3:45am)
And there was the dream where I was in Pasadena, getting ice cream, marvelling at the diagonal crosswalks, and you were there with me, and we walked around old town all night, till our feet got tired, going into penny lane, into Rizzoli's, where I bought a book on kandinsky that I already own, and you bought the companion book on Klee, and we talked about the Heroic Roses and how when I came to paris two times ago, the floor of the Pompidou with Klee's work on it was closed, and then suddenly we were standing outside the Pompidou watching the clock that used to count down to the millenium, which was now counting forward at an alarming rate, a rate so alarming that just looking at it made me think all of eternity was going by in mere seconds and that if we didn't get out of here soon and stop looking at this clock, the world would end. So we ran, we ran past Piccasso's house and into the alleys, and then we were in the maze-like chora of some greek island, all twists and turns so as to confuse pirates attacking the city. But we didn't have any time there, because you had to take the next ferry back, back to Pasadena, I guess, so I sat there and waved goodbye to you from the dock until your ship was a tiny speck on the horizon.
Now seriously, what the fuck?
No more smoking for me, my dreams are weird enough as it is.