Written on 07 April 2020, Tuesday:
There were some earlier dreams I can no longer remember this morning except for one image, my feet: I’m looking down at my feet confounded because it looked like I had two right foots, but then wondering if maybe, after a second look, my pinky tow on my left foot is just swollen so it looks like the big toe of my right foot. I had been walking barefoot, also bouldering, on the beach in the ‘real’ outside world.
Thenn the next scene is a bit more unified. I’m in a house or a flat and I look at my new room; it’s simple but I’m content, satisfied with it. Then I’m in another room, a more sophisticated one–mine was like black-and-white, but this new one was in elegant hues with mahogany arch windows and burgundy-wine colored walls, high ceilings, and a large bed below the arch window that seems to look out to some cosmopolis. The bed has my new roommate on it, and it looked like my new roommate is Alison Brie. I then realize that she’s actually lying in my bed, with all my favorite blankets. I tell her and my other flatmate who stands by my side and was the one showing me around the flat, now introducing me to Alison Brie, that she would have to put my bed back in my room. Our mutual flatmate concurs. She sweetly and passively or lazily declines, covering herself up even more with my blankets, and slithering under the covers. I jump in the bed and roll around with her. The other flatmate disappears. The light is turned down, or off, but I still see her, no longer as Alison Brie, but someone else. . . — this woman I was checking out on IG in the outside ‘real’ world last night. She’s lesbian, I think. Anyway, so I see this young woman through the dim street light cast from the window. I stroke her arms and tell her she doesn’t have to put my bed back, but she has to let me sleep here every night. I knew I wanted, not just my bed back, but her room and her self, but I didn’t tell her that. I said to her, we don’t have to sleep together or have sex, we could just literally sleep together because I can’t sleep well in other beds. . . She doesn’t say anything. She seems to think it over. Then she proceeds to pull down the covers, pull down my pants, and go down on me. It was quite graphic. She does it soft and deep. And then when she finishes we both look at the long soft hairs growing on the tip of the penis. She goes on to straddle me, the hairs gone when she puts me inside her. She raised herself and I came on her, the white fluid translucent pouring on my belly.
dream chronicles 