Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Just woke up from such an odd dream. Must write it down before I forget.

Unity and I are going to a rave. I'm pretty sure we're wearing what we wore on halloween. We get past security and enter into this big, white tent-like structure which is apparently at the top of a hill, so once we get in the door we can see hundreds of kids just chilling on the incline. Near the bottom are rooms that break off and they have bal pits in them, like they ued to have at McDonald's except that all the balls are black. Everyone is having a really good time and we find a spot on the left side of the incline where we deposit all of our stuff. I then notice that the bottom of the hill where the tent ends is actually the kitchen of a house and that it leads to a deck and garden. The rave is half indoor - half outdoor. So we're just chilling when a girl walking up the incline turns back to us and says "They won't let _____ in." ____ here being a guy we know that sells drugs. Unity states very positively that, "Oh well, guess I'm doing this party clean." (Cannot even dress to you how much that reaction would NEVER happen.) I go back up the hill to check out what's going on. I go back out past security and the next thing I know I'm standing in front of them with the dealer as he's saying to the security people (and these aren't rave security, it's like full on night stick guys) that he put his stuff in his car. They said they would need to search both of us. "Fine," he says, and pulls down my pants. Don't remember feeling overly vulnerable at this point and yet my underwear (white bozer briefs...I don't know either) are clearly around my ankles. The guy has hidden his stuff in the folds of my apparently massive underwear, but the security guys see it and demand that he takes it out of my gitch and show them. He opens the bag and it's little baggies of suckers and a couple white pills in each. Flash forward and I'm back in my spot on the hill, laying on my jacket, having gone and been social for a bit. The dealer comes running up to me with a black knit winter glove and a security guy with a big moustache and patrol vest following him. "Do you want any blow?" he yells. "No," I say, "I don't want that shit!" but for some reason I take the glove anyway, stuff it under my jacket and dump out the contents. The security guy chases the dealer into one of the black ball rooms and the comes and sits down beside me. He's just chatting away making friends and when he's not looking a glance under my jacket and notice 5 white pills about the size of my percribed prednizone. I take one as his head is turned but not having any water, must disolve it in my mouth. If anyone has ever taken an oral steroid, you know: it's fucking not fun tasting. Then, feeling slightly buzzed, I go off to find Unity.

Here I wake up and think, "Man that was weird." and promtly fall back asleep. In what is a very unusual case, the dream continues, or rather picks up some 6 hours later...

I wake up on the hill and I'm laying on my jacket. I venture down the hill, through the house part and into the garden which has very high stone walls, like at Raven. I see her holding a pair of sneakers and a couple celebrity magazine, rifling through all the zonked out ravers. (This must be related to the halloween party where the girl I was with was so fucked at the end that she was looking through all the shit people had left behind) The sneakers are for her boyfriend. She found them. Suddenly my brother shows up and is instucted to help us carry all this stuff that we have amassed out the car. The sun is up and my watch reads 8:29. We get on to the highway and I wake up.

I don't know what it means, but it's my mother's fault.


Laura!! said...

David my darling...
you are the most amazing person in the entire world.
AAAHAHAHAHA unity going to a party clean. As IF.
Take care darling!

unity said...

dhafjkdlhfk SHYADDAP. i could do a party clean if i wanted to bitches. i just don't WANNA. in the immortal words of james st. james, i'm not addicted to drugs, i'm addicted to GLAMOUR.


FUCK alla y'all.