So many dreams that I've gotten behind on. Most of which weren't that exciting or they were too nonsensical to write down at all. Most recently there was one featuring Fairuza Balk. It was a little bit sexy as my brain tends to automatically go that direction when I think of her in waking time but the night before that... I had a good'un.
1920.
I walked into a lounge. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and the sound of laughter mingling with the piano in the background. Ladies hung on the arms of suave-looking gents, folks sat on the sofas and recited poetry to each other, some knocked back drinks at the bar and in the middle of the floor there was some dancing going on. I felt like I was meeting someone there so I kept scanning the crowd, feeling a bit lost and overwhelmed at first but then I saw her.
She was leaning against the bar, sipping a drink, her hungry gaze falling on me as I approached. She delicately set her drink down and curled her fingers in the front of my shirt,
"I've been waiting for you, boy. What took ya?"
I felt as if I had never been so flustered in my life, "Er-- sorry."
"'Sorry' doesn't cut it." And suddenly she was leading me through a heavy beaded curtain. In the next room there was a huge pile of pillows backed up the wall. It was an avalanche of pillows. The lighting was low and as she fell back on the cushions she pulled me with her.
... Yeh...
Nice dream is nice.
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