Dream #312: Volcanic Crunch
02.13.2012 § Leave a comment
There’s a basement party glowing with red light.
I’ve been staying up to sunrise, when really I should be doing the opposite, and sleeping through these miserable days.
There’s four evenly spaced mountains in the distance, then three staggered evenly behind them, then two between and behind those three, and one in the middle behind the two. Each row is higher than the one in front, though this appears to be less so because they are taller, but because the ground is angled up, and they are likely 2D. One of them swims and swirls back and forth. Calvin is returning from climbing it, the Secret Mountain, and speaks of the train station there. It all sounds very Mt. Fuji.
I’m in bed at the Sub. My floor is a tarp over volcanic ash, and I’ve spilled cereal on it. It’s the kind of cereal that has both crunchy and marshmallow pieces, but this one has unusually huge crunchy pieces, like chunks of igneous rock. They’re breaking down into ash as well, but are much darker and browner than the grey volcanic ash. I really want to eat this chocolatey cereal ash, but it’s already getting mixed with the volcanic stuff, so I try to eat the bigger pieces first to get full that way. There’s another guy in bed with me, and he gives me a thumbs up. It takes me quite a long time to figure out that it’s an interrogative thumbs up, as if to ask Is it okay to eat this cereal? Well, I mean, I’m eating it, aren’t I, guy?
I’m the main space of the Sub talking with Tristan when his eyes start to glow pink. I trace a ray from his eye to a piece on the fridge, which ricochets to a piece on my shoe, which ricochets to a reflector on a bike that’s against the windows near the entrance to the path to the bathroom.
My brother is trying to tell me about his acid trip with Calvin. At first he lies that he got his acid from Calvin himself, but the truth finally comes out that he brought his own shitty three year old acid, and that’s why it wasn’t so intense.
I’m explaining my acid trip to someone in my room at the Sub. Little did I know that my parents have been on the bunk right above me this whole time, listening!
I wake up in bed with Karin. She’s upset that I didn’t dream about her. I tell her that I was wondering where she was, but that I couldn’t figure out how to dream about her.
Vince and I are playing a much lauded 3D video game inspired by chess and go, based on a game I came up with in middle school: The Blob. Instead of squares referring only to their adjacent squares, however, they can also refer to the squares nested within themselves, triangularly from the corners. In this sense it is a hyper-dimensional game. Someone mentions the time, almost 9 p.m., and everyone exclaims together, How can it be already 9PM?!
The main characters in the game are the Queen of England and Lance, though he was referred to by his last name, Bluth. The Bluths had deeply hurt the royal family at one point and had since become mortal enemies with the crown. But the Queen and Lance have always harbored a secret love for each other — forbidden, never consummated. Now in their passion they are fist fighting. Despite it being a poor strategy in terms of the game, they both keep stretching in height, rising up through the ceilings of the castle floors; they’re spreading themselves too thinly, so that those hyper-dimensional geodesic squares of their pants and dress are easy to knock out from under them. They stretch so thin, in fact, that they get stuck halfway through the roof. They’ve each reached their stretching limit there.
The Queen and Lance are teleported to a burgandy bench in a grey and stormy park. A vender comes by with assorted fruits for sale, cataloguing them alphabetically, most of them exotic and prized. Once he gets to apples, they take three of them, and the vender moves on.
As Lance peels his onion, he speaks of various comparisons, without realizing he’s made an uncomfortable comparison to the Bluths. These two really need a reality check.