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ladyspriteMemo to myself: Never watch Buffy and Smallville back to back while extremely tired. Or if I do, distract myself for at least a few hours before going to sleep. Watch Fraggle Rock, or read something nice and mentally fluffy and soothing. Definitely not an Anita Blake novel. Otherwise I wind up with dreams like I had last night.
The part about teaching a class of arrogant, disdainful burnouts wasn't bad - the metaphor about a cell-bus and the sodium-potassium pump being a turnstile was actually kind of interesting. And the part where I summoned an invisible monster in my bathtub was handleable, too. Stupid - I remember even in the dream thinking, 'why did I do this?' and not being able to come up with a valid answer. We tried to dispel him by taking all the water out... first very carefully with a 12-cc syringe, then when we saw him starting to simultaneously manifest and disappear and the murky gate to a monster realm appeared, with large buckets. It didn't quite work, but we wound up with a kind of gaunt, ineffectual monster who had a crush on my friend and kept trying to point at her, which didn't work because he was, well, *invisible.*
But the vampire... *UGH!* Yuck, yuck, ick, eww.... I hate my subconscious. It was huge, all fat and glistening and grey and ewwww.... like a mountain of horrid flesh. If you ever read the WildCard novels, and slogged through to the ones where Bloat became a character, like that, only cold and grey and undead. He had women crawling all over him, they were his slaves, and against his huge icky body they were like tiny mice. His trachea had collapsed under all the weight, and he needed a breathing tube to breathe. I don't know why a vampire needed to breathe, it made sense at the time. And it was all because of the kryptonite that mutated him to be like that. That's what the slaves were for - rubbing the stuff into him, so he could still live. Or un-die, or whatever the word for vampires is. And for sacrificing their daughters to him; this was in ancient greece and sacrifices were in vogue. I don't know how the kryptonite wound up in ancient greece, it's a dream thing.
Anyway, this is an image that's going to linger. No amount of trying to imagine pink bunnies or sing songs is going to wipe it away until it's good and ready to go invade someone else's subconscious. I love having an active imagination and vivid dreams, but sometimes it comes back to bite me in the rear....
The part about teaching a class of arrogant, disdainful burnouts wasn't bad - the metaphor about a cell-bus and the sodium-potassium pump being a turnstile was actually kind of interesting. And the part where I summoned an invisible monster in my bathtub was handleable, too. Stupid - I remember even in the dream thinking, 'why did I do this?' and not being able to come up with a valid answer. We tried to dispel him by taking all the water out... first very carefully with a 12-cc syringe, then when we saw him starting to simultaneously manifest and disappear and the murky gate to a monster realm appeared, with large buckets. It didn't quite work, but we wound up with a kind of gaunt, ineffectual monster who had a crush on my friend and kept trying to point at her, which didn't work because he was, well, *invisible.*
But the vampire... *UGH!* Yuck, yuck, ick, eww.... I hate my subconscious. It was huge, all fat and glistening and grey and ewwww.... like a mountain of horrid flesh. If you ever read the WildCard novels, and slogged through to the ones where Bloat became a character, like that, only cold and grey and undead. He had women crawling all over him, they were his slaves, and against his huge icky body they were like tiny mice. His trachea had collapsed under all the weight, and he needed a breathing tube to breathe. I don't know why a vampire needed to breathe, it made sense at the time. And it was all because of the kryptonite that mutated him to be like that. That's what the slaves were for - rubbing the stuff into him, so he could still live. Or un-die, or whatever the word for vampires is. And for sacrificing their daughters to him; this was in ancient greece and sacrifices were in vogue. I don't know how the kryptonite wound up in ancient greece, it's a dream thing.
Anyway, this is an image that's going to linger. No amount of trying to imagine pink bunnies or sing songs is going to wipe it away until it's good and ready to go invade someone else's subconscious. I love having an active imagination and vivid dreams, but sometimes it comes back to bite me in the rear....
