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Public Restroom. [04 Jul 2002|05:04pm]
[ mood | scared ]

It's a Nardin class reunion for the masses. Old ladies to fresh graduates. I'm still frozen in Junior year. Catering, perhaps. I have to urinate, so I walk down a deserted hallway with walls painted the color of mahogany and a mangled carpet that may have once been crimson.
Women's bathroom is on the right. There is no door. The small, egg-white tiling creeps out of the entranceway like a disease. I walk inside.
The air is coated with a thick, putrid fog. There are only a few stalls, but the room is crowded with teenagers and middle-aged women. A lady at the mirror attempts to disentangle an antique comb from her hair, but instead pulls out her frizzled mane in chunks to reveal a bloody, flaky scalp.
I see a stall with an unhinged door, so I walk in. A middle-aged woman has sunken into the metal toilet, her knees bent up to her neck. She is entirely naked, and her eyes have rolled back into her head. Her face is positioned towards the ceiling so that only the whitness of her yees and the blackness of her nostrils show. Her skin ahs that dead, bluish look, and large ulcers fester on her corpulent legs. A little girl tugs on the woman's hairy leg and whines that she has to pee. But the woman does not wake up.
People are vomiting everywhere, some into the garbage bin (either out of habit or disgust) because all the sinks are already clogged with puke. Yellow, omelet-curd puke slides down the walls.
I run to get some help, but when I return, there is no one left but the janitor, standing in the entranceway. She expects a tip for cleaning the bathroom. I give her a twenty and then run.

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Old Broom Bailey [26 Feb 2002|05:24pm]
[ mood | satisfied ]

After finishing Fight Club and beginning to read One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, the subconsious has been filled with thoughts of schizoprhenics and insane asylums.

Last night, I was an 80's girl with poofy blonde hair and flourescent purple lipstick. I was vainly gazing into the mirror in a darkened room when a centipede crawled up to my hand. He dug into my thumb, traveled to my brain, and seized control of my mind. He instructed me to indulge in evil plots, and I was captured and sent to the insane asylum.
Here I met my roomates; one lady wore a crimson, colonial-fashion dress and held a candle. She poured hot wax on herself until there was nothing but a cerated stump. She thought she was wet and kept screaming, "I must purge myself of aquiesence!" which really is just a word relating to water that I fabricated in my own head. Another man wormed around in a straight jacket, his face gray and sack-like. His eyes and mouth had been seared shut.

I had to get out. I escaped the gothic-style mansion. A flock of vultures tried to fly after me and peck at me, but I ran down Cleveland Avenue. It was a long, snowy way down the hill, and Canisius had uprooted its trees. I walked inside and found myself not in high school, but at the Mount! There to put up lights for a Christmas festival.

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[03 Feb 2002|09:54pm]
[ mood | apathetic ]

Last night's dream vaguely resembled the end scene of Bedknobs and Broomsticks , in which Ms. Price and I fired at the Nazis with the graphite of mechanical pencils.

If only history could be that innocent.

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Looney Toons and the Laws of Friction [19 Nov 2001|06:50pm]
[ mood | chipper ]

Last night's dream was somewhat cheerful; I was in this Medieval town square in an amusement park. Lauren was complaining about the store advertisement on her shirt when a chair from the lift overhead came crashing into the center-square fountain.Unfortunately, no one was hurt.

So I went back to the business of entering shops and irritating people with my remote control. Well, technically, it was I and this prodigal cellist I saw in concert. We played with the remote for a while, which was remarkably like the switches and knobs in the Mount's kitchen, and I remember commenting on the girl's spidery fingers. Anyway, we were poking people behind the back, similar to wearing an invisibility cloak, with these electronic pulses. Then we started capturing Looney Toons characters and putting them into a box (similar to the equipment in Ghostbusters). The FBI was angered by this and began to chase us. The cellist turned into a black girl, I don't even know whom it was, and we ran down this sloping hill; the backdrop for the scene was these lovely rolling mountains. Anyway, the bricks in the ground were jagged, and I had to stop. The girl and I decided to swing off of a tree limb. I was scared, but realized that the sloping ground on which I was descending had a powerful force of friction; I soon stopped in this little wedge. The background had turned to a street and buildings, sort of like Boston. I swung from the tree into a hole.

Then it turned to this dark basement room with purple lights. Pictures of decaying bodies kept appearing everywhere. I was then back in a barn with Lock, Shock, and Barrel (from The Nightmare before Christmas!) and we went out into the field under these animated stars to stare at scarecrows with pumpkin heads. At this point, I think I was partially awake, reflecting upon an old dream.

So I think I woke up then with Holly howling at the door. The dream had been fun.

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RANDOM SCHOOL [12 Nov 2001|01:05pm]
[ mood | worried ]

I've decided to start up this journal again, as digital records are very entertaining.

Anyway, last night's dream was somewhat bootcampish. Some male and I were walking on garbage trucks by the sea. Boats were harbored, and I soon felt myself choking on his cigarette smoke. I was then back at Kate's house, where he threw the butt into the fireplace. A number appeared from the smoke and fire like a website counter: 1.

I was then in the locker room of the YMCA, where many recruits were classified into groups, some to splatter brown paint on walls, some to do gymnastics, and some to walk across a desert. The guy in charge was figuring out how to properly place baggage inside the locker. He was rather dumb.

I also saw this kid again, whom I was peers with in about fourth grade. I think he left after that. Anyway,
I say, "Didn't you go to the Mount?"
"Yeah. Why'd you leave?"
"No, you're the one who left."

We ate licorice sticks after that. I woke up to hear that a plane had crashed about three miles from my cousins' house.

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SHALLOW WATERS [14 Jun 2001|06:43pm]
My dream was extremely symbolic of real life; quite normal, actually. Its sad; Ive been having normal dreams, lately.

In this dream, I was reading (yes, reading of all things), devouring the writing on my front lawn. The words were actually inscribed on the grass as well as the neighbors lawn and the driveway. I decoded the crypt, and there formed a mud puddle. The lawn now actually looked like some house a few doors away from the front of our school, but anyway; so I attempt to step in the water, when Brooke should appear wearing goggles and a feather boa. She yells something and runs into the neighbors house, up and down a stairwell until she slams into an entrance door that only opens when pulled. Twas rather entertaining.

I return to the pool of water and dip my feet in it. Suddenly, there is a feeling of elevation, similar to the feeling over enduring a loop on a backwards roller coaster (the best part).

So I emerge from the muddy water hole, and I am suddenly perfected in all areas required in the completion of a happy if-not-materialistic adolescence. I have the perfect body (this is not to denounce my already curvaceous figure), the ability to absorb Global History facts, and an award-winning smart-ass comeback for everything.

An old lady sat in her rocker on the front porch, giving a relinquished sigh and saying, You know, Its sad; the pool was once actually useful. But now, everythings so... Americanized.

And I replied, Well, maybe I LIKE being Americanized.

Now if thats not a total real-life dream I dont know what the hell is. I wish to return to dreams of slanted walls and toilets, however.
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Not far off from the Wizard of Oz... or any type of humanly persecution. [28 May 2001|09:27am]
[ mood | nostalgic ]

Last night was a mystery-like journey through this random building. The carpets were brown as usual, and there were many stairs along the way, but my mission was to free the imprisoned people from the grasps of this ugly lady.

Well, when I saw that she was drinking hydrochloric acid, I figured that she must be allergic to water. I was nearly thrown onto this conveyor belt heading to a furnace; I narrowly escaped and sprayed water over her and the workers. Hurray... I had won!

I returned home and rode around on my bike for awhile. The garage had a third seperate room for the bike nest. I ventured into the backyard Natalie (my cousin) and my sisters were playing with Pound Purries and Pound Puppies (the original kind), those of which I miss dearly.

I woke up... an entire day off!

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Rabies [24 May 2001|10:41pm]
[ mood | relaxed ]

The dream began with the burning down of Gates Circle Hospital.

Our house was located right near the fire,and I questioned the reporter (who looked like that Chad Simmons dude from "Snow Day") on the outcome of the fire. He said it looked pretty dismal, and everyone would parish. A pleasant thought.

I ran home and began to dart up the stairs, looking for Holly (my cat). My mother screamed for us to run into the basement.

"Forget the cat; it's every man for himself now!"
Which I know is about the last thing my Mother would say.

The dream moved to a quieter time in the aftermath of the fire. Holly had escaped during the time of chaos and was bitten by a rabid dog. She acted pretty normal at first, but we watched for signs of evil.

So one day I venture into the darkened living room when I see Holly with glowing read eyes and fangs covered in foam. Scary. My family and I take her to the vet (which happens to be at the western square place at Fantasy Island). Tis a dismal day.

I later find that Becky was infected with rabies as well and has passed away. This is the point of great emotional involvement of the dream; I remember lying on my grandparents drab green living room couch, thinking of the life without one of my sisters.

White lace, a symbol of Death, covers the scene, and I force myself to wake up.

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Canisius Graduation [23 May 2001|06:46pm]
[ mood | melancholy ]

Last night, I dreamt of Canisius. The interior of the building was not in any way similar to the real-life setting, but the parking lot remained the same (this is what I am most familiar with in real life). I had taken along my stuffed bunny, Button, but was embarrassed upon carrying it through the parking lot. I threw it in my car, that is, the WRONG car. Fortunately, the owner of the car was nice enough to return it to me.
Once I ventured into he building, I saw it as one of those Wegmans-colored dreams.
Both male and female seniors were graduating, and I was sitting in the back of the windowless, dark-hospital type room when I began to hear our dear principal sing. I could not stand the commotion, so I headed down one of the hallways of the building. Here I saw small novelty shops abound. Because I could not drive my car (a white mini van) through the shelves of porcelain figurines, I decided to look around a bit. There were red beaded curtains around the stacks of purses in the left side of the hall. When the fountain turned on beneath, it was quite beautiful.
The seniors were now marching through that hallway, so I escaped. Unfortunately, I have gone through a day of using (or attempting to use) my left brain, and I have forgotten much of the dream. I will say, however, that it was a pretty NORMAL dream, and TOILET-FREE!
The dream also occurred between 6:00 and 6:32 this morning.
When I awoke, I was thinking that I had painted a plate from a baseball field, commenting that this is a picture of something that will stay, which sort of makes sense, if you think of making footprints in a circle (or diamond), memories marked liked large pentagons.
Enough... I shall go to sleep early again to have a more odd dream!

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Joe's Apartment [18 May 2001|04:35pm]
[ mood | satisfied ]

This dream is fading quickly, but I remember my grandparent's house, dimmed by mourning wallpaper and dark green sofas. My grandparents had firmly decided against buying new furniture, as the items "still had some life in them."
The place was infested with roaches, despite my grandparents' attempt to retain immaculate cleanliness. The cockroaches were the small, turd-like kind, disgusting in comparison to those pretty yellow ones.
They crawled through everyone's flesh. The basements and hallways were dark in our attempted exodus.

The dream changed to a dreary, rainy night, and I was in a warehouse purchasing felt-tip pens. I looked into my date book to view my payment for them, and a Nardin student, who shall remain nameless, grasped it and began to rant about my lethargy. I remember her actually pronouncing "bip bip bip bip bip!"

I awoke the next morning and turned on the television. "Virtual Insanity" was on VH1, which I found puzzling, as it is a somewhat old video. Lo and behold, a brown cockroach makes a cameo appearence in the video!

Perhaps dreams DO possess the keys to the future...

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A Fluffy Dream Turned to Toilets [16 May 2001|09:53pm]
[ mood | rejuvenated ]

It started as an innocent dream... thoughts of cruise ships and seaside leisure, however, soon turned to depressing thoughts of malfunctioning toilets.

I remember going to this faux-Hawaii-Barbeque sort of restaraunt, when my bladder beckons for relief. I step into the coed bathroom, and a long line protudes from the stalls. There were two stalls, actually; a medium-sized one in front with a urinal (oooh big help there) and a miniscule women's stall in the back. There was barely enough room in which my sister could squeeze. These conditions, perhaps, might have been tolerable.

The larger problem? The toilets were bolted to the wall, about fifteen feet off of the ground. So it took some pawing and hoisting before I could finally nest upon a throne. The toilet immediately took to swinging. Marti, however, was there to calculate. She recorded the circumfrence of the toilet seat and it's velocity.

At this depressing point, I forced to wake myself up to a sunny morning. Then the depression REALLY sank in; it was time to get up for school.

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Radiohead Camp [08 Jan 2001|10:08pm]
[ mood | exanimate ]

I finally purchased the Kid A cd today, and let me see that it possessing alchemic qualities. It re-examines childhood nightmares and seeps into my dreams. Tonight, such an even occurred.

Well, at the start of the dream I indeed discovered the meaning of the universe, but had forgotten it at my awakening. I was simply making comparisons between random objects, seeing all sides of them as well as their fabrication and structure. I plugged and chugged, sending each object through a sort of assembly line to be compared to the components of Radiohead's Kid A.

Later, I was in the cold basement of a building. There were shower places embedded in the walls, and someone had stolen my shampoo. I bombarded through one wall, nearly killing someone attempting to shower. As usual, there were toilets and oddly-placed walls.

I moved from that building to the surface, where I spotted a larger building with the Kid A symbol (the bear) largely painted on its edifice.

I stepped inside to see it as a sort of torture camp; adolescent boys where made to stand balanced between a wall and a chair, forcing the weight into their toes, which in turn where balancing on the chair. They had to stay within the chalk outline on the wall or where punished; they had to perform the embarrassing act of removing their shoes. The next task was to hang from a paper towl dispenser.

The dream faded again, and I woke up to the sound of my new Kid A cd and a wet head covered by "The Rachel Hat".

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