Recent DJ Posts

I'm running from some kind of mercenaries, trying to go to university at the same time. I weave my way accross buildings, taking hidden doors and corridors, the mercenaries voices hot on my trail, casual and laughting. I manage to board on a train, half train alf boat, standing up at the prow. There's a woman and her little girl behind me, the girl with pigtails and big blue eyes. She crouches down and pick up a piece or paper stuck to my shoes and excitatly tells her mother that I'm a member of the crew. I feel embarassed and tell her that it's not true, that I picked up the paper somewhere. I let her keep it and she's thrilled. Her mother thanks me and hands me some chocolates. As the train stops, her husband come to picks them up and I leave, still going to university. I meet up with somes of my comrades in a yard, half lawn half cement, and we start a waterballons fight. The sun is hot and the air dry, the water ballons very cold. Another friend calls us from a flat above, waving. We enter the building and go to her place. It's small but very sunny, and now crowned. We manage to all sit in front of her TV for a movie, on two sofa. I'm sitting at one of the end of one of the sofa, with the boyfriend of my cousin and my cousin sitting with me. The boyfriend has very wandering hands and keeps trying to kiss my neck, making me very inconfortable, but my cousin doesn't let me get up. Our phones are stucks together and it's somehow keeping me from leaving. I manage to separate them and get up to sit on the other sofa, next to a tall, brown-haired man. He wraps a arm around my waist and pulls me slightly against him, allowing me to sit confortably. I feel safe with him and snuggle closer.

There was this man, fitted in a old-fashioned tuxedo, with a very white face, white gloves, and slicked back black hair. The lower half of his body is a giant spider, the chitin as slick and shiny as the silk of his waistcoat.
He's on a hardwood scene, under a very bright spotlight that glitter off the joints of his spinnery legs. He's dancing, his four eyes closed as he listens to music I can't hear. It's eerie, graceful, the tips of his legs ticking on the wooden floor like rain on a roof.

Insomnia kicked my ass over the last couple of days. Didn't get any sleep beside a couple of catnaps, so went I finally colapsed this morning I felt face down into a very mundane dream.

I'm going to a seminar with somes friends. We get in a gigantic amphitheater, big as a concert room, and with the same kind of light. The bench are narrow and inconfortable, as are the table. I get caught in the crowd and my friends get in first and sit at the back, next to the door. By the time I manage to get in, the place on the bench they kept for me is occupied. I roll my eyes, feeling annoyed, and go sit elswhere. I find myself seated next to a older gentleman with gray hair and a very mobile face, and we start talking about a videogame, and its use of physics. It's a videogame in which the player controls a boy the size of a mice, using leaf and insects as mean of transportation through his garden. It's very cute and cell-shaded, but the man talking with me complain that the controls are very slippery and unforgiving.

It's the night, in a place full of small, long wood and paper houses, with dirt paths around them. The place is lit by paper lanterns hanging in trees. I'm following a young girl with long, flowing dark hairs. She's transporting a big barrel of sake, with a thick rituel cord warped around it. She's running from a whole sled of chinese and japanese spirits, I can see their shadows on the walls of the houses, pointy headed foxes, jumping parasol, dancing lantern, witches and ogres. She managed to reach a hole in the ground and throw the barrel in.
We're taken to a gigantic house, the woman in charge give us a room to clean. I open the door, it's dark inside, and the smell is horrible, decaying things in a dark, warm place, closed up for years. I gag and put a tissue on my mouth and nose, it's disgusting, but at least it's a dry rot, things turning to dust rather that slime. The girl with me starts filling garbage bin, but I notice another girl, in the room next door, strugling with a younger sibling. My fellow tells me that the younger sibling is mentaly deficient, and that's why they're struggling. I go back to cleaning, but she almost finished it. I pickup something from the previous occupant and unwarp it. It's a wooden sign, with "academy of cooking and baking, 1887" engraved on it. There's also a name, and I deduce that he was the previous candidate; this all thing is a sort of competition. I walk out of our room to another, and I meet up with this man, a chef. He's helping someone whip up a desert, and hand me a place. It's ice cream, with a syrup on it. The syrup is warm, dark chocolat with the faintest hint of coffee. I can't really pinpoint what the ice cream is. It's both sweet and savory, slighly nutty but more well rounded, in a crème anglaise base. It's delicious, the texture is wonderfull, rich without being cloying and creamy without feeling greasy.

I'm laying on a bed. It's made of forged iron, painted white, with high, graceful spirals making up the head and feets of it. The sheet are white too, as is the bigs fluffy pilows. translucents drapes billows from the ceiling to the floor around it, half obscuring the light walls and the french window. Say window is half open to a lush garden. It's day time, but the room is shrouded in shadow. I'm surrounded with bright orange goldfishes, swimming in the air in a complex choregraphy. I touch one of the mand it turn into a luminescent blue, shining with its bones shadowing its skin. It stop when I let go of it. I touch another one and the same thing happen. I find it pretty, and touch my own arm. The same thing happen, my flesh turn blue and luminescent from the tips of my fingers to my shoulder. I realise that I'm wearing a floorlenght nightgown, and that I'm sharing the bed with a sandy haired man. He's sleeping, and I touch his thigh. His whole leg changes, and he wake up. At first he doesn"t say anything, but as I gently move my hand to his torso he starts to freak out and begs me to stop. I'm surprised ans doesn't understand why he's so distressed by what I'm doing, but I let go of him and lay back down on the bed, playing with the goldfishes.