11/2/2008:
Is She My Dream Guide?
Easton is a town I live in a few days a week, as my teacher/grandfather lives there. It is old and has an old "town center" which has salons and barbers and greasy spoon resteranuts and such. I often enjoy walking along the old rail-road tracks there. There are not alot of kids where I go, and the ones I see are usually emo
I was going on trains in an older Easton (about 1932?) and it was sepia-tone, it was pretty cool and beautiful. All of a sudden I am at the town center (still 1932, but the sepia-tone is gone) and decide to get drugged dog food for my, um, dog (I have no real dog, and have never done any drugs beside dreaming), so I make up a word that sounds like a drug street name. I ask this beautiful emo girl (She is about 5 foot, 6 inches, has blond, short hair that goes town to the begining of her neck. She has black clothes with a black cap, and is maybe 15?) She giggles a little and we go into a empty store with a bag of dry dogfood on a pedistol. The store had yellow-ish walls coated with cobwebs and dust, as well as the un-polishd wodden floor, and a glass store front (Which, now that I think about it, closely resembels my mother's antique stoor (Copper Tree Antiques [npw out of business], which was in a town that actualy bears a closer resembelence to the dream than Easton does, but in the dream I knew it was Easton). We go navigate to her house, through a forest of trees and leaves, and I can recall myself mazing through the woods from the format of a 3ed person map. Her house, which is blaned and has no description for me to recall in any way, bears a strange beauty. I see a pool in the middle of the room that seems empty, and has two paralel ladders, both going down. One is labeled 'Closed Set' or something that inspired thoughts of film, and the other bore a pornographic title, somthing like 'Bald Teen Pussy' or something similar to that. She goes to touch me in a joking manor, like a gental freindly push and falls on me. It is very sexual, and we smile through the warm scilence that in not akward in the least bit. From there, I can recall nothing, except this strange feeling she is my dream guide. I sure hope so, and I hope I see her again
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