A couple months ago or so, David Lynch's film Eraserhead was on the TV for some reason. My husband was watching it and I couldn't help but stand transfixed for a while, while that nasty baby appeared and then the Lady in the Radiator sang her song. (If you've never seen it, you should probably scar your psyche with this stuff at least once. Lynch is the only filmmaker with any undestanding of dream logic.) Sure, I loved that movie in high school, but it's the last thing I would ever want to encounter in my own dreams. I was planning an LD attempt that night, and hoped the film wouldn't influence me.
Inevitably, when I fell asleep that night I promptly found myself in an Eraserhead-like setting. Something horrible was trying to get through the door into the room I was in. I was vaguely lucid. At first I tried to lock the door but it wasn't working. Something kept trying to push the door open. Then I was like, "Screw this, this is not my dream!" I had thought it over and felt no moral obligation to deal with some other guy's messed up visions. If it were my own monsters I would have tried to love them, but I realized I couldn't love the characters or creatures from Eraserhead. Sorry, Lynch, that's your dream space, not mine! You deal with it. So I turned my back on it, flying up through the ceiling and into the sky until it all fell away.
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