Lseadragon
Your friendly naga

Fragments of Death.

#1

I was talking to a man called Peter. He had three minutes to live; after those three minutes he would have a heart attack. So we talked; and he picked up pieces of party mix from a bag with chopsticks. He ate two pieces, carefully, appreciatively; a square caramel piece, and one of those green musk sticks (although when you bit into this one it would flush out air into your mouth).

Then he went over to the road and very visibly insulted and swore at a truck driver, who came out and bashed him to death. I couldn't look; and I'm not sure if it was the heart attack or the bashing that killed him, for the truckee was ashen. I wrote a memorial speech in chalk on the footpath, beside his body.

#2

everything's falling in an atmospheric fuse
i can see the fog forming fumes on the raintop

fragmentary.

i remember being on a train to altona
Sirius Black invading an evil castle
fighting these slave things that would grab with hands
and every minute they would replicate from a guy hooked up to a machine
so he saved the guy
and went to a party.

Well, I'm starting up my oneironautical explorations in earnest once more. I have been given a new lease on life in the past few days and I am making some changes.

Plus I thought of a couple of goals today which I'd like to try.

GOALS

- Find my draconic counterpart and ask it for an explanation, or a boon. ( )

- Find the Tower of Song. ( )
- (subtask) Climb to the top. ( )-
- (subtask) Find Leonard Cohen. ( )

- Venture to the end of that strange desert. ( )

- Find my old imaginary friend Stingray ( )

I was going to the shops to buy tomatoes. But the line stretched out the door and in a circle around the parking lot. I figured fuck it, I could buy tomatoes tomorrow.

Then I was in somebody's house where a radio was playing. I was fiddling with those old Crush Gear toys, sending them around an arena; and a man was talking about a mysterious feature on a Futurama DVD where you could select one of Fry's posters. It made a strange noise and none of the DVD staff knew about it. As he talked about the strange noise the radio emitted a horrible screech (and it was horrible. It didn't belong in the dream. Thinking about it now I'd almost relate it to Castaneda's accounts of inorganic beings, for that's what it felt like. An inorganic alien, poking into my dream.) which hurt my ears. Then it changed to play Dave Holland. Soon after I woke up.

I dreamt I was an old gay man who was walking along the streets at 3am. I passed a coffee shop which had closed earlier; looked over the road to a small supermarket that was also closed, though the lights were on; and returned to the coffee shop. The owner was still there (and was also an old gay man), so he let me in. In the coffee shop dozens of really open shelves filled the open space horizontally, packed with books.

The man made me some coffee (and I wasn't sure what to ask for, stammering, although I wanted something with caramel; so when he suggested something I just went with that) which he mixed multiple times with ice cream. Apparently if they didn't do it right they'd throw it out and do it again. Seemed like a waste of ice cream.