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my dreams have become increasingly bizarre and busy. it's gotten to the point where i can't even articulate scenes, put things into order, or go back to sleep when i wake up. i mean, i've been having bizarre dreams all my life, but i've gotten good at re-telling them. these? whoo. no way. i think a jumble of words best describes and shows the flow of these dreams:

end of world/war/rioting? must get out, homemade tai-fighters, but no fuel. eyeshadow is powder petroleum, we work to put little sprinklings of powder on matches. will it be enough to propel us out into space? i use vegetable oil petroleum jelly eyeshadow in a canister. will it work? realize that the matches just pop when lit, it's a distraction to fool the guards into thinking it's gunfire. we make a run for it. i kiss riker goodbye because i think "what the heck...". we fly off and have a new mission. go through every drive thru possible, piling up big macs, milkshakes, fries, onion rings, extra mayo...now flying low between two long rows of booths, people gorging on denny's, the olive garden, micky d's...we drop the fat bombs on them and kick their grand slams. their foot-long free bread. their fat faces take in the assault with confusion, despair.

that's an inkling of one night's dream, the scenes i can remember and can actually put the visuals into words. i'm not so sure i'd fare as well with the others.

i do remember that two dreams had my recurring open-toilet fear in them.

oh what the heck. this is probably the best analogy for what i'm seeing in my dreams these days. turn your sound up REALLY LOUD.