August 5th, 2005

b/g - in the library

I dreamed about crack houses and killing a man with a pointed piece of metal

I had to get this down, since it's the longest dream I've remembered (also probably the strangest) . . .

We'd gone to visit J in San Francisco, staying at his place that was a compound filled with hippies somewhere out along a dirt road.  They left me, my boy who always leaves me for his other boy, and I found my father and an abandoned puppy that I had to adopt and put in the front seat of the convertible.  I was driving N's car to bug him for going with J.  They came back high on speed that for some reason they didn't share - left me feeling left out and knowing that they were buzzing a thousand miles an hour faster than I was.  The compound turned into a crack house and I went to get my puppy and the car, to bring it around to the other side of the house and have something to play with and take care of.

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