brain_movies raze i_have_weird_dreams. 130118 ... raze they were kicking up dust last night. a robin walking around in my bed like a squirrel, before vanishing without ever taking flight. a mobster who agrees he's never had to work for anything when a potential partner insults his line of work, but then says he refuses to interact with people who "don't deal in healthy karmic energy". his blue collar friend leaves the room during a conversation with his wife after their home has been partially destroyed by fire, with an exasperated, "i need an identity." another friend tries to reassure the woman that her husband is a good man in spite of how he makes his money. "he is who he is. he makes no apologies. he's atoned for every sin through his grandkids." i show up for a house concert at my stepfather's mother's house (a recurring dream setting) dressed in a suit with no tie. everyone else is dressed very casually. two women decide that my clothes are a manifestation of arrogance, and there's no convincing them otherwise. they want me gone, and they'll do whatever they can to be rid of me. a kind african american man with a soothing baritone voice takes me aside, says something about "keeping them close", and hides me behind the open front door while trying to diffuse the situation. a maid who doesn't speak english and doesn't notice me pulls away the curtain that's covering the window and keeping me hidden. before i can duck away, one of the women notices me and points out to her friend that i'm still here. they don't take it very well. later, vindication arrives in a strip club, where i hear they serve surprisingly good chicken wings. two dancing women look at me like they want to take me home with them. i give one of them a smile and then walk out, feeling i've proven my point, if only to myself. whatever my point was. oh, and that kind man who tried to help me? he's not actually human. when he told me about "keeping them close", he wasn't talking about those women, or anything i might have guessed at. i see him standing in a room with a cement floor, peeling away the skin on his chest to reveal not blood and a beating heart, but complex robotic viscera. like the architecture of a tiny futuristic city. he allows other men inside, where they take on the form of serpents, coiled inside his machinery. this evokes a strange sort of tenderness, on some subliminal level where words no longer have any use. 130206 ... amy anthropology nice. 130206 ... raze climbing into a secret hiding spot in the ceiling of an office building that seems to function more as random hangout than any kind of proper office; singing what sounds like a capella zulu music with a large group of south africans, somehow possessing an innate understanding of their language, explaining to a caucasian listener that though it sounds like a happy song, it's actually about living in poverty and having no hope; a handshake of loyalty; an unapproved burlesque show on the stage of the high school auditorium leading to a violent altercation over ethics. only in dreams do you get to be both an instinctive zulu singer and a hunter of hustlers. 130314 ... raze glutinous saliva that crawls across the floor and sucks out your creativity through your mouth. well, that's a new one... 130323 ... raze more_things_learned_from_dreams figurante marionette hackneyed piecemeal end_credits cusp aestivate sun_on_a_rope sleeping_music one_who_was_never_there blatherskite_dreams on_the_small_ragged_couch what_gives_you_a_kick a_word_that_isn't_a_word a_drawing_of_you she_sings_he_kills_things gone_girl_gone small_dogs_are_bad_liars she's_like_a_pinwheel_camera small_red_friend 130613 what's it to you? who go blather from