nightmares moonshine Consisting of rotting babies hidden under Sugar bags in the store room of employment. 010228 ... silentbob i wanted hannibal to give me nightmares i wanted this fear and heartbreak to be dedicated to you 010301 ... birdmad my first memory of early childhood, a nightmare of being chased through and underground tunnel by a giant rainbow-swirl all day sucker with teeth that had dropped from the sky on a parachute maybe i've always been fucked in the head 010301 ... hsg face ur fears in ur nightmares. u can't really die & then you'll be @ peace. 061130 ... raze i don't have many anymore, but half the brain_movies that fit the bill involve someone breaking into the house. last_night i walked home and found the front_door unlocked. lucky for me, since i didn't have my key. i'd just finished securing the deadbolt and spring latch when i saw three men standing in the driveway. one of them was holding a tire iron. i thought about grabbing the baseball bat from the kitchen. running turned to sluggish writhing, and i knew they'd be inside before i could arm myself with anything. dreams absent any obvious strangeness often feel mundane enough to pass for waking_life. this was one of those. i tried to shove myself out of sleep. afraid for a moment i wouldn't able to. then i was awake in my bed, and all i had to fear was whatever misery the morning might bring. 240928 ... epitome of incomprehensibility My most vivid childhood nightmare was prompted by something that's not, on the surface, actually scary: the frustration of trying to toss a leaf in one direction but the wind blows it in another. I'm in the family cottage, a small bungalow of a building, still with its old wood stove (in real life too, back then). Its door is open, so I try to throw a leaf into the fire, but I can't get it in and it changes into a tiger. No worry: it's a little tiger kitten. My brother and I play with it on the rug around the fireplace. Warm, cozy. But all of a sudden, maybe when I pick up the kitten, it gets sucked into the fireplace, first liquefying into colour to fit through that slit of an opening. Then the flames start coming out too, enveloping the metal stove as if it's wood. I try to move my brother, who's a small child. I try to warn him, but I can't speak or scream. I put my hand on his arm, but I can't move my feet to help him or myself. ...This dream unsettled me because it didn't have the comedy that often tinges my dreams, even scary ones. On the good side, I was extra careful about the wood stove while it was there. 240928 what's it to you? who go blather from