unconscious_creativity no reason i wrote this really long poem in a dream last night, and my sister was reading it out loud. it was kind of different from something i'd normally (consciously) write, and i kind of liked it. but now i forget most of it, except the basic idea. i guess it's a sort of inspiration, if nothing else. i guess my sleeping self has time to create. 141003 ... nr we were all on some sort of tour, walking around a big house that was like a strange museum. i don't remember much of what was strange about the house itself, but the visitors were doing strange things. i had to hide in a corner while someone was trying to aim their stream of pee at people. in the next part of the dream, i was sitting in a circle with four or five people in a dark empty room, and i was about to lead them in an improv or playing-pretend game. to my left was one of my favourite cousins, then michael cera, then possibly another person or two, then my sister holding a baby who i think was supposed to be my youngest nephew but may have been female in the dream. we all had figured out our roles in this house earlier on (for real, not as part of the improv). michael cera told us he was the one who counted everything and kept an eye on the time. i guess i was the game leader. we went around the circle, introducing ourselves with what our names should be. my cousin said something funny that i can't remember. michael cera said "jim countenclocken!" i thought this was hilarious and i was impressed with how quick he was. i can't remember what the unknown person or people said. my sister didn't introduce herself, just the baby. she said, "this is [random mix of letters and syllables]. it's hard to pronounce!" i thought that was very creative too. and i was stressing about what i should be called. the dream setting faded out a bit before it was my turn to share, but during the fading, i decided my name should be toni baloney. 260926 what's it to you? who go blather from