I had a dream about Oktober. I don't remember anything about it. Just that he was in it. And maybe it had to do with a girl. It's odd how some things/people stay in the back of your mind. I wonder why my mind wanted to think about him specifically…
Last night I dreamed that I met two girls in a bar converted from an evangelical church, there was an explosion and we had to leave, and there were people outside dancing around dressed like demons. But it was ok because it was only a cartoon explosion. Then I saw a man competing in the London to Brighton bike race on a mechanical emu.
Turned on the news to find out his name (it was balotky jiminides) and saw a news report on “droneless drones” which are basically holes in the sky with robot arms coming out of them.
Gesithan, I’ll be the one in the 50 metre brass steam powered mechanical statue of myself. Behind the left stained glass eye, in an oxblood red leather chesterfield smoking a Peterson pipe stuffed with my own proprietary blend of sweet burley tobacco, Turkish opium, and flaked peyote button.
flack, you can find me down the highway on the Plains, past the eery skyscraper in the middle of nowhere. If it still looks like 2018 you aren't there yet; you can find me when everything looks like the run-down 70s. I'll be in the swinger's bungalow looking house with a huge wood panneled computer taking up most of the living room. (I don't know why my dreams are always in the 70s but they always have been)
flack, don't forget the run down aspect! I think in a lot of ways the 70s of my dreams is actually the 90s of my childhood--everything peaked 20 years before I was born, a world of old man cattle markets, rusty feed bins, cigarette soaked diners.