RUDYS DREAM(B)LOG
Otherwise known as a Freudian slip, but not the one you're thinking of! Here I document my dreams as I wake up so I can psychoanalyse them and let them haunt me for years to come.
Here's your one and only warning that I dream about weird stuff and I dream about scary stuff. Tread lightly if you have triggers and above all be mature if you're gonna whine.
CURRENTLY A MASSIVE WORK IN PROGRESS!!! I just found out I deleted my 2021-2023 dream journal archive and I'm sad :( but I remember some of them and have snippets saved elsewhere online so I'll collect them and update them here. In due time of course.
17/02/2025;A GG Allin-esque wannabe rockstar asked if I'd pay to buy a pair of his jeans that he had just put on the floor and pissed on, and I said absolutely not unless you raise their worth. So we went back and forth trading things to raise the worth of these pissy jeans. I didn't get to see what was deemed 'worth it' enough to trade. |
DATE LOST;I was a part of the cast of The Magnus Archives, though we were space researchers in a field for some reason. I saw Helen Richardson in the field and she gave me some loving and caring words of advice. Daisy received a fortune from a clairvoyant not to date Basira. |
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DATE LOST;I was in a very liminal version of my village, and I entered what felt like my nans house, but it was not her house. I fought and killed a goose in the living room, and it was as shocking and frightening as if I'd actually killed a goose in real life. When I killed it I put it in a washing basket. Lots of people I didn't know stared at me in horror at what I'd done. |
DATE LOST;A beautiful big-chested blonde surfer-looking jock bro invited me to his house, sat me between his legs, and dressed me in his sweat-soaked button-up shirt. I could feel the subtle dampness and slight coolness where his sweat touched my skin. Incredibly erotic dream. |
DATE LOST;My mother was a white owl-faced centipede and my father was an ant-torsoed centaur corpse. We took the corpse of an angel out of the fridge and ate chunks out of its body and it was the texture and taste of sweet crumbly meringue. Our front door locked on a system based on fertility, a 'barren womb' meant the door was unlocked and a 'fertile womb' meant it was locked. I went to walk to my nans house and the grass was made of human hair and the grudge was staring at me through her front window. Dream ends. |