Tag: sleep

a dream I had about a freaky bisexual girl

The last thing I remember is silently signaling for Chris and them to pass me my camera as the two girls kissed right there in front of us. One was like a real-life girl I know named Shelbi with a little Bayda or maybe even some Rugina mixed in; a biracial (bisexual) Kat Stacks type of ho who’d expose her bare tits in a room full of horny “niggas”, let them grab them and let them rub them, because she liked the attention. In fact, that’s what was happening before she walked over and started tongue-kissing the other quieter more reserved girl.

Both were young, probably no older than around 20, and sexy as fuck. Sneaking a video of them kissing and caressing each other while standing-up and possibly (hopefully) going on to take it even further for us was the extent of my participation though. Seconds earlier, I’d watched as Chris, a guy who seemed like a real-life friend of my sister’s I’d just met, and one or two other guys rubbed on the one girl’s tits with happy grins. I wanted to join-in but resisted if only to distance myself from any future accusations of sexual assault.

2014 May 01

a dream I had about meeting a distant cousin

I guess she was my “second” cousin. That’s sort of what the two of us figured-out as she sat at a table in what seemed like the upstairs living room of my grandmother’s old house. In this dream, it was my living quarters though, and there I sat at my computer, much like I am in real life typing this dream post now. We’d only recently met, that day it seems, and this was our first time really engaging in conversation and getting to know each other. She’d told me, from the bottom of the stairs where the backdoor is, that she needed to use a computer. I forgot exactly what it was she needed to do, but I told her she could use mine, in a “minute” or a “second” though, meaning not to come up just yet. And she seemed to understand. But as we talked, me upstairs at my computer and her downstairs looking up to where my voice was coming from; I don’t know if she could see me, but she certainly couldn’t see the computer screen; she began to walk up.

The problem was that, while there wasn’t necessarily anything I didn’t want her to see up on the screen at the time, I knew that once she sat down and started to do whatever it was she had to do, which almost certainly involved getting on the internet, it probably wouldn’t be long before she’d stumble across some porn or something embarrassing like that. Not that there’s anything inherently wrong with having porn and such on your computer. It’s just that she was a distance relative I’d just met and that’s not something I wanted to spring on her that soon into our relationship. Besides, she looked and acted quite young. I’d guess she was in her early twenties, but she might have been as young as seventeen years old. Whatever her age was, I didn’t think letting her stumble upon my world of porn was a good idea, so my plan was to quickly close all windows, delete all cookies and everything before she came up to use the computer. I never got that chance.

I was still trying to click windows close and delete my internet “history” as she got to the top of the stairs and stood there beside me, facing me but facing only the back of the computer monitor, but it didn’t take long for her to walk around and take a seat at the table; I think it was a table but it could’ve been a desk or a couch; behind me. That meant she could see everything I could see on the screen, which would’ve been fine if she wasn’t there to use the computer; I had several harmless windows up; but was anything but fine under the circumstances. Aside from my site name and links to (other) porn sites popping-up as you type in the address bar, there were open windows with pictures of her. “I even have your pictures on here,” I might’ve phrased it before she had a chance to see them for herself. “Oh really,” she might’ve shot back, with a smile, seeming happily surprised as I clicked each window to show her the recent pictures I had of her.

She was sort of cute but not really. I’m quite sure I’d rate her a 3 of 5. Her face was okay enough and her general skin color was a nice sandy tan, but she had a lot of dark spots or smudges on her face, probably from acne or some other long-term skin disorder, and wore relatively thick eyeglasses. Her teeth might’ve been off-puttingly crooked too, but I liked her spit-moist lips. While not exactly thin, her body wasn’t close to being fat neither. Distant cousin or not, she was certainly attractive enough to have sex with. And I got the sense that she probably thought the same about me. Maybe it was just her personality, but she certainly seemed to latch onto me emotionally as she sat there smiling at me, telling me repeatedly, almost desperately, that she wanted to “help” me. It would’ve been an odd thing to say in real life, especially to a virtual stranger, but I somehow knew, or figured, that she meant I could use her basically however I wanted.

She wanted to become friends with me, in other words. That’s what I got from not only her words but her submissive body language. It was more than just a sexual thing. Perhaps she was just lonely and needed someone to bond with; a void I was certainly willing to fill, at least until I got what I wanted out of her. “Can you sing,” I asked before telling her that I could certainly use her if she could sing or rap. I don’t remember her exact words in response, but it seemed to be a hesitant no. She didn’t really have a good singing voice and didn’t really know how to rap, she seemed to be trying to say, but she was willing to give either a try if that’s what I wanted. As she talked in stuttered mumbles, I turned from the computer screen; I’d been mouse jumping all along, almost at random, trying to figure-out how to solve the impending porn problem; and looked at her face again, contemplating whether or not she looked good enough to be seen out in public with.

2013 October 15

a dream I had about seeing two dragons fighting in the night sky

I was outside, sitting down or standing up, when I happened to look up to the night sky as I sometimes do, expecting to see maybe a few distant stars. What I saw shocked me like I’ve never been shocked before. It was two huge dragons fighting. At least I assume they were fighting. They could have been jousting playfully, in some kind of macho show of dominance, as many animals do. All I knew was that what I was seeing was truly spectacular.

Dragons weren’t supposed to be real, of course, and I knew that. So I pondered in my mind, if only for a moment, the possibility that I was dreaming. It was a possibility I quickly ruled-out because, I thought, I obviously wasn’t. I’d think I’d always be able to tell I’m dreaming if I questioned it in a dream, but not this time. In hindsight, it could’ve been some kind of elaborate optical illusion, a man-made farce of sorts, but I was convinced that what I was seeing was real.

It wasn’t just my eyes telling me this, though there they were, just as clear as anything else in my field of view; two huge dragons flying around, tussling in the night sky. I could also hear them. Every time their bodies clashed, I could hear the thump. That, even more than the visual aspect, is what really convinced me. I would certainly have been more skeptical in real life, but I guess I figured such sounds would be too hard to hoax.

What I did, within seconds of noticing the dragons, was probably the best, or smartest, thing I could’ve done. I grabbed my camera; not the iPod Touch, but the Sony HDR-CX110 I generally use for HD (“1080p”) video; and began to record. I clearly remember holding it up and panning around to keep them in the frame as much as I could as they dipped and dashed about, sometimes getting scarily close.

That’s “close” in the sense that they might notice me and try to eat me or something. It’s hard to tell how far away they actually were. I don’t know how big they were and I’m generally not good at judging distances, but I’d guess it had to be a matter of miles. They were far away enough so that you wouldn’t necessarily notice them unless you happened to be looking up and the sounds weren’t necessarily loud enough to make you look up.

I did look around at some point to see if anyone else had noticed them, either on their own or by me recording them, but I didn’t see anyone, which made my video all the more important. I knew I was capturing something phenomenal; I assume I was thoughtful enough to make sure the red “record” light was on, though I don’t remember checking for it; so I stayed there recording, both standing still and dashing myself toward the entrance of the hotel or whatever building it was I was just outside of when their heads turned my way.

I recorded them until I lost them. I don’t remember exactly how that happened. I assume they simply flew away. I didn’t wait as long as I probably should have to see if they would come back because I was too anxious to go upstairs and transfer the video file to my computer, external hard-drives and, of course, the internet. Besides a massive plug for my site and overnight fame, I knew I had the potential to make a lot of money from it.

I was ecstatic as I went into the building and raced up a long series of stairwells, crowded with people and food; servers with dishes and pans and… I don’t know. This part is foggy. I just know that I was headed up to one of the higher floors, where my computer was. That’s what makes me think it was a hotel of some kind, or maybe a big apartment building and I lived in a suite. There was something else interesting, or other interesting things, going on in my life, but the dragon video was at the top of the list.

2013 October 05

a dream I had about hiring Pinky and Misty to exercise at my mother’s house

“What you got them girls doing in the living room?” I think that’s how my mother phrased the question with a mild tone of concern. She was talking to me from another room in the house, so I could only hear her. “That’s Misty and Pinky,” I answered back as I walked closer to where she was, talking loud enough for her to hear me but hopefully soft enough so that the girls wouldn’t. They’d been walking around doing erotic dances, but I told her they were exercising, which was also true. I’d hired them from some kind of house service I found on the internet. The deal was for them to come to my house, or my mother’s house, and basically perform a striptease in the name of good health.

I don’t remember what my mother said back to me, if anything, but it was obvious she didn’t approve of them being there. She didn’t seem upset though. It was as if she didn’t think what they were doing at the moment was too bad but figured it would soon get much worse. So I walked over to the living room where Misty, an imaginated health guru, and Pinky, the real-life porn star, were. They were still dressed, much to my relief, though Pinky had stripped down to what appeared to be some kind of sexy lingerie. “You’re not going to get naked out here, are you,” I asked, perhaps in those exact words, talking soft enough so that my mother wouldn’t hear me, “My mom is tripping.”

Pinky said she wouldn’t with a look of disappointment. She was disappointed, I figured, because she wanted to get naked and perhaps start performing sex acts for me and there I was basically telling her she couldn’t. I didn’t mean she couldn’t at all, of course, just not out in the living room where my mother or siblings could walk in and see her. I don’t know how old I was in this dream; I stopped living with my mother at the age of 16 or 17; but I’m quite sure my little brother and little sister were also at home. My plan was to have Pinky and Misty do their thing in my room with the door closed as I recorded them with my video camera. Unfortunately I awoke before that part.

2013 September 26

a dream I had about going back to the past

The year seemed like 1987, but, based on how old I seemed, it was probably a few years later. I think I was at my uncle Gabe’s old house at first, with him, Too-Too and Tobe. He was yelling at us, not really angry but in a half-joking sort of way, as he often did. I remember laughing without worrying about getting in real trouble for it. Even then I knew what was going on, that I had somehow warped back to the past, but I don’t think I mentioned anything about it until later. By then, Tobe and Cordell were gone. It was just me and Gabe, but now we were in the dining room of my grandmother’s old house.

I told him that it was going to sound real crazy what I was about to say but to basically hear me out. He was listening but I could tell he wasn’t really taking me seriously, which was fine. “I’m from the future,” I said before telling him my future (present) age and presumably the future (present) year. I don’t remember what all I told him but I remember telling him that he looked very much the same, just with a bigger belly, to which he replied with a dry “I hate you.” A joking comment like that would be out of character for him in real life, but it was funny in the dream. So I chuckled before continuing on.

I could tell he still wasn’t taking me seriously though, let alone believing me. He seemed to think I was setting-up some kind of elaborate joke. But I wanted him to know I wasn’t playing around, that I really was “from” the future or at least knew what was going to happen up to the year 2013. I even told him that I could tell him who dies and who lives on. I’d already implied that he and I were still alive, but I was thinking about other family members or, since no major family members of ours have died in all that time; his father, my grandfather, was the last one and he died in early 1987; celebrities.

I must’ve somehow had or thought I had the ability to go back and forth between the past (present) and the present (future) at will because, in order to prove it to him, which I was becoming increasingly more desperate to do, I came-up with the idea of getting on the internet; I asked if he knew what the “internet” was and he didn’t seem to know, so I gave him a brief description of it; and looking up tomorrow’s date to see what, if any, celebrities would die. I asked what date it was and I could’ve sworn he agreed that the year was 1987. Again, I seemed older than I would’ve been that year.

I would’ve liked to continue the dream from there, to see his reaction to my revelation, but that was it. I awoke after telling him what I planned to do in order to make him realize I was telling the truth. At that point, he still wasn’t buying it, which, considering the fact that I hadn’t provided him with any actual evidence, he shouldn’t have. I wouldn’t have. But I’m thinking the celebrity death thing, assuming it covered several people over the course of days and those deaths weren’t limited to people who were already on their death beds, would’ve convinced me. And I’m generally harder to convince than him.

2013 February 04