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I was on some kind of beach film set. Neil deGrasse Tyson was there and I assumed he had just wrapped up filming a bit for Cosmos because he was celebrating with wine. Zooey Deschanel was also there along with Louie CK, my ex Dee and a couple other studio people. Neil poured me some wine which was slightly tannish in color. I had some but I went out through the production room, which had a glass window looking out on the set, to use the bathroom and when I came back out I forgot my glass of wine in the production room. When I rejoined the group I lit up a cigarette while they were passing around a beer, some kind of unidentifiable craft brew or homebrew. Neil said it was special and passed it over to me on a saucer. I smelled it and then took a large swig. Neil said, "Woah woah woah, not so much!" It seemed more out of concern than anger though. I gave it to him but he handed me the saucer back with some spilled beer on it and said, "Well you drank that much, might as well take care of this. Waste not, want not." I drank it.
I abruptly woke up on a foldout couch in a nook of the set with no memory of how I got there and figured I blacked out. I felt hung over like I'd drank a ton. The more I thought about it the more certain I was that a lot went down after I drank The Beer but I couldn't remember. There was another couch next to mine and I saw movement beneath the cushions so I patted it a little and said, "Hello?" Zooey popped up and said, "...yes?"
"Why are you sleeping beneath the cushions?"
"It's comfortable, you should try it."
"Yeah, but I don't want to get sat on."
"That would freak someone out, it'd be funny."
"Or we could lean into the corners head-first and stiff as a board and wait for people. Actually, that would be really creepy."
It was silent for a moment because we were both imagining it and then we erupted into laughter. The noise brought my ex and Louie out from where they were asleep on the beach part of the set and we were all laying around on the couches, joking, talking about whatever. Zooey was rambunctious and child-like, laughing loudly, laying on all of us with no regard, jumping on the couches, just being the Manic Pixie Dream Girl I picture her to be in real life. She seemed like she was into me but she was really hard to read. Her and I walked over to the window that would allow us to see into the production room if it weren't dark so she flicked on the light and staring back at us like deer in headlights were a male and female member of the production crew. She turned it off and then back on as if to make sure they wouldn't disappear and they were still there, frozen, staring at us. She said, "Well what have we here?"
The dream cut and it appeared as though we had blackmailed the two crew members into giving us free reign in the studio because they were recording Louie in a sound room, sitting on a couch, just riffing and improvising jokes and stories. I went into the production room with them and found my glass of wine still mostly full and thought, "Whaaaaat... is that all I drank out of it? There must have been something else in that beer." Louie and my ex came into the room just as Zoeey walked by us with no pants on her way to the bathroom. Louie said, "God, she's so hot and free-spirited. She's walking around in her underwear. I mean, her poonani's hanging out of them for all to see." Silence for a moment. I said, "So... who's going in after her?" More silence while the three of us stared at each other. I said, "All of us, I guess."
I guess if I drink one homebrew, two Coors Lights and a tall glass of chianti this is what happens.
I woke up with my ear leaking fluid of some kind. Slightly disconcerting.
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I was working at the bar on a Sunday. Usually slow. I got slammed like it was a Friday night so Erin and boss Tom showed up. I remember taking liberal breaks despite the busy pace, going out on the patio to smoke cigarettes with the regulars and whatnot leaving them to deal with the mess. At some point I came back in and because people were tired of waiting for drinks a guy was behind the bar making himself a mixed drink. I fought my way to him through the crowd, tripping over chairs. "We don't sell liquor on Sundays. Get out from behind my bar." His response was to drunkenly push me, in the face instead of the chest, and I pushed back with such force that he crashed into the register and half fell over. His girlfriend was bitching, zoned her out, then he put his hands up and backed out slowly. Later I went out to the patio and noticed he was out there with a bottle of mixer and a carafe. I grabbed it, went inside, him and his woman followed me in and confronted me yet again behind the bar. I said, "If you don't get out of my bar in the next five seconds, I will fuck you up. I will fucking kill you, do you understand?" As I reached for the bat they took off. Business petered out and everyone was gone so I started closing. Then I noticed a blurry mass in the air. Just a vague waviness. I walked over and touched it and felt like I was yanked out of reality. Stretched, pulled, like my entire mass was being sucked through a keyhole. I ended up between two walls. There was carpeting and a hole ahead of me that looked roughly sawn out with just enough room to crawl to it. I did and the sensation repeated with a distinct rubber band snapping effect. And just like that I was in hell.
Hell, instead of being a place of torture, was just everything that extremely conservative people hate and fear. Sex, drugs, rock and roll. Things that are fun. I was outside my bar but it was a bizarro version with way more flashing neons looking like the exterior of a strip club in a mescaline dream. People were in the streets being genuinely themselves, rambunctious, none fucks given. I went in and the place was packed so I immediately started conversations with people. Scantily clad women mingled, danced, poured booze down throats. After getting the attention of a server I started a tab and ordered a beer (called a Moe's?) and an eighth of bubba kush because apparently you can buy weed in bars if you find yourself visiting hell. I met a couple I started to drink with and I asked how one goes about paying for drinks.
"You didn't bring any money?"
"Well I didn't expect a portal to hell so I left my wallet back in reality. Is there some way to make money in hell? Is there like... an economy?"
They responded, "No, not unless you're here permanently."
I had to ask, "What happens if you owe money in hell?"
"Oh man... they send you to heaven if you owe when you die."
"Okay, so what's heaven like?"
"You don't even want to know. Picture this but the opposite. Boredom for all eternity."
They showed me how to travel back which I forget now but I went back, grabbed my wallet and returned to hell. We got high and I very quickly left with the couple still forgetting to pay my tab. A guy gave me two cigarettes. They wanted to take me to "the bridge." I was suddenly at the center of the biggest bridge imagineable, more epic than even remotely possible on our planet. The bridge was of oversized cobblestone, consisting of four enormous arches each hundreds of miles across. On my right was the area I had come from, an entire vibrant landscape of iridescent glow, the red light district city. On the left a dark mass of equal proportions, sullen, covered in what looked like white cobweb and what I assumed to be the living quarters. Down the middle and flowing beneath the bridge a river of fire that trailed off into infinity all the while spitting up tongues of lava like liquid dolphins, lapping at the air. It was beautiful.
Amidst the awe my mind went back to the unpaid tab. Without asking the guy responded, "They'll cut you slack and just hold on to your tab this time, no penalty. First-time tourist and all. Welcome home."
Been dreaming about the bar lately. After almost 8 months it finally worked its way in there. It presents itself interestingly because it's as much a workplace as it is a hangout so I'm extremely protective of my stomping ground.
I would normally begin to wonder how hell came in to the picture but after all the crazy godforsaken sleep-quests I've taken to the bowels of hades, or accidentally summoning Satan, or battling zombie dogs, stabbing hordes of people to death and whatever else, you'd think I'd stop asking questions I don't want the answer to.
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When the dream started I was in "my house." Felt feverish, my body wracked with pain. I called someone and was telling them that I wanted painkillers or just anything to help me not feel like death, and then she showed up. It was Maura Tierney the actress, who is a good bit older than me but beautiful in my opinion. In the dream we'd known each other a while and it seemed like she worked at a hospital because she started writinng some kind of application for me to make things easier when I see a doctor. It seemed like we had a tenuous relationship, like there had always been some unspoken sexual tension there, and I was tempted to say something about it but didn't. A few "friends" started showing up, some I know and some I don't. Maura left and one of the friends handed me a bottle of vodka or something which I gladly hit hoping to reduce the physical pain, and handed it off. They'd been invited to a friend's house, someone I didn't know, and were eager to head off. I was invited out of what seemed like social obligation, bored, and left with them.
CUT (DAY): We were outside the friend's house and the crew was now about 7 strong. It was your typical horror-movie assembly of beautiful assholes. It was a plain, faded white, average-size two-floor house among many others. No one was answering the front door so we went around back and tried there, but still no answer. The lead guy was checking his cell phone and looking in windows. He said, "I know this is the house, I swear. This is it. I don't know where he is, but he said he'd be here." He quickly got impatient and kicked the back door in. My view cut like a camera to the inside where I saw the door come off its hinges and then very slowly fall flat, kicking up a huge cloud of dust and revealing our concerned-looking group peering inside carefully, then it cut back to my view again.
It looked like no one had been in there in years. It was a fully stocked house with all the basics, there were even two cats running around, and yet it had been unoccupied by humans for a long time. As soon as we walked in I got this foreboding feeling, like I could sense the presence of evil. Something was very wrong with this house.
(NIGHT) Everyone started partying, busting out the weed, the booze, smoking cigarettes, and I felt very excluded. No one shared anything and I was largely ignored. We sat down to watch a horror movie after a while. We all sat on the floor and I was leaned up against the wall. One of the pretty girls with us sat next to me with a smile and layed her head on my shoulder. By about an hour in she was much more cuddled close and I was getting a strong vibe so I kissed her on the neck and pulled her in tighter, and she immediately pulled back and said, "I don't want my friends to think something's going on when it's not." I stood up completely and said loudly, "No problem, absolutely nothing is going on here, now is it? It's all a joke." Immediately I thought, "I just messed up any chance I had with her. No chance now." I thought about it for a moment and realized that there was nothing to mess up, she was a dumb bitch more concerned with what people think of her than about a guy trying to be romantic and treat her right, so fuck her. I spent the next several hours following the crowd room to room. They'd start a movie and after a few minutes I'd realize I was by myself again. A rainstorm was building up outside, howling wind and pattering against windows. Eventually I gave up and started wandering the creepy, dark house, occasionally seeing one person who would actively avoid me.
I think at this point I probably woke up very briefly, because the dream got fuzzy and then when it became clear I was much more lucid. I walked into the room they were in and they all just gave me this look, like, "You again?" It was the final straw. I said aloud, calmly, "You know what? Fuck this." I pulled out a heavy caliber revolver and the girl's eyes went wide before I shot her in the forehead, blood and brain matter splattering the wall. Before the rest could really react fully I'd put a bullet in each of them. I thought, "How convenient, six people, six bullets." The other shots weren't as accurate so there were a couple people writhing around in pain. I reloaded and finished them off and walked out the kicked-down door into the rainstorm.
Once I got outside all hell broke loose, literally. It was as if it was destined, like the house was some kind of black-magic ritualistic catalyst to release Satan and I'd been the dupe who had been driven crazy by it. I had a funny thought when the ground opened up beyond me and a 1000 foot tall demon made of lava rose up with a roar. "Shoulda stuck with Maura Tierney." Then I woke up.
Man. Pretty intense, right?
I've been feeling like a paraiah lately. But it's more of a subtle thing. I see it in peoples' eyes and it doesn't need to be spoken. I'm broke, can't find work because I have no car. I catch interest from women and as soon as they find that out contact suddenly breaks off. I want it to not be that important because I can't do much about it right now, and people get that so they're not forthcoming with things, but that doesn't mean I'm not picking it up in a tangible way. People see me as a burden and I'm starting to feel like I'm homeless again, even though I'm not.
It was raining when I woke up. And just nasty outside. Grey. Cold. Ugly. It's the kind of morning where I wake up depressed, knowing winter is coming and my prospects are dimming.
As fucked up as this dream was, it was likely a good bit of catharsis.