Death Hotel

I had a dream that I was walking up a street in Halifax with a couple of friends. It was after midnight and we were on our way to some downtown bar to catch a live band.

I happened to walk past where my car was parked. A cop was standing there. It looked like she was getting ready to write out a ticket.

I went right up to her and said, "Hey, what's going on?"

The cop pointed at my car. "I'm writing you a ticket. You're blocking the driveway," she said. "You're lucky I don't have it towed."

I bent over sideways and checked out the back bumper of my car. My bumper was sticking out maybe a half-inch past where the curb sloped down. The driveway in question was very wide. My car certainly wasn't blocking anything.

I stood up and stared straight at the cop until she looked up from her notepad. Then I slowly opened my mouth.

A bunch of spiders came rushing out of my mouth. Lots of spiders. Dozens and dozens of spiders.

Black ones, brown ones, big ones, little ones, with furry little bodies and wriggly legs. Hundreds of spiders. They poured out of my mouth and fell down onto the ground, landing in a big squirmy pool at my feet before scurrying off in all directions across the sidewalk.

A few of the spiders ran straight for the cop and climbed up onto her shoes. She exclaimed in disgust and tried to shake them off her feet and brush them off with her notepad. She backed away into the street and started freaking out a little bit.

My friends and I thought all of this was really funny. The cop, not so much.

Posted by philip at 02:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I dreamed I was wanted for murder. It was self-defence, but I knew no one would believe me, so I was running.

I saw the cops pull up to the front of the building and I ran out the back. I was running as hard and as fast as I could. I could feel my pores start to prickle with sweat.

These prickles became more intense as I ran. Pretty soon they were starting to burn. With every step I struggled to breathe as my flesh became hotter and hotter.

All the skin started to peel off my face and my arms. My bones were orange and red.

Then I was lying on a hammock in a submarine. There was a table beside the hammock and I was playing cards with a couple of the guys.

There was a TV on in the background. The news was coming on. I was scared shitless because I knew they would be all over the story of the murder.

There was lots of background noise in the room. The guys didn't seem to be paying too much attention to the TV. I badly wanted to shut off the TV or change the channel, but I knew if I got up to do so I would only wind up drawing attention to it.

So I kept playing cards, and I tried to act as nonchalant as possible, and I prayed no one would notice me on TV.

Posted by philip at 11:23 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

The prison has just opened and none of the inmates have arrived yet.

In the dream I'm part of a small group that is touring the facility. The warden shows us a room with a hot tub and a spa. Then he says "You might like this" and leads me into a room with a fully-equipped recording studio.

The scene changes and I'm standing in front of a countertop making a sandwich. What I remember most is the vivid red of the plastic wrapper on the loaf of bread.

The wrapper is open and pieces of bread are spilling out onto the counter. I'm holding five or six pieces of bread in my left hand. I'm spreading Dijon mustard on each of the slices, one by one.

All around the room are shelves full of loaves of bread in their bright red plastic bags.

Posted by philip at 05:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I threw my coat on the bed in the hope that it would hide what was underneath the bed.

They're threatening me. They say if I don't confess they'll kill me and make it look like a suicide.

I am not I repeat NOT suicidal.

Posted by philip at 10:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I dreamed I was swinging by my legs from a trapeze. I was all alone in a huge circus tent. Back and forth, back and forth. Swinging.

Suddenly a huge spotlight came on and it was shining right in my eyes. I tried to shield my eyes with my hand as I swung upside-down. I shouted "Who the fuck is that? I'm just dicking around."

No one answered.

A bunch of Italian mobsters drove right into the circus tent and got out of their fancy cars. They proceeded to have a big mafia meeting right in the middle of the three rings.

I hung upside-down above them and listened in. They didn't realize I was up there. I heard every word.

Posted by philip at 07:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)