i've been sleeping on the floor these past few days. the dreams spin and swirl like no other. and memory has been reworking itself it's far beyond crazy.

stuff i remember.

:going to a battle of the bands type o thing at a very old disco in a very old mall. i come in time to witness two devo looking boys playing covers of the faint and me telling them to rock on.:

:off to the far away city dragging a trunk. while aragon-esque leads the way and a black cat ala salem pulls a trolley. we reach there despite several obstacles. dragons and villages on fire. and the city is an apartment. we were meant to go to level 4. but the lift goes down instead of up. and in the room, there are crabs. i cut a crab open to get its eggs and it then transfigures into a tabby cat. awesome.:

sound: lots of new music thanks to malcolm

: he taught me how to murder. with a knife. what type. how sharp. when. and how. and the school suddenly ablazed and everything was gloomy and everything was choatic. fire and flood. :

other nights i have dreamt about :

: a bowl of snakes. and close relatives dying. :

sound: the new pornographers

once

:her teeth was peeling into strips of pure white.:

once
:makeoutmedia.com splashed around into strips of red with horses for icons.:

and once
:everything was black and black and black and faces with no features.:

avoiding the internet past few days have been good.
people from sweden are nice. especially the no-wave ones.

sound: snowsuit*

some previous nights.
: was teaching english to a bunch of first graders. i made them create tiger masks out of paper plates and colour them in. some kids insisted they colour the faces pink and purple instead of orange. then i gave them grammar sheets and everything went well and i was happy. :

then last night
: i was stuck in uni doing essays on jewish literature. not very good. :

woke up and received an email from kid a who's reading on some jewish scholar. what the hey.

oh and the other night
: re-enactment of fairy tales. wizard of ox and willy wonka but in a dark swampy atmosphere.:

no i do not want to be psychoanalyzed.
thank you.

sound : julie doiron