unfinished dream ·
8 September 04

Actual physical pain through dreaming? It’s an interesting sensation, to actually feel, breathe and live in your dreams. You wake up wondering whether or not it happened, and if it did, why there’s no evidence of it.

I didn’t actually get to sleep until the early hours of the morning, and even then, by my count, I slept 3 to 4 hours. I guess this is fine for me, because it means I’ll fell pretty knackered today. I don’t normally feel this awake for so long unless I’m having a serious period of insomnia or I’ve had some coke.

One of the dreams I had was about coke. It was really mundane and average really. Some sort of mish mash recollection and collage of the times I’ve spent snorting charlie up my nostril, degrading the septum without obvious visual change. It starts off deep down, some more sensitive to others, and then you you’ll find your septum disappearing. It varies from person to person.

In the dream I was with Jordan and Paul. I can sense why I dreamt this, as Paul told me that J had snorted half a gram on his own. It was sort of funny to hear, as I just imagined J taking hold of a those really long vacuum hoses, and then attaching it to his, place the other open end into a big vat of cocaine, and then taking a deep breath through his nose. Taking the hose off his nose would reveal a massive white ring, like some sort of planetary discovery, that people and scientists would look at with wonder and point saying things like, “It’s majestic” or “I’ve never seen anything like it” with J the biggest, cheesiest grin on his face thinking “Come on bitches!”.

I just imagined J taking hold of a those really long vacuum hoses, and then attaching it to his, place the other open end into a big vat of cocaine, and then taking a deep breath through his nose.

Everyone had done their lines, and it was finally my turn. I had the DVD case on the pillow, with the snorter in my other hand. Well I say lines, but I seemed to have my lines turned into small mountains. I couldn’t be fucked cutting a line, so I tried to snort the mountain of coke and my nose kept blocking up.

The guys laughed, telling me to do it properly, but it didn’t matter to me so I kept trying. Eventually it was all up my nose and in my brain. I felt high, and I think we all did, except the dream was more lucid and hyper for a while. Things sped up and rushed, trailed and so on. It was a really intense feeling, that I swear I physically felt. I could feel the rush in my brain, I felt as though I held the snorter, I took my hit and that we were all somewhere doing this. Recollective sensations. It was really good.

My second, well the second dream I’ll write about was a lot different. I say write about because I had some very….personal and abstract dreams, dreams I can’t make sense of, but for which I felt every bloody sensation implied in it, and it drained my body of energy.

There were people upstairs, and I was told not to go downstairs late at night, because the psychotic father was downstairs and he would go mental. Curiosity got the better of me. It was all pretty dark, walking down the stairs was a struggle seeing as I couldn’t see anything, so I had to feel my way down. I got to the end of the stairs, and saw two doors. One was open, and lead to a store cupboard of sorts. The second door was just a normal door.