double vision, paralysis. no naked dreams, though.

"the boat? it's not a boat, it's the room. it's not a fish open your eyes but what's outside? it's water and it's black and there's a reflection rippling in the boat that's actually your bedroom. wake up. film over eyes, fishies biting rocket launcher is only a lamp. wake up. I can't I'm stuck the music is drowning me"

I've been finding lately a fun game in trying to adequately rope together (in words) the strangeness of a lingering dream, right after waking up. It's really does feel like I'm in some sort of poet's rodeo (not that I'm a poet, maybe I'm the clown?). This isn't the most nightmary of the nightmares, or the best-written thing ever, but it's the one you get to see, k?

Note the BMO (I believe) making a happily congruent appearance, happy considering I grabbed the nearest pen and paper I had around and it, uh... worked.