Thinking Aloud Maybe it's better that in the dream log I just offer dreams without any ruminations. More mysterious that way, no?
Mr. Hyde at Family Dollar
I'm milling around Family Dollar, writing on a notebook in pink lipstick -- except I haven't bought either the notebook or the lipstick yet. I have a big pile of stuff in a cart that I don't really want to buy. I start putting some of it in my purse. Then I have this moment of clarity like-- hey, wait a minute-- what am I doing? Then somehow the knowledge comes to me that I've been on a spree of stealing and other questionable activity for days and days, but totally blacked out and taken over by some other personality-- a real Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde situation. I drop the notebook and the lipstick, leave the other stuff in the cart and exit the store.
The Bad Kids
Next thing I know I'm all wrapped up with a group of people who reminded me of the ne'er do-well art students I hung out with right after high school. They dress in black leather. They always have very tough dogs and very improbably tender little woodland animals (bunnies and squirrels) on leashes with them. They roll up into my house with their little bunnies on leashes; put on pounding electronic music, then set up cameras to film themselves and me sleeping and having sex. They regard this not as pornography exactly but as an especially important art project. There's a sense of family around them, as if they all belong to each other. I have the feeling that whether I'm okay with it or not, they've adopted me into this family and consider me one of them. There's a big to-do about setting up the cameras just right on the tripods. I feel like I love them and I want them but I'm afraid of them and what they might end up doing to me as they carry an aura of violence.