my dreams are sweeter than an apple pie
Jul. 16th, 2008 03:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phthalombrage At my old elementary-middle-high school in Florida, ants are raining down from the blue covered walkways. I am running after my brother and a group of his friends. The bugs are crawling in my hair; I brush them off so they can't crawl inside my face. We stop at the end of the bus loop near a clump of saw palmettos, almost at the scummy lake with the lily pads, the fountain and the alligator behind chain link, and my brother's friend, the illustrious Sebas, the one who shits rainbows and got some magical film internship with Tim Burton through some people his podiatrist knows, is punching my brother in the face until he's black and blue and pretty much dead. The other people are just standing there, absolutely frozen. "Don't you see what's going on?" I ask, exasperated. No response. "Can't somebody punch Sebastian?" No response. So I punch Sebas in the face a few times until I draw blood, wipe my hand off on my jeans, and lay my brother out on the concrete so I can see if he's still breathing.
His friends do kind of use him. And their movies are sometimes gory. But that was ridiculous.
I forgot most of this one because it was nicer.
I do remember being at another Massachusetts mall with Mary and my mom, and a rainstorm hitting. The gales played with our umbrellas. Then I'm in Oakland, somehow, at dusk or so, carrying my laptop. These thugs approach me, pointing a gun, and I hand over the computer. They walk away laughing, because they didn't expect it to be so easy. Then I chase after them, scream "dammit, I need that for school!", retrieve it, and leave them astonished. It was humorous, in that dream-me was just kind of mugged by incompetent muggers sort of way.
Then other things happened, but I forget what they were.
His friends do kind of use him. And their movies are sometimes gory. But that was ridiculous.
I forgot most of this one because it was nicer.
I do remember being at another Massachusetts mall with Mary and my mom, and a rainstorm hitting. The gales played with our umbrellas. Then I'm in Oakland, somehow, at dusk or so, carrying my laptop. These thugs approach me, pointing a gun, and I hand over the computer. They walk away laughing, because they didn't expect it to be so easy. Then I chase after them, scream "dammit, I need that for school!", retrieve it, and leave them astonished. It was humorous, in that dream-me was just kind of mugged by incompetent muggers sort of way.
Then other things happened, but I forget what they were.
