In Dreams

I can't sleep lately. Not well at least. As it gets closer and closer to the time that I go home for Christmas my dreams are getting more and more frightening. My latest and most vivid dream involves a bear.

If I understand correctly most bears are not really all that big. (by "all that big" I mean smaller than a gorilla.) In my dream that bear that chases me is pretty small and kinda nimble. Like he lumbers and kinda stomps, but still is able to navigate the halls of my church without doing any lasting damage to the walls or floors.

Oh, yes! This dream takes place in my church on a particularly crowded day. The sanctuary and the annex are both full. I start in the sanctuary in a bit of a daze. I haven't actually listened to a sermon in church in the last 9 or 10 years. Suddenly the bear bursts through the front door and starts calling my name. Yes, the bear talks. When I see the bear I, like every one else in the church, scream loudly and start running.

Now I mentioned that the bear was nimble, but still lumbered. Well he didn't really do either one of those at this point in the dream. He just kinda came crashing through all of the people trying to get to me. It was a massacre. Truly horrible. Not at all worthy of writing about here.

Eventually I made my way to the back of the church, which for some reason was completely empty. I ran into the bathroom to try to hide. The bear found me almost immediately and then began to say some things to me. I can't remember what it said, but I do remember that I felt an overwhelming urge to get away.

So I did.

I ran out the door of the bathroom and down the hall. I could hear the bear's loud steps and heavy breathing behind me. I crashed through a door at the end of the hall and saw my father and a group of men having dinner, and then I woke up.

I actually had that dream a few nights ago. It seemed much more horrible then.

Dreams are supposed to mean some thing, right?

Well I've been trying to figure out what this dream means and I have reached a conclusion. I think the dream is just stress. *tada!*

When I go home for Christmas I want to tell my family that I am gay. I know some people think that is impossible for your parents to not already know that you're gay. I think that is some crap. A dismissed suspicion does not constitute explicit knowledge. I think my parents may have dismissed the suspicion a few times.

Once after finding some pictures of me cupping a guy's ass and staring seductively into a camera my dad asked if I was gay. I was 16 and did the only thing that I knew how to do well back then. I lied. I claimed we were just playing and that I had just taken the pictures so that no one else would see them. He bought it and that crisis was averted. What bothers me about that incident is the way that my father asked me about it. My father is a big man. He exudes a very large presence whenever he is in the room.

When he asked me he seemed very small. He quietly called me into his room and all but whispered that he had found the pictures in my car. He seemed really disturbed and worried.

I am afraid that my family will not respond well to my announcement. Actually I am pretty sure that they are going to scream and force me to pray. I don't want to do that, but I can probably deal with it. I was raised in the church so that kinda stuff feels normal for me.

I am most worried about their long term reactions. My uncle on my father's side of the family is an alcoholic war veteran and he has drug and alcohol induced schizophrenia or something . My father loves him (i think) but loathes his presence. Whenever my uncle is around my father is constantly commenting on the fact that he is not married, never has owned a house, or how he can't seem to keep a job. My dad believes that if you're not married you are not a real man.

I really don't want that turned on me. I don't want to eventually take my uncles place at family gatherings.

Money, Money. Money

I hate money. Hate it. If I never saw money again it would be too soon.

I paid for my flight to America yesterday and now I'm broke. Well not completely broke. I have just enough money to go to work and eat spaghetti or ramen until payday. I am not happy. Actually I feel quite sad.

Being sad makes me tired which is why I probably passed out on my bed immediately after eating my spaghetti last night. I think I may have been snoring loudly cause my roommate came and shut my door.

Speaking of my roommate, she is sick. I don't think she is gonna die or anything, but I can feel her coughing through the floor. She sounds like a semi-truck that will not start.


So much money. I can't even get my thoughts together.

Peace at Last

My friend, Jolo, came to visit me recently. Well he didn't come just to visit me, but he did sleep at my apartment...

I'm kinda sleepy and feeling really scatter-brained. Jolo came to visit from Australia. He lived in Japan for about 11 months last year and for like 7 of those months he was my neighbor. He is a really good guy. Actually he takes some getting used to. He has a really strong personality and his brain-to-mouth filter is severely underdeveloped.

He stayed at my place for the last five days and now he is gone. I feel free. Which is different for me. I remember when Peanut stayed with me and how I got all choked up and had to kinda jog through the train station to avoid letting my emotions get the best of me. ( I eventually had a light breakdown on the train.) When he left I felt like the last person who could link me to my home was leaving me.

Jolo was different. I could only think of all of the sleep I could get now.

It was fun having him here, but now peace is so sweet.

On the Train

Recently, last night actually, I realized a few things:

First, it seems that I am almost always thinking about sex. It's not problematic or anything. If I catch myself having one of those thoughts I usually can beat myself into shape quickly. (pun intended)

Second, this is probably the only reason why I am writing at all right now. I realized that I am still afraid of being alone in the dark. I thought that I had gotten over this fear but I was wrong. I scare myself so easily. It is really tragic. Sounds, shapes, the sound of my own breathing can send me cowering under the cover like a frightened six year old. Just last night I imagined that the black border on my closet door was slowly coming at my face. I had to touch it to prove myself wrong.

Well that is it. I actually realized a few more things, but just now I realized that writing a bunch of pointless realizations is pointless... and I'm tired of writing.

I have a dream.

Actually I have a nightmare.

I dream (Does one dream a nightmare or simply flee it?) that I am in my apartment looking out the window. The light is normal for autumn in the city. Nice, bright, warm. There is a slight chill in the air. The kind of chill you only recognize if you happen to find yourself in a shadow.

It is a nice day... maybe a Thursday.

Suddenly I hear rumbling and I see birds suddenly fly up off in the distance. The rumbling gets louder and louder and then I see it. The city is rolling. The buildings are actually going up and down and crashing into each other. The rumbling and the rolling gets closer and closer to my building. I am horrified but at the same time spell bound by the sheer beauty of it.

Nature claiming this city that man has built.

I think I die in that nightmare. I never find out because I always wake up and check the view from my window. There will actually be a large earthquake here in the near-ish future. The Tokai Earthquake. It is supposed to happen every 25 to 50 years and it is actually about 30 years late. Maybe more. They say that when the earthquake finally comes Fuji will erupt or that Fuji will erupt and then the earthquake will come. At any rate the two will be linked and I will flee the country as quickly as I can.

I have no desire to die surrounded by rubble under the cover of a volcanic night. No thank you.

Dead Fantasy

Yesterday I saw grass and mountains. Lots of it. And trees. Not planted by the city in straight lines to make the street look pretty trees. Trees that just happened. Trees that looked happy.


I think I need to leave the city more often.

I know there are all kinds of Barbies. From Malibu to Holiday. But, I never thought I’d see a Poop and Scoop Barbie.
Yes, there is now a Barbie whose dog, Tanner, takes a crap. The dolls come with a handful (no pun intended) of little plastic turds that Tanner pinches off and that Barbie can scoop up and put in a waste can. I’m not sure if this is supposed to teach kids to be polite and pick up after their doggie make s a doodie or if it’s to teach young people that body functions are a natural part of life.
Probably not the latter, otherwise it would have been BM Barbie and her dream house would finally be equipped with plumbing.
And a good thing, too. Because you know that from there it would be just one small step to Nocturnal Emission Ken and a slippery slope (again, no pun intended) to Bloody Discharge Barbie.
Next thing you know, the adult toy industry would want their piece of the consumer pie.
And what better way grab a slice than with a Barbie that serves edible pie? Cream Pie Barbie will come (pun intended) with Cunnilingus Ken, who eats Barbie’s plastic gash and accepts her creamy flow into a special internal receptacle where the liquid is recycled and stored for use until the roles are reversed. (Deep Throat Barbie and Skull Fuck Ken…finally Ken will ship with something in his britches).
Their fluids will transfer from one to the other and back again. As many times as you want! Talk about the cycle of life!
Skull Fuck Ken can also come with a gay modification to match him up with and anally take the loads of other Kens. Afterwards, you can hook him up with Barbie’s former man and, voila!, old straight Cunnilingus Ken becomes Felching Ken.
Naturally, Felching Ken also easily adapts as Rim Job Ken or Scat Whore Ken.
Before you know it, there will be endless combinations of Barbies and Kens pooping and eating and sucking and rimming and trimming. (Throw Tanner in the mix and it’s a BM/bestiality field day!)
After all, they say there is nothing that Barbie can’t (an apparently won’t) do. Who am I to poop on her dreams?

from LargeTony.com, poop and scoop barbie