Dream #49

More Fragments of dreams, there were more than this but I can’t remember properly. There was one that was ‘on the tip of my tongue’ or should I say ‘on the end of my pencil’ for ages but it just wouldn’t come.

H was saying ‘he, he, he.’ In conversation with me. She had a new boyfriend. (My friend in real life, she does have a boyfriend, which is quite exciting as it’s not like her and she’s been single as long as I’ve known her.) Really it was a ‘she’ I found out through a third party, but for some reason, she didn’t want to tell me.

My mum buys me a fridge, except it’s not a fridge at first, it’s a BMW convertible, white with a white top, and I am annoyed, as I quite like my Rover, and thought it would be the Rover as a convertible. I guess my car had gotten smashed up and I just thought it would have a new top. Except then, it is in fact a fridge, with far more space in the top than my regular fridge. It slowly dawns on me how massive it is, and then I look up and see that the milk and stuff is inserted into the very top roof of the fridge, and I would really have to stand on a chair to get it down.

Then my dad, well he was not supposed to read my blog, but he had already, somehow. He finished a painting for me, I had cut out this sort of cardboard shape and he painted a woman on it, basically a vulva with very neatly trimmed pubes and a shapely leg. He had read my mind basically, it was everything I was sort of imagining when I cut the shape out, but could not paint it as well as he.

Then I was in a club, having sex with a guy.

(So much sex in my dreams, the next bit is the worst…)

I put a piece of cherry cake in my vagina and someone ate it out. The cherry cake. Out of my vagina. You know what I mean.

3 thoughts on “Dream #49

  1. Better in a dream than in reality – some dreams are too gooey. That is a word, I think. The car became a fridge.. well, white goods really. And mum is back, but this time dad as well. But they are more background this time. the club is the main story…and the morphing white goods. And the man meat I guess, only not yours – funny that bit sounded like it was not in the dream, but in real life. But that is just the way it reads. Or the way I read it or something.

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