i had an extremely long dream that was literally just: i enter the mirrorverse version of my own world. like all mirrorverse worlds, it is Sexy, but instead of being Sexy because of the mirror universe’s evil and flirtatious inhabitants, it’s Sexy because they never invented any fabrics except spandex.
i had a long and ridiculous dream that was also an entirely plausible episode of riverdale, read on for prophetic riverdale spoilers
part one was an enormous, elaborate, very high stakes grand jury trial investigating… jason’s death, but again, and this time archie was a suspect! after a lot of time where he said stupid anxious things while his dad patted him manfully on the shoulder, archie was cleared and the investigation was inconclusive.
cheryl was enraged by this, and in her known role as the third branch of law enforcement in riverdale, took matters into her own hands. first she broke into betty’s house, had a friendly conversation with betty about the two of them working together, and then, while betty was busy, climbed into her ceiling, entered the crawlspace above the bathroom, and then set a bathtub full of water on fire as a warning to betty about how cheryl would find the truth.
then she told reggie and archie to take some of her extremely flammable special Blossom Chemicals (???) to go find [random other people tangentially involved with jason’s death], who were currently at a “concert” (burning man, but in a deciduous forest), and to set their car on fire as a similar warning. archie and reggie decided the best way to achieve this would be to travel there by stolen school bus, while disguised as poorly-disguised undercover policemen. this part of the plan succeeded. however, they were unable to set the car on fire, because they fucked up the chemicals & also lack cheryl’s magical fire powers.
then i woke up
anyway that’s season 3
good things today:
while possessed, wandered into an ulta after my doctor appt today and bought new nail polishes for the first time in ~4 years: a pale/mannequin OPI pink to replace the bottle i broke; zoya river for me (it has a much stronger/more interesting color shift in person than in any of the swatches online imo, it gets almost purple; i was shocked to look it up and find out it’s not actually a subtle duochrome); & an OPI lavender creme polish for my roommate, who has decided he favors pastel cremes, which is great except i own like…. 3. MAYBE 3. 3 if we’re generous about “pastel”
i probably don’t have an upper respiratory infection
i’m really good at making fried fish actually
i had a long and elaborate and plot-heavy dream that was partly a weird stress dream except instead of foregrounding the stressful bits, it mainly focused on 1. me flirting with an imaginary person who was, in retrospect, kind of a dick 2. dream-me gently and patiently teaching my roommate to make pancakes, despite his tendency to add too much oil to the pan
scared of going to sleep bc i keep having nightmares about people physically violating my mental & bodily autonomy!
remembering dreams over and over, remembering dreams and having the same dream again
the dream with the tunnel under the buildings; in this one every time the entrances must be dug out of where they are hidden, in planters and under steps, opened only with the help of others because i don’t have the strength. in this one i eventually connect with two others enough for us to pull ourselves from the maze and save each other, but other people are left behind, and i wake before we reach a point of any real safety.
the dream with the terraces in layers of concrete, making a cliff down to the ocean; in which the only other figure was someone with whom i feel totally open and without fear, and the two of us were open to each other in ways we don’t need or want in real life but which in the dream reflected the ways we actually are at ease together.
the dream with the low open house full of sun with the door that opens to a beach: once, in this dream, i lay on the floor between two beds and the house was full of my friends, and one of them stood over me protectively and then fell on top of me full of bullets. the second time, in this dream, i lay on the floor between two beds and the house was full of my friends, and one of them came and sat beside me and stripped the packaging off my headphones with their teeth for me.
the dream with the clean all-white upholstery and the hotel bed where i hold someone and they tell me, slowly, stumblingly, how much they– and if i could, just for a moment, let them– and if i’d forgive them, if i’d allow them this desire even if i could never– and then i touch their face slowly and carefully, and then woke up in a hotel bed glowing for nearly ten minutes of selective amnesia in which i forget which things i am allowed to want
had an extended self-consistent dream in which i was in a ttrpg group in which all the other players were late-teens high school or first year college students (none real people to my knowledge) and in addition to playing i was acting as, basically, assistant to the GM, my favorite math teacher from high school. what this meant was that, as the other person in the room with extensive roleplay experience, i cued up appropriate music for entering the atmosphere of jupiter and helped set scenes and explain rules and so on.
the twist, however, was that we were playing WTF (wisher theurgist fatalist), but that i was the only one in the room, including the GM, who had ever actually read the rules or knew anything about the premise of WTF; everyone else i guess was just playing an exciting but not mechanically unnavigable fantasy + space exploration game. the entire arc of the dream was me excitedly waiting for the correct narrative opening for me to reveal to everyone that I, Too, Had The Powers Of The GM. this reveal, when it came, was surprising and triumphant and immediately thwarted by a visiting professor taking dramatically sick and causing several of the players to rush out of the room in terror of catching his illness.
in conclusion: i have been sent a divine omen that i should start playing tabletop games again, but only with people who understand disease transmission.
(here are two, one from last night and one that last night’s called back to. in the first, i was out in a metal boat with two people, real people. saltwater came in on every wave even though i knew it was a lake in the way that in real life i know where my hands are. one of us searched desperately for some kind of signal, radio or cell, vague because in my dreams i know even less about physics. i and the other sat in the back of the boat, idly trying to bail it out or contemplating future feelings of sunburn and not thinking about how as soon as we escaped everything would be over. the three of us had, in the boat, reached some kind of understanding; the two of us understood, as the signal-seeker perhaps did not, that our rescue would prevent our deaths but also any chance of us maintaining our collective intent. the nature of this intent varied, but it was intensely emotional and possibly romantic and involved a highly complex network of social connections and a plan for the armed overthrow of a medium-scale political power.
in the second dream, i sat with i someone i love at a wooden table in a kitchen full of sunlight. my hands were on the table. there was a small vase full of violets. they leaned across the table– i turned my head to theirs– they gently but firmly put their thumb over my mouth and pushed.)
52. Is your life anything like it was two years ago?
in several obvious respects yes– still in college at same college, still a bio major, still a lot of the same creative projects. at this time two years ago i was just starting to push relationships into being that are most of the important ones i now have. i lived functionally alone and i was sad and lonely and messy and crazy and sick all the time; now i’m just messy and crazy. two years ago my job was undoable and inescapable and i prayed to be fired, or if i couldn’t get fired then perhaps to be hit by a train. last week i said to my boss “i’m very frustrated with my slow pace at work, i think i’m not getting enough done” and he said “well, you’re producing more than you think, but anytime you’re hitting these roadblocks you should let me know and i can come troubleshoot it with you,” exactly as though i’m a real person whose problems deserve to be solved. this time two years ago i hadn’t come up with a couple of my big life problems yet, but i had far more, and i wanted to die all the time, and that was very bad, and this is much better.
all of the dreams i’ve had about my friends have also been dreams about buildings and spaces and architecture, because my true destiny is always to be a person who treats relationships as spaces. actually, edit: all of the dreams i have are dreams about buildings, spaces, and architecture, and what’s more i think this is a sign of immense personal virtue
must a sport be entertaining to watch? 