was far too fucked up for me NOT to blog about. I’m going to warn you though, you might think I’m some sort of psychotic, perverted closet Nazi, animal-mutilation fetishist after reading this. But rest assured, I am not.
The earliest part of the dream that I can recall included me sitting at a bar with who I think might have been a female friend, but I’m not so certain of this person’s gender or sexual orientation. Ben might have made an appearance at this bar, because I recall him being in the dream, but it might have been at an earlier part that I don’t remember. Either way, he spoke to me briefly about Morgan and mp3s. Anyway, back to my ambiguous friend…this friend and I were sitting at the bar, and around the bar was a large dormitory-like room. There were lofted beds every few feet that were all occupied with various people reading and lounging. My friend and I were placing bets on who out of these people we thought would be publically fucking someone before the end of the night.
I don’t remember who bet on whom, but I do recall a young homosexual couple engaging in some heavy petting on one of the top bunks nearby. I raised an eyebrow at them and at my friend, but I don’t recall what the friend said. I just remember them huddling real close to me and whispering things about the individuals involved, things that I can’t recall. The last part of the dream, which is the part that I remember most vividly, seemed like it was half graphic novel, half realistic. The weirdest shit happened…
I dreamt that there was a one-legged woman (think along the lines of Rose McGowan in Planet Terror, except minus the machine gun appendage) working as an officer for the Waffen-SS in Nazi Germany. The year must have been sometime in the 1930s, except everything looked fairly modern. Anyway, this woman was going by the name of Eva. ….You can probably see where this is going. She was a vixen. She wore a tight, military green mini-skirt dress. She had dark hair that was worn in an up-do, and she walked with a bit of a hop, seeing as she had a peg in her missing right leg socket. Nevertheless, I watched her walk down a dock toward what I assumed to be Hitler’s estate. It was nighttime. The dock, which was lined with gentleman SS officers, was connected to the estate, which was sprawling. Several stories high, and very wide. It looked like a giant hotel. I recall watching the male officers watching Eva intently as she made her way towards the building. They were relatively attractive looking men, who hooted and made cat calls at her, but she just passed all of them by.
That’s when I noticed a most sinister, sickly looking man, who I assumed to be Adolf Hitler himself. He was standing amongst the other officers on the wharf. He wore a black robe, pale skin and some very odd glasses. There was no signature mustache or hat, but I could just sense it was him. He reeked of psychosis. I watched his face curl up at the sight of her as she walked by. It seemed like he was wondering where she was going, while at the same time, knowing exactly where. As I and the other officers watched, he began to follow her right inside. I followed suit in a narrative sort of way, I guess. He got ahead of her and went up to this private suite. It was at this point that I stopped 3rd-person observing and I became Eva.
I remember getting a message that the Fuhrer was waiting for me in his private suite. I knew exactly what was going to happen, but for some reason I didn’t or couldn’t stop it, nor did I know how. I just went along with it. I remember pushing open the large, deep mahogany doors and walking into a very spacious, well-kept hotel room. The walls and carpet were pristine white, and large glass windows spanned the entirety of the suite. There was a bathroom immediately to the left. I ducked inside of it. I could hear him on the bed saying things to me like “Come on, come on, come on..” just over and over in an urgent voice. Then I noticed that the bathroom wasn’t very private…a huge glass window spanned the entire bedroom-facing wall of the bathroom. He could see me, and I could see him. He was perched on the end of the bed, still fully clothed, but legs spread apart. He was squeezing out a rag into a bucket on the floor between his feet….or at least I perceived it to be a rag…. At this point, I noticed that I suddenly had to urinate. So I pulled down the bottom portion of my (Eva’s) dress, and tried to stoop over what was the strangest looking toilet I had ever seen. It was wooden and triangular, and you had to pee through a tiny chevron-shaped opening at the edge between the toilet seat cover and the toilet bowl.
Meanwhile, the Fuhrer was in the other room uttering all sorts of odd things, partially to himself and partially to me. A lot of it sounded like manic grunting, but the majority of it was him very distinctively urging me to hurry up. I tried to use this toilet for what seemed like an eternity. I knew I was stalling, but I legitimately did have to pee. Without flushing (I don’t think that toilet even had a flush mechanism..) I fixed up and went into the bedroom. He was laughing and going on about how excited he was for this to be his first sexual encounter. He mentioned something to me about a game that he wanted to play with me that I probably wouldn’t like. I’m sorry, this just gets weirder, but I am not making this ridiculous shit up.
There was a little Dalmatian puppy strapped to a table not far from the bed. The next thing I knew, Hitler was explaining to me the most sadistic game…I don’t’ recall the details, but something about him wanting me to watch him slice the puppy’s eyeballs until I couldn’t watch anymore, at which point I was, according to him, supposed to be so aroused that..I assume I would acquiesce into having sex with him or something. I felt like a cheap whore. But luckily….that isn’t quite what happened. I remember him donning a large butcher’s knife and restraining the puppy. At this point, I think I might have been strapped to a chair that was positioned in front of a window, because the moment he started gouging the puppy, I remember immediately propelling myself backwards and shattering through the adjacent window with my skull. An attempt to wake up, I’m certain.
All I remember after that was glass flying everywhere, and falling…just falling. I think there might have been a lit pool or courtyard below. I don’t remember the events immediately following my escape, or what the impact was like. But apparently my dream-self survived it, because I recall sitting in the same hotel suite again a few moments later as myself (not Eva). This time I was sitting with my brother. We were watching TV, and I was asking him if he knew about Hitler’s mistress. And he just said “Oh yeah, Eva..” and I woke up.
I’m not going to dwell on the imagery or implications of this dream too much, because afterall… it was only a dream. But I do find it odd, but nowhere near as disturbing as the dream I mentioned a few days ago. That one involved me having a vicious, psychotic stalker who had hired a hit-man to take me out, and then watching two of my loved ones get fatally shot in front of me. That brief synopsis is not even doing it justice. It was a bone-chilling dream.
On today’s agenda…eat something yummy, perhaps watch a pirated copy of Star Trek for the 4th time…aaand…go to my aunt’s house, go out driving with my mum. I might also canoodle with Joyce and Jessica later when they get in town this evening?? ^^