sporadic dream journal

6:46am on Friday 7 October 2016:

In a car driven. By i believe sara mower is drivjng. Mynmom is next to driver seat. I feel we are pickjng up my sister from somewhere. im sitting in the back wr are giving a lift tona young couple. Guys is caucasian and fat wearing anstriped oversize polo reminds me of fatboy slim while hisnpartner is a toned petite woman from south asia. Long straight black hair very giggly. Both sit quiet while we go through that boulevard that passes by the hilton in amsterdam we are all silent and occasionally i take my phone out and take a sneaky picture. Im being mean, just want to record this for posterity because its really that prejudiced picture perfect of a girl looking too fine for a guy, a guy that wears too many Xs for someone that looks like a masseusse that barely speaks english and looks underage. He looks and feels blobby, he is sweating and infeel it because im squushed to the door. Im trying to take another sneaky pic of this cartoonish tableaux when he interrupts me and is asking me if im taking a picture of her. surprisingly he is not angry. His eyes remain the same, stale, not raising eyebrows, chunky lips wet, heavy breathing but more weight related thannemotionally driven. He sounded conformed like its been usual that people find it unbelievable that a guy like him is with someone like her. Immediate thoughts are this is a transaction, he paid her, she gets a visa, she is a victim, she is his slave. What if its the opposite, what if he is slave of his longing for love. His imability to conquer ? (Develop analogy) i say im taking photos of the scenery outside the window. He smiles and asks me what do i do. He knows i just finished my fine arts degree and really dont have any near future lifeplan. Guess this is him biting back. At least i have someone to cljng my arm to what do you do? Take pictures of us savouring some societal pun, maneuristic irony , for what? Who will be with you in your bed tonight? I reply to him sardonically that i think im an artist now, no bubble left to be in. Sarah mower overheard and says that her sister works in a bank and alsomhas nothing to say to her when they have dinner together because its all too abstract to get into. It could have also been catherime keener (pollock Movie lead actress) who was driving. I couldnt tell which celebrity, but it was a celebrity of the intellectual kind because i remember first feeling of the 

8:21am on Wednesday 7 September 2016:

I am the protagonist of a game where I play a thief. It’s a POV Splinter Cell look alike game. Mission is to infiltrate a highly secured facility and reach the vault to steal an object. A quarter into the game the security guards are coming after me. So it’s not only about being stealthy, it’s also about running as fast as I can and leaving a Jackie Chan like destruction path. Location seems to be a flat with a lot of tiny rooms, but this time I know the game is set for me to fail, unless I am fast enough and collaborate with another thief that I find in the vault. The other thief is a furry animal, perhaps a fox or a bunny. He is my rival, not archenemy, just a colleague. We decide to break out together. In one of the rooms there’s an open luggage laying on the floor next to the door. So the mechanics of the game are to run as fast as I can when the security guards come after us. This means going through a series of rooms in a speedy way leaving a trail of mess to delay the pursuers. We are now replaying this level. First time we succeeded in getting out with the furry partner, but he left you in the alley empty handed, so in the second time around I play trying to use the security guards to my advantage. I’m now in a room with the open suitcase, this is the segment where they call for back up. Instead of running to the vault I decide to do a u-turn and lock myself in the room. The guard is standing on the other side gun unlocked ready to shoot me once I let him in. In the suitcase theres the head of the dead boy from the movie The Grudge, the American version of Ju-On. I grab it and stand next to the wall. Arm stretched holding the boys head up and open the door. The guard freezes and screams out of horror puts his hands covering his ears. I feel an eureka moment, could I have just found a different way to play the game? There’s now hope that I will get away with what I was supposed to steal in this mission. But I get caught, the backup comes and grabs me, fade into black, game over, do you want to try again? I need to improve this new strategy. 

11:40am on Wednesday 3 August 2016:

Hugo Machado and a woman are in a seemingly deserted arid place. They say hello, they speak in a tribal language, they are by a water tank where translucent water bugs swim. They are eating fruit. They see an Electabuzz and he tells her it is a descendant of a chimpanzee with electric abilities. They seem to be in a safari. She says she feels they've met before. He smiles. He says the chimp is the closest we have to another species like us but they are not like us, chimps tried to be like us. The Electabuzz notices them but doesn't run away. It seems happy to see them. Then a sound comes from the jungle. There are murmurs and then suddenly we hear we must kill it. Electabuzz walks towards the trees and suddenly a crowd jumps out. They throw him a banana and for a moment there’s silence as Electabuzz picks it up contently and peels it. But he senses something is wrong and he immediately heads to the water. It is a river but it also looks like a cliff. Electabuzz jumps. The crowd follows. They have pickets and torches. Looks like a scene from Frankenstein, the movie. Moments earlier a flashback, the same man and woman were scientists. They had met in a laboratory while researching the mutations of the human DNA. She was his boss. It was a friendship that became intimate. Over the months they went to galas, dinner parties. They seemed to be in a constant courting session, powerplay, cat and mouse, a lot of eye seduction. As they grew closer, the couple started to show their true colours. She was suspicious something was not right with him. She developed a fear or insecurity, it all seemed too good to be true. He seemed too devoted, too loving. He must have been hiding something. Was he after her job, was he distracting her. She grew neurotic. She used to be a nervous kid, shy and reserved, a gifted student that aged imposing and fearsome. She was authoritarian without wanting to be, she was respected without trying hard. It was something about her face, grave, skinny, angular. But when with him she opened her pursed lips into wide smiles, laughter. She felt warmth she only had felt with scientific advancements and achievements. This wasn't work, this wasn't the code to human perfection, this was maybe love, this was purer, more radical than any genome. She was suspicious. She started to throw tantrums when they were in public. She would yell and hit him and she  would come back to cuddle him and care for the bruises. She started to resent him and wanting him more and more. He never moved an inch, he sat through every episode of her spiralling down. He was hopeful she would understand the purity of his feelings, they were sickeningly honest, it seems. He loved her, he loved every shade of her, when she pushed him away he felt even more needed by her. She was essential to him, she was allowing him to discover the greatest mutation he had come across. He wouldn't call it love because that was a page he tore away of a fiction novel. Another flashback: One night she was wearing a dress and a shawl, he was wearing a tuxedo. They were in an unlit room, perhaps home. It felt like they had just come back from a party. She is crying, her mascara running down her cheeks, lipstick smeared all over her mouth. She said she couldn’t believe in him that this would soon be over, she couldn't take this any longer. She takes out a gun and he freezes. He is somehow calm, silently assisting everything unfold. He seemed peaceful facing a gun. Maybe he was ready to die there, killed by his equal, ready to be put into a spiritual coven until one day she will come too, meeting him, reunited, no psychotic morals breaking them apart. Heaven is a gated liberal community he saw in movies, so they will be cherished and protected. He had come to terms to losing his life. She took his wallet out of his jacket pocket and rushed to the corridor. She threw the wallet up in the air and started shooting at it like target practice. In between tears and mumbling she burst into smiles of horror. It felt cathartic and the closest to killing him without a bloodshed, she was still a rational woman. Killing his leather goods, his capital, his coins, his driving license, it is all symbolic anyhow, death, death by proxy, delete a file. Splinters were flying as the shots were being fired. We watch this through her eyes, suddenly Hugo comes into the frame from the right, stands in front of her, she shoots again and it hits him on his right shoulder. This scene is in slow motion. And then we return to the beach scene. She greets him hello doctor and he says hello back. She is wearing raggedly clothes in shades of beige, while he wears a linen pant suit also in shades of beige. 

9:27am on Tuesday 7 June 2016:

I bought a group flight ticket to the seichelles with Jennifer Aniston in the party. She didn't come. I wandered around the airport looking for her. The airport was small, the lounge was electric blue, as if art directed by that french electronica group. The rest of the airport was orange sponsored by ING. I went outside and I was near a beach and a construction site. Or it seemed to be one, it could also be a building after an intense storm. Water was leaking from it. I filmed it and posted on Instagram. I was trying to tag Jennifer Aniston, I wondered if she had already arrived. Then I thought she had enough money to buy the ticket herself why did I do it, but I was feeling sorry for her. She had broken up with her boyfriend. I tried to send a group message on whatsapp to see what was going on, but my phone glitched. My messages say hey jenny I'm in the seichelles where are you? Are you here? But I realise I sent it to my family group. My cousin sends an excited message saying how great it is to be connected through another app. I am confused, we already talk through WeChat. It shows my mother typing something. I mute the app. I go back to Instagram, notice I haven't posted the small video I had made of water leaking from the construction site post storm. I miswrite seichelles. I find it hard to come up with a caption for Jennifer Aniston. I was disappointed and also had no time left because my flight back to mainland was almost there. Maybe that wasn't seichelles in the end. I get lost in the different levels of the airport. It’s evening now. I walk through a tunnel and I encounter a dark room. People sat in a circle. There is an old man talking about purification. I am told to clean a hunky guy with a wet towel. He is a Portuguese actor I've seen in old telenovelas. I go through his biceps, torso and back. He is in ecstasy not because of me. His eyes go backwards, arms raised. I tell him to turn around and I wipe his buttocks and go through his buff thighs. It sounds hot but I'm not turned on. I notice my old gay friend from high school is watching me. I feel powerful because I'm next to hot property and he is not. The shaman tells me to call my old friend's mum to come and pick him up because it's late. I do that and I also call someone to come and pick up the naked actor. I feel responsible for all of them and feel dutiful. I am still thinking of Jennifer Aniston but this feels familiar from her. I feel she knows what she is doing so I'm not that worried for her anymore. I get out of the room and I'm in a domestic hallway. I go to the front door because I hear the bell. I open the door and it’s a woman I can’t recognise. She comes to pick up my friend from high school. I talk to her. She makes me feel at ease, so I let her in. Behind her a man comes to pick up the actor. I also don't mind him so I also let him in. 

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