Tag Archive: dream

Random radio ramblings…

Woot, only three weeks between posts this time! And I’m prefacing this one with: this is strictly *fantasy* and I’m not planning on killing anyone. Contemplate that, folks. 😉

So, I listen to this morning show on the way to work each day, mostly because I’m a lazy bum about getting podcasts downloaded to the phone, and they’re funnyish. And this morning they were talking discussing a news article where a woman tried to kill her husband by poisoning her ‘undercarriage’.  I like ‘undercarriage’ because that may have been the *only* amusing line from the Dukes of Hazzard movie, which was all in all a perversion and tragedy rolled up in suckage; but I digress.

So, anyway, woman tries to poison husband through cunnilingus! Amusing and disturbing. Also, pretty damn stupid.

The radio hosts asked for callers to ‘for fun’ call in and describe how they would poison their spouses. A few were funny, but then the station static-ed out and I trailed off into my own ‘how I would poison’ fantasy land. *grins*

So, D, just in case you were wondering; yes, I have contemplated your death and how I would do it… poison would not be my first choice. But, if I were going that route, it would be the coffee.

You had to know that, right? It’d be easy and I’d be able to say that I had ‘just been in too much of a hurry’ to get my own before I left in the morning. And you’d know it was me… because let’s be honest, I’m not the ‘stab in the back’ kinda gal. I don’t do revenge or gossip or rumors and I’m more likely to tell you to your face that I think you’re a douche than anything else. Plus there’s that side of me that wants you to know it was me.

I don’t want you to think you’re having a heart attack or some stomach issue or what have you just before you die… I want you to be thinking about how I; your adoring, loving, slightly whacked out sweetie fucking killed you.

But hey, this is all just fantasy and weirdness that is my mind. *smiles*  OR IS IT?!

Caruso(the song)

Caruso written by Lucio Dalla

Dedicated to Enrico Caruso

Performed by Luciano Pavarotti

English Translation:

Here where the sea sparkles,
and a strong wind blows,
on an old terrace overlooking the gulf of Sorrento,
a man holds a little girl in his arms
after he’s been crying.
He clears his throat and sings the song again.

I love you so much;
so very much, you know.
It’s a bond, now,
you know, that thaws the blood in the veins.

He looked at the lights, out at sea,
and thought about the nights in America.
But they were only the lamps of fishing boats
and the white of wake.
He felt the pain of the music.
He got up from the piano,
but when he saw the moon come out from behind the clouds
death seemed sweeter to him.
He looked into the little girl’s eyes –
those eyes as green as the sea,
then suddenly a tear fell
and he thought he was drowning.

I love you so much;
so very much, you know.
It’s a bond, now,
you know, and it thaws the blood in the veins.

The power of opera!
where every drama is a sham;
where, with a little bit of make-up and mimicry,
you can become someone else.
But two eyes that look at you,
so close and so real,
make you forget the script,
confounding your thoughts.
And so everything became insignificant,
including the nights in America.
You look back and see your life
like the wake [of the boats].
Ah yes! Life is ending,
but he wasn’t worried about it any more.
Instead he felt happy
and began to sing the song again.

I love you so much;
so very much, you know.
It’s a bond, now,
you know, that thaws the blood in the veins.

Twisted Temple

So.  I’ve always had very, very vivid dreams. Bright, saturated colors, fine details, and an urgent immediacy to all the events, smells, sights, tastes, and the physical & emotional feelings.  Say I am dreaming that I’m on fire? I smell the smoke, choke, lungs screaming, have trouble breathing; feel the flames, my skin crisping and curling, cracking and splitting. I can smell myself cooking, feel the blood boiling under my skin, taste the ashes, every nerve shrieking, feel my throat breaking on my screams. Bathed in terror, searing heat. And time seems to slow. I have an extremely perverse and strong imagination.

Last night, I had one of my recurring nightmares. You know how when you’re dreaming sometimes you can’t see someone’s face, but you know exactly who they are? In this dream the beginning’s always the same… my ‘boyfriend’ meets me at my house,  it’s summer, I live out in the country, no close neighbors,  I’m sunbathing when he gets there… and then things are different every time I have the dream.  Sometimes we fight, sometimes not. Sometimes we sneak off and make love, sometimes not.  But at some point… he starts trying to kill me. Sometimes violently, sometimes quietly. Once he poisoned my drink, once he skinned me alive and left me to bleed to death. I have this dream 3-4 times a month. No set schedule… sometimes 3 days running,  sometimes a week or more in between instances. The one constant, the one thing that never changes? I never live. Sometimes I manage to kill him as I’m dying, but I never kill him and live.

Had that dream last night…  I died particularly violently this time. He slipped something in my drink that knocked me out and when I woke up, he had me tied up and proceeded to torture me for what seemed like forever.  Just laughing the whole time.  Knives, pinchers, red hot pokers, every clichéd little torture weapon there is out there. And when I quit screaming for him… he burned me alive.

And as if my psyche hadn’t felt I was tortured enough last night… Then I had a dream that everyone in my life that I cared about… family, friends, lovers, kids literally every one; had been taken, taken and stashed away in this weird religious enclave. And I had to make it through this twisted, torturous, maze of a temple to save them. Which is *not* a dream I’ve had before… but was very very frightening, frustrating, and I failed.  I failed to save them, and got to watch as they died… a few choice people pulled out of the crowd and killed individually. Then the rest, and the bodies of the ones already dead.. blown up in the temple.

I think it’s entirely possible my mind hates me.