Friday, May 21, 2004
Last night's drinks and dreams
Aside from getting a chance to catch up with one of my great friends from college, Pint Night was a bit of a let-down. That wasn't meant to be an insult to anyone who was there. It was just the general feel similar to the mood at Three Clubs last weekend. I shudder to think that The Snake Pit may have lost it's flare already, but maybe it has. Perhaps it's just the beer upon beer I feel obligated to have every time I'm there. You might say I'm tired of that. It's noticeably affected the way I perceive everyone around me and I'm sure that opposite is true as well. There are loyal supporters, to be sure, but there are also those who are quick to criticize; quick to call me a pessimist who can't share in their joy. This is about to get tangential but, I'm sorry, I can't share your joy in expensive, frivolous purchases if you're having trouble bouncing checks. But I guess that's me being a depressing pessimist; a nay-sayer. My ass. I didn't get too involved with that last night, but we'll save the rest for another time.
Anyway, back to the topic at hand. I'm ready to take a break from bars all-together. They just drain me of cash and almost immediately after leaving one the sensation of "fun" and "enjoyment" fade relatively quickly. Such a strain on my wallet. Tonight is Friday night and some friends plan on going dancing. I couldn't be less interested. It's odd, but I don't really even feel in the mood to go out at all. Saturday night, my friend Jeff is throwing a party. That's something I'll be at. But I don't know at all about tonight.
So last night, after the meh experience at Snake Pit, I had a series of bizarre dreams. The majority of which involved me being trapped or captive in some capacity. I think there's definitely a correlation between those dreams and what I was feeling last night, what still lingers today. One dream, in particular, was especially upsetting. My friends and I were shooting a short film and I was directing. For some reason, I chose to go scout a location in the swampy bayou. Alone. Who knows why. Soon enough, I'm immersed in the murky bog and I, within my dream, awake at the foot of a tree surrounded by swamp. I didn't know how I arrived there, but what was disturbing is that I was covered in a thick layer of webbing. Very cocoon-esque and also something that only the largest of gianormous arachnids could spin. The mega-spider is nowhere to be found, but I can sense it's ominous presence. Naturally, I panic. I rip off spider-web chains that have pinned some of my appendages to the tree bark. I break them all except for one. That one, for some ghastly reason, was attached to the back of my throat. And suddenly I realized I had mass amounts of webbing in my mouth and was unable to break free. Then, for some reason, that webbing hoisted me into the air. I flailed and tried to scream, but the silk muffled my cries. All the while, I knew this giant spider was near. I'm stuck in this precarious, life-threatening position for a while until I somehow manage to break free and proceed to run all the way back to my house, brush past my friends, and make my way to the sink to wash and scrape the webs out of my mouth. They had the taste of bad cotton-mouth. Disgusting.
If dreams mean anything at all, I imagine that the webs in my mouth were actually alcohol; imprisoning me and detaining me until I succumb to some grim fate such as the spider (or death/depression). And perhaps my being alone in this nightmare was indicative of reality as well. That one might be a little iffy, but just maybe its a true feeling and not me projecting. Such is why I'm feeling so bored with drinking now. This dream tells me that it has lost it's charm. My mind and mood last night and this morning are of the same inclination.
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Anyway, back to the topic at hand. I'm ready to take a break from bars all-together. They just drain me of cash and almost immediately after leaving one the sensation of "fun" and "enjoyment" fade relatively quickly. Such a strain on my wallet. Tonight is Friday night and some friends plan on going dancing. I couldn't be less interested. It's odd, but I don't really even feel in the mood to go out at all. Saturday night, my friend Jeff is throwing a party. That's something I'll be at. But I don't know at all about tonight.
So last night, after the meh experience at Snake Pit, I had a series of bizarre dreams. The majority of which involved me being trapped or captive in some capacity. I think there's definitely a correlation between those dreams and what I was feeling last night, what still lingers today. One dream, in particular, was especially upsetting. My friends and I were shooting a short film and I was directing. For some reason, I chose to go scout a location in the swampy bayou. Alone. Who knows why. Soon enough, I'm immersed in the murky bog and I, within my dream, awake at the foot of a tree surrounded by swamp. I didn't know how I arrived there, but what was disturbing is that I was covered in a thick layer of webbing. Very cocoon-esque and also something that only the largest of gianormous arachnids could spin. The mega-spider is nowhere to be found, but I can sense it's ominous presence. Naturally, I panic. I rip off spider-web chains that have pinned some of my appendages to the tree bark. I break them all except for one. That one, for some ghastly reason, was attached to the back of my throat. And suddenly I realized I had mass amounts of webbing in my mouth and was unable to break free. Then, for some reason, that webbing hoisted me into the air. I flailed and tried to scream, but the silk muffled my cries. All the while, I knew this giant spider was near. I'm stuck in this precarious, life-threatening position for a while until I somehow manage to break free and proceed to run all the way back to my house, brush past my friends, and make my way to the sink to wash and scrape the webs out of my mouth. They had the taste of bad cotton-mouth. Disgusting.
If dreams mean anything at all, I imagine that the webs in my mouth were actually alcohol; imprisoning me and detaining me until I succumb to some grim fate such as the spider (or death/depression). And perhaps my being alone in this nightmare was indicative of reality as well. That one might be a little iffy, but just maybe its a true feeling and not me projecting. Such is why I'm feeling so bored with drinking now. This dream tells me that it has lost it's charm. My mind and mood last night and this morning are of the same inclination.
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