I remember having three distinct dreams but I woke up right after the second one, which I remembered then. Then I went back to sleep for another 1.5 hours, had a third dream and forgot the second one.
The third one is really gross, like it involved fecal matter. I think listening to a certain episode of DVDASA where Dave talked about some of his more disgusting bodily excretion fascinations got to me. I was in a bathroom, about 8 or 9 years old. (I am really warning you this is gross! I feel disgusting just retelling it in writing as if I actually did this.) I had torn off small sections of toilet paper, ready on the counter. I
Besides that was a small pile of q-tips. I had my underwear around my ankles, ass up in the air, pointed at the mirror, just above the counter. And with toilet paper in one hand, q-tip in the other, staring between my legs at the mirror to look at my asshole, I proceeded to watch myself plop out little shit nuggets. I would catch it with the toilet papered hand, drop it in the toilet next to me and dab around my asshole with the q-tip as if I was cleaning myself. It was very clean. I would be very careful not to get shit on the country or on my hand. I tried to be “surgical” with it. It was a weird fascination with the “process” of shitting and cleaning…
The second dream, I’ve forgotten.
The third dream I am in a darkly lit room. It had two long work wood bench and tables. In contrast the hardwood floor appeared clean and modern. It was still a dark color but it was done with such fine craftsmanship that it really contrasted with the table. Between the two tables on one side was a fireplace, unlit. Above it was a wall built up with small-ish stone/slate shards. Again, that contrasted quite a bit to the clean lines on the floor and with the structured yet worn tables. Above the fireplace was a TV.
There were two guys each sitting on a bench on each of the tables. One was around my age whom I had just met earlier that day in the dream. He was good looking but I really didn’t know a whole lot about him. The other was fat man K Smith. The two were intently staring at the TV, embroiled in some video game battle.
I stood a few feet from them watching for a while. Then I wanted to join in the game, feeling a little left out but I was very self conscious about my gaming skills. I started to speak to ask if I could play winner but stooped right after I uttered a barely audible sound. Fatman heard it and briefly twitched his head in my direction while his eyes were still locked on the TV. His gesture was meant as a question or concern for what I wanted with my slight utterance.
The young guy didn’t say anything or turn or move at all. I walked around the back of the tables so I wouldn’t cross their field of view and I went over to Fatman. He had a comic book spread out in front of him. I leaned over his shoulder to look at it. I just know the art was beautiful but do not remember what else I saw in that comic book.
Fatman occasionally pointed at certain frames, trying to show me things he liked, while playing the video game. I was just so interested in the art.