My personal dream censors

Last night I watched this guy get his head cut off.

He was an innocent small town resident who somehow discovered a local cult.

Unfortunately, the (very secret) cult was the rest of the small town.

I remember wondering in my sleeping consciousness whether I would see any gore.

And the censors in my dream factory did a nice job, in the end. The poor guy did get his head cut off, but I didn't see it. I saw the suggestion of it: the raising of the sword, the swift stroke.

I woke immediately after that point in a room I hardly recognize.

I'm sleeping on my frameless futon these days, waiting for this weekend when we'll load boxes and furniture into a trailer.

Somewhere in that process, a home will emerge from the empty and cold place where I'm laying my head.

At least the potential is there.

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This page contains a single entry by Jeremy published on January 27, 1999 12:00 AM.

Parents was the previous entry in this blog.

A stout bit of encouragement is the next entry in this blog.

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