I wish I could type in charts.
The Pineapple House plus Cat's Eye Corner plus the artsy part of a micropolis-
that was the place in my dream. It was the same familiar but off- colour world that recurs in my sleeping fantasies. Usually, there's disaster in dreams in this alternate reality. Usually, water. Sometimes family.
I don't remember. There are pieces.
-a new home, ecstatic to find spacious and interesting grounds
-hills, old metal playgrounds, garden...
-I discover that I live in a house in a public space
-exploring and little twat calling me down
-pipes, something about pipes
-a house across the street selling laundry or some shit like that
-lady waves from center upstairs window(A frame)
I figured it out. I can say whatever the hell I want because I'm talking to myself here.
I mean, if you look at the memes from last month you would think I knew that already.
Before it was me not caring, but now I'm confirmed unfiltered. So to test this new form of freedom, I say:
I like switchblades. Sexually. And your mother is the filthy orc-bitch alphawhore of her precious Fido's dreams.
Bothered? Disturbed? Good.