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Killer Pizza

After a very long time, the journal I sent out a year and a half ago for books_journal has found it's way back. It's gone off to the last person on the list at the moment. When it comes back again, I'm going to take pictures of it and then open it up to be sent back out because there's still lots of blank pages. I was really happy to see it last night, and I'm excited to get some pictures and hopefully get it filled out some more. If you want to participate, go over to books_journal this entry and leave a comment.

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I had a very bizarre dream this morning. I didn't sleep well last night, and so I ended mini-sleeping a bit this morning and that's where I get all my wackiest dreams. Anyhow, in the dream, I was working for a politician. Played in the dream by one mister Timothy Hutton. (Too much Leverage I assume.) There was some minor side-story in the dream about a wedding for an old high school friend, and some one who also worked for the same politician as me being in love with the groom, but I digress. The main part of the dream was that this politician was single, and haunted by the loss of his wife years earlier. Now, as I worked for him, I started spending more and more time at his house, and discovered that he was an avid reader of a serial killer series by some dude with an Italian name. My dream self had read these novels and wondered what he found so interesting about them. Also, I thought that the guy on the cover of the novels resembled the politician/employer, but dismissed it as pure coincidence.

Well, the more I worked for this guy, the more I learned about his wife, and what had happened to her/how she'd died. And everyone that I talked to said that there was some great inheritance that she was supposed to have left behind, but that he had never gotten it, or found it, or something. Then, on the anniversary of her death, the same night as the wedding I'd been to, I came back to the house to find my employer curled up on the sofa watching old movies. And thinking him asleep, or in some sort of fugue, the guy that kept the house (some sort of butler dude) was rifling through the house looking for the supposed inheritance. For some reason I'm unsure of, my dream self didn't want to take down the bad guy myself, so I sat in the living room instead, hoping to help my employer to catch him. He was not as inattentive as I'd though, for I found him already arranging pillows on the sofa to look like he'd fallen asleep, and he shushed me and directed me to sit and pretend I was watching the television.

Then, he caught the bad guy, but instead of calling the police, I learned that he was indeed the killer written about in the books he kept. He chopped up the bad guy and made him into a large rectangular pizza, even offering me a slice. I wasn't afraid, and he had no plans of killing me. Instead we laughed and chatted while he cooked and I eventually I went back into the living room and watched the rest of The Incredibles on TV.

I gotta say, I'd rather have weird and complex dreams like this than the ones I've been having lately where people die or leave and I end up crying in my sleep. I had one the other night where my grandmother was mad enough at me that she refused to talk to me, and I knew she was close to death, and it just tore me apart that she wouldn't talk to me. And for the life of me, I didn't know what I'd done or how to fix it. It was awful.

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( 1 felicitation — Felicitate Me )
to_paraphrase
Dec. 30th, 2008 02:15 am (UTC)
i am so jealous your traveling journal made it back to you! mine's been out there for like five years or so. i think it's gone for good (which makes me sad because a dude i have a super huge internet crush on did an entry - would have made my nerdy heart skip a beat). :)
( 1 felicitation — Felicitate Me )