Dream 1
I was in a bedroom, half of which was more like an empty, sheet metal-walled warehouse. The bedroom part was bedroom-sized, and the warehouse part was warehouse-sized. There were five or six couches close together, heaped and draped with disheveled blankets. At first I sat on the floor, legs folded lazily under me.
My friend R, somewhere, possibly walking behind the couches, said how when he had gone out last night with some of our mutual friends from college, that BMC had (to R's delight) played out some personal joke to the point where everybody was yelling at him to shut up.
I thought this was funny at first. But then I realized that I hadn't been told anything about our friends planing to hang out. In fact, R had asked me earlier in the day if I had any plans for later on. I had told him no. He asked me if I could, then, stay home (to watch his dog?) and I said yes. So he had tricked me to stay at home instead of going out with our friends.
R was now sitting on a couch, covered in some blankets. I told him, "You know you did that to me! You asshole!" R just sneered and chuckled and didn't look at me, as if he didn't have to.
I told him, "Don't ever do that again or you'll regret it."
R said, "I'll never regret anything."
I got right in R's face (although now he was something like a sort of pretty woman dressed as a Monty Python parody of an old woman) and I pointed at "him" and yelled, "I'll punch you in your face! I'll bust your goddamn eyes! I'll do it right now! You deserve it right now!"
"He" still didn't even look at me. "He" said, ""You'll regret that, if you do that."
I screamed and pulled "him" off the couch. It was like I was mostly grabbing blankets. Then I threw some naked person onto the ground. It was like a face-down version of me. But it "was" "R's mom."
I yelled, as if screaming in R's ear, that I was going to fuck his mom now that I had kicked his ass. I had flipped the person over. It was now something like a headless version of a boy or a girl. But in some sense it was a beautiful woman about my age. I straddled the "woman" (who I think was now facing down again).
The room was all living room now. It was small and bright, with one couch and one TV.
I hesitated over penetrating the "woman," going into her vagina as she lay stomach down with her legs closed. The tip of my penis hurt. I felt like I had warm goo all over me from my inner thighs up to my bellybutton. Then I had an orgasm. I pulled myself out I sat at the "woman's" feet. There were two stomach-down bodies now. I was in between them.
Now some black and white photo of a red-haired, crew-cut, redneck-looking bully appeared before me. A voice asked me something about my violent behavior. It compared me to (Eminem?) and said the name strangely.
I was still feeling the joyless euphoria of orgasm, which also contained some undertones of a savage blood lust. It was like I was a murderous animal listening to the seemingly meaningless speech of a human.
The voice repeated the name again and again. As it did I became more and more aware of myself. Something in the photo changed as well, as if an invisible camera swipe were slowly being lowered over it. I thought the photo would take on color. But it stayed black and white.
The more the name repeated, the more aware of myself I became, the more I was ashamed of what I had done. But I also felt more and more of a surge toward orgasm again -- once again, no pleasure, just that insect-like euphoria.
Now I was fully aware, almost as if I had woken from a dream, and I ejaculated, almost terrified that now I'd never be able to change who I was.
