Dream: Punkopalypse
Nov. 15th, 2016 12:14 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
garoteI dreamed I was a member of a gang of violent anarchist punks. We had a disturbing lifestyle:
We would pick a house in a suburban area at random, then storm into it all at once. If anyone was inside we would take kill them, then spend the next few days completely destroying the house, with whatever large tools or objects we could find on-site.
I spent most of the dream swinging a very heavy axe at the walls, digging huge furrows in the plaster, punching out sheetrock, severing wires and insulation. As I went from room to room I saw my fellow gang members doing the same thing.
Eventually I wandered into a living room lit by a row of bay windows. Yellow slanted sunbeams fell on dusty brown carpet, strewn with shattered objects and soiled laundry and mud and lint. A bunch of people were sitting in a ragged line around a table, upon which stood a woman.
The woman was one of my crew, a punk wearing denim and chrome rivets, with a short bleached haircut. She was in the middle of saying something sarcastic to the audience, who were a bunch of outsiders and victims from previous home invasions, all feeling Stockholm syndrome and wanting to join our gang, or barring that, just please this commanding and amazingly dressed woman. As she was saying her phrase I recognized it as a quote from The Goon Show, or perhaps some other equally obscure media, and I completed the last few words of the phrase out loud with her.
This was apparently such an impressive display of parallel thinking that it stunned us both into silence. The woman looked at me, I turned to look at her, and I said "okay, fine," as though I was surrendering to the situation and our sudden connection. I dropped my hammer - no longer an axe - onto the floor where it made a resonating thud as though it weighed 80 pounds. I stepped up onto the table. We faced each other and began kissing passionately, in front of the assembled group. They were too confused to interrupt. Plus it definitely wasn't the most taboo thing they'd seen recently because our gang had probably murdered all their friends.
Just as it was getting really intense, I woke up.
We would pick a house in a suburban area at random, then storm into it all at once. If anyone was inside we would take kill them, then spend the next few days completely destroying the house, with whatever large tools or objects we could find on-site.
I spent most of the dream swinging a very heavy axe at the walls, digging huge furrows in the plaster, punching out sheetrock, severing wires and insulation. As I went from room to room I saw my fellow gang members doing the same thing.
Eventually I wandered into a living room lit by a row of bay windows. Yellow slanted sunbeams fell on dusty brown carpet, strewn with shattered objects and soiled laundry and mud and lint. A bunch of people were sitting in a ragged line around a table, upon which stood a woman.
The woman was one of my crew, a punk wearing denim and chrome rivets, with a short bleached haircut. She was in the middle of saying something sarcastic to the audience, who were a bunch of outsiders and victims from previous home invasions, all feeling Stockholm syndrome and wanting to join our gang, or barring that, just please this commanding and amazingly dressed woman. As she was saying her phrase I recognized it as a quote from The Goon Show, or perhaps some other equally obscure media, and I completed the last few words of the phrase out loud with her.
This was apparently such an impressive display of parallel thinking that it stunned us both into silence. The woman looked at me, I turned to look at her, and I said "okay, fine," as though I was surrendering to the situation and our sudden connection. I dropped my hammer - no longer an axe - onto the floor where it made a resonating thud as though it weighed 80 pounds. I stepped up onto the table. We faced each other and began kissing passionately, in front of the assembled group. They were too confused to interrupt. Plus it definitely wasn't the most taboo thing they'd seen recently because our gang had probably murdered all their friends.
Just as it was getting really intense, I woke up.
