Dream Journal Ultimate
Date: 2/28/2023
By incurableflame
It's the early-mid 90s. My dad is Tim Allen who was turned into a dog by a trickster god who wanted to teach Tim "a lesson" and to bring my parents together somehow. My dad had a prestigious job for a luxury perfume brand, like Dior, something to do with marketing or advertising, and was pretty high up. I was the only one who understood when he tried to speak, everyone else heard barks and growls. Eventually somehow my mom realised it's her husband and who turned him and demanded the trickster god turn him back to human. The trickster god was happy to oblige, at least the part about turning my dad human, but was so happy with our family's "performance" he offered to turn my dad into any hot famous celebrity of the 90s (when the dream was taking place). A lady worked as a kind of assistant on his behalf and sat behind a large copier/printer, like in an office, and offered to turn my dad into Leonardo DiCaprio or Brad Pitt. She was really excited but apparently she needed to print a picture of the chosen actor in order for the spell to work. I asked about what would happen if people on the street recognised my dad as a Hollywood actor, and their eerie resemblance (as he wouldn't just look like them, but also talk like them) the assistant told me not to worry "there are lookalikes and doppelgangers everywhere". When my mom refused to choose a Hollywood actor, the assistant decided on Leonardo DiCaprio herself. Predictively, her copy-printer was breaking down and wouldn't print. Assistant looked and me and sighed "technology these days, am I right?". My mother took this time to explain why she wants my dad back as the person he was, because she loves him just as he is. If he was Leonardo or Brad, he wouldn't be himself anymore, and she couldn't love him the same. It was a cute and ironically Disney family moment. Anyway the god of mischief (who wasn't there but heard everything) relented and my dad turned back into Tim Allen. Also my mom wasn't my irl mom, but some lady with black hair. During this whole drama (while mom was trying to figure out the dog and her missing husband) I already had a dog. A Great Pyrenees I think. I liked to spend time on my own, exploring the city/town we had just moved into. To my joy, I found a graveyard and went to check it out. It was late autumn and the sun was setting in the clear sky. As I wandered around, I came into this strange part of the cemetery where I saw feathers and avian body parts scattered around. In one of the bushes there was a nest and a dead bird sprawled over it. The place was full of dead birds, mourning doves specifically, and I was looking around trying to figure out what happened to them and why. Did someone shoot them? Well, as it turns out, this portion of the cemetery is "private land" and I was unknowingly trespassing. A young man with a shotgun comes yelling and charging at me, but it's immediately clear this man has a disability and his shotgun is out of ammo, which he throws away while chasing me off. My dog is off somewhere else. I get cornered near the cemetery gate by the man with downs syndrome who starts hitting me. My dog comes in barking but stays put when I tell him. The noise attracts the young man's father who comes over to diffuse the situation. He then brings me to his huge house so we can discuss what happened. I get in an argument with the boy's dad who believes I scared hiim, that I am the aggressor who pushed him to act out in self-defence. I explain that just because he has a disability doesn't mean a person can't be abusive (as the boy was smiling and staring at me while I argued), and insist I was assaulted without any provocation. The dad considers my point, but then argues that his son is a physically weak man and I couldn't have gotten genuinely hurt, that I'm making a big deal out of it. To demonstrate what he believes to be his son's hitting power, the dad starts hitting me himself and asks if that really hurt. He accused me of being weak and spoiled and raised "in the country" but I insisted I grew up in the city and have been through shit. I storm out of his mansion with my dog. I know he's afraid of a lawsuit, and now he's thinking of blaming my big dog, who is a sweet floofball and has an impeccable record of good behaviour from my neighbours. Later I ended up catching the man (the dad) in my house breaking shit (specifically my laptop) and putting some kind of foam substance all over my dog. When I saw that he broke in and what he was doing, he promptly left and I knew I would sue his ass. I looked at my big dog and how docile he was and wondered for a moment if he was "too much of a good boy" because he really should have attacked the intruder who was breaking shit, even if it's someone familiar. Anyways, I decide to deal with it later and instead clean up to get ready for my dad's return party, which also coincides with my (in dream) 18th birthday and the launch of a new fragrance. So it's a big deal and everyone is coming. When the first people start coming in and I'm handing out toys to some of their kids (some bright orange fox plushies), my dad comes over with a champagne glass in his hand and asks how I'm doing. I cheerfully say "I'm not well at all - I just smile through the pain!" He seems to think I'm joking or downplaying (even though I genuinely feel like crying any second) and leaves me to chat to other people. This part is where I realise there's an overlap between my dream and the first season of American Horror Story (Horror House), in that I'm Violet and have been this entire time. I was already with Tate, who is a ghost who can pass off as totally real living person, but apparently we haven't talked or hung out in a long time. It was due to some disagreement, and it's part of the reason I'm upset. I missed him and now that I was back home, I felt ready to give him a chance and get back together like we were before. I was hanging out at the party which was full of people now, a few men teased me about "where is my boyfriend". Eventually, having spent a sufficient time at the party that wouldn't give my parents an excuse to scold me for leaving early, I decided it was ok to go up to my room. Tate then arrived at the party dressed in black, like he was when he was shot by police in AHS. He asked people where I was and decided to wait for people to start leaving the party before going up to see me. While he waited he noticed lots of young couples together. He yawned and stretched his arms and said "I wish I had a date". There was a tall model girl near him with perfect beauty and long blond hair with braids and accessories and 60s themed aesthetic. She overheard Tate and said "I could be your date!" But he shook his head and coldly dismissed her "no, not you" and walked past her to go upstairs to see Violet (me). We spent some time talking and mending over things in my room. We both got emotional about our love for each other, although Tate still had his doubts about how I truly felt, how much I actually loved him. There was a shattered stained-glass window in my room that was somehow significant, like it was part of whatever happened the last time. I swore by every shattered piece of that stained glass that I loved Tate and that I'd rather die than live without him. Three pieces that were still hanging on the frame fell down, and Tate took that as a confirmation that I was genuine. He put his arms around me tightly and I could feel his thoughts about what I said - he would never let me die on his account, he would never leave. It was nice. But apparently our union attracts the attention of dark powers, they're drawn to us because we're "not supposed to be happy" and Tate is pessimistic about our future together. I remind him of this stained glass (which previously depicted a saint or/and was holy/sanctified or something) and encouraged him to believe that there were good forces too, and that's the reason why we're still okay. Tate liked that. We then did some kind of blood pact. I can't remember what it was exactly, but I saw Tate do something that completely changed my feelings for him, that I couldn't trust him. I think the blood he used wasn't his own, but I knew whose it was actually? I knew then Tate was evil and had to go away. Anyway, he spent the night with me. I gave my virginity to a ghost. There was this energy like we were newlyweds, or like Romeo and Juliet. He has changed after we had sex, changed for the better. His soul was pure and good now, but it was too late. He woke up at night to look for me, there were blood and guts all over the floor as I finished a spell to trap him. I turned on the lights and he cried out, realising what I had done. I was cold and cruel, and told him about what I found out about him, and he was so heartbroken and traumatised all he could do was scream and thrash around violently. My plan was to exorcise him and banish him to Hell or Purgatory, just away to another dimension where I would never see him again. He freaked out and called another ghost, a girl who was generally considered his ally, but who was actually in love with him. Objects were flying around my room because of the mystical energies. When she realised what I was doing, she went after me. I tried to hold her back by exposing her to her own reflection, because apparently that works. I got silver spoons, and then a small pocket mirror, but because I was an antique collector there was nothing that could reflect without distortion. So I grabbed a sanctified crucifix pendant I had hanging one corner of my room and pointed at her. She evidently didn't like that and was weakened by it. But for some reason, while she was weakened, I ended up chatting to her about a local psychedelic rock band I found locally and wondering if I should join them lmao.