Date: 7/20/2017
By Fitful
These two dreams are set in the same place, but the second one happens farther along the timeline. Or it's an alternate time line. The first begins with a war ravaged world. It's utterly destroyed and what's left is patrolled by police who arrest you for any little thing, everyone is suspect to them and guilty on chance of suspicion. We, me and a large group of survives, huddle in a large house trying to keep unnoticed. Bombs have made this house hardly much to live in but it has rooms, beds, food. I find myself in meetings with my ex girlfriend Laura, her husband and new baby, along with a crowd of others. We plan how to keep safe from the police and take care of everyone here. I glare at the husband, unreasonably jealous. I wish he would go out there and get killed. I'm not sure why I hate him so, he seems likable. It's worse that he loves her and is likeable. It's worse because they seem happy. Laura is heavily pregnant. I'm often with her, helping her with it. He's nearby hovering but I'm the one she choose to help her. Until the baby is born. He becomes a fixture and I twist inside with jealousy. Then the police find us. They kill them both, along with everyone else, and I watch with horror as they behead the baby. As if it was tainted by being born to him, us, them. The second dream it plays out in the same house, the same world, but thus time Laura is missing. She's not here and occasionally I worry she is dead. We never had seen each other since we broke up year ago. I keep Imagining if I do see her I might kiss her, even tho it would be proper. I'm put in a room with my friends, or rather my things are put here. A blonde chick who I'm familiar with is very kind to me and we chat. I dice fruit which I kept in my stuff and it's frozen fruit by the time I'm done dicing. I soon find out these isn't a empty bed in this room for me. I wander off in search of someone to tell me which bed is mine. Days pass. I never do get assigned a bed, but I keep getting people acting bizarre to me. A lot of people tell me I'm special, I have the power to end this. It's all up to me. Oftentimes I'm shunned by people they think i'm weird. In the room where my stuff is someone finally wanders in to take my name down. The others in the room are quick to answer that I'm queer and give her my name. I'm a little irritated. I say so, perhaps what I say is a bit eloquent, loquacious. The girl says I'm so smart, and it doesn't seem a compliment. I get similar treatment from the rest of the group. The leaders of our little group soon are made aware of my skills. They defer to me a lot but also demand more. I'm set to building with the others and soon I find what I think happens. My hands touching mud thinking if death makes the mud deadly. Then thinking of sandstone makes the mud sandstone. It makes building easy. I spend hours building, days building. We are adding more rooms on to the house, the first thing they build was a theater, its almost finished. All that's left is blue painted floorboards. It's a very pretty room. I keep searching for someone to assign me a bed. It never happens. I never get a place to sleep. I'm told to sleep by the leader, she tells me to eat as well. Some guy is giving a lecture on rafts and how they can sink in the rapids if the plastic is damaged. People are nodding with agreement and making notes to check their rafts before they go on the water. The rafts are camouflage and I think the whole thing is silly. I stop them and begin to lecture myself, saying it's jot the raft at all but the belief in the raft. But they look at me uncomprehendingly and I give up. It seems Ive been here long enough to have embarrassing history stocked up. I had apparently had bad lesbian sex with a girl but it had ended before it got too awkward. I did conclude from it I preferred bad lesbian sex to sex with men, who didn't seem interesting to me at all. I ended up remembering this after trying again to get laid, this time with a dual dildo. It also didn't happen, I tuning I chickened out. I ended up having to walk back to the room where my stuff was with a dildo in my hand, and people saw it. The rooms were numbered, and the lettering was this pink crocheted doily letters. I kept giggling at it and talked to the blonde about how to get myself a bed in our room. I went to ask one of the leaders, and older woman, but she was getting frisky with a 22 year old Spanish man. I sighed and didn't bother her. As I was waking up I was thinking about the dream. And about dreaming in general. I had an image of a sleeping girl, naked and curled up around a plush, with ruffled panties with a large black bow on them. She had a chain which led from the vision of her to me and also to whomever I was talking to. She slept on a pillow cloud shaped vaguely like books.