Ancestry. Incest Tree.

Date: 2/12/2022

My family was a pack of conjurers, conmen, thieves, entertainers, mercenaries, etc. I know because they lured girls into their private hotel, took their stuff, and made them one of them? Or just swindled them. I'm not sure. Maybe I'd been one of them - the swindled girls- as I remember one of my cousins lackeys taking a purse off a girl. I tried to keep it's contents to myself, maybe sneak it back to her. I pulled out something to tide them over, purses were always fair game. But it was a little mermaid doll, Ariel. I had no face, the face was black, flat, like it had been smeared blank in Photoshop. It had the normal shocking red hair though. My father was a man I admired. He worked hard, ran the business, was brilliant. He was a writer. Somehow his writing was conflated with the job, the business, his book was the family business. Maybe it escaped the book? Anyway a lot of people were sleeping with people they didn't belong with and made no sense. Like the author didn't know his own characters wouldn't do that, but wrote it anyway for salaciousness. Even I slept with him once, and later - years and years later - when we lay in bed as habitual lovers do, it felt odd. He felt like my father, and there was no attraction, it was just empty. Familial connection. I didn't know why I was there. Why I ever had been there. Except it had been written, so it happened. I lay there, doing exactly what I was supposed to do, per the written plot, though the feeling was empty, and HE said stop. I stopped. I'd been following the script, it confused me why he was upset. I didn't understand what guilt was. He felt it, was lost in it, but I didn't know what it was or why it existed. He was upset about Maggy Rae, a character he wrote about. He had to kill her off, he'd been planning it for ages. He didn't want to. He'd grown attached. I told him sometimes characters did what they wanted to do. I told him about how two of my characters went rouge and got together instead of dying. I was a writer too, that was true, in my most recent book. However, it was just a comfort. I knew the momentum behind his planning would win out, plot would win out. I was giving empty platitudes. With the same feeling like the incest was wrong, I felt Maggy Rae had to die. In my book the characters won that themselves, in his books he made the rules. There was lots of rain. Throughout the whole dream it rained, a torrent outside. It was so much rain we turned the rain into a spell. We used it as a TV, a conjured space, some younger boys threw trash into a deep abyss they conjured from the dark and rain. I was mad because I was stuck at a cousins house, without any of my stuff. I could walk out into the rain, go get it, but I'd get really wet. The rain was very heavy. Even running next door, I'd be soaked. That cousin had some kids I was forced to be around. I didn't like the little boy, he was irritating. There was something like a phone tree. You entered into it by text and you had to, everyone did. Hearts were expected. Be the first person to say something and get the first heart. It was conflated with magic somehow. You were better by being involved. Better in family social standing, better at magic, better emotionally involved, just seen as good within the family. Failed to be part of the phone tree quickly and you weren't. All throughout the dream I was with people sexually that didn't make it good or take care of me. Not before or after. I hated it. I wanted the care that came after. But it never came. I realized that's why it wasn't good. No scene ever began and ended, it just was a tepid sex that hurt and was boring. And they didn't care to begin, nor say when it ended. And I experienced once a real proper scene, with aftercare, and I was hurt because I realized how careless everyone had been with me prior. And I wished I could have the careful way only. Also, flashes throughout the dream to a man trying to get into a very posh room where I was. He didn't look normal, like an elf or a vampire or Igor. Just thin, pale, gaunt, and classy like an artisocrat. Arrogant noble air, and tall pointy ears. But less like some LOR elf and more like an evil creature. He was trying to get into the room to have sex with me. Each time he tried I resisted. I didn't do anything consciously. The door was open a crack, he was there. I never stopped the door, never did anything but stand there and refuse him and panic and pace but each time he asked and tried and I said no, magic grew in me. Despite that I didn't have it, things, objects, began to move on their own. Things flashed when I felt threatened. Finally he did get into the room. He wasn't attractive, he just looked like he was. The air that clung to him was gross and sinister. And he finally was in the room. I backed away and didn't do much but bluster. All this part of the dream was done in silence. I remember hearing no noise at all, like a silent movie.