Kink, Graffiti, and a Rabid Dog

My university has morphed to the size of a national park. I am running through nature in search of a secret hideout I have made to hide from my irl ex-lover Paul. In flight I ponder my mixed feelings for the kinky sex we share. On one hand, I fear and loathe having certain boundaries crossed by him. Yet despite leaving him several times, I still seek his particular brand of sexual pain. With him I experience a sense of utter surrender that I have found nowhere else in my life.

He finds me in the forest. I lay with him for a little bit….


I have painted something on a lecture hall chalkboard in the middle of the night. Later, I am confronted by Anya, one of my art professors, who very calmly asks me if I did it. She seems to be implying that it has been well received and people are curious to find the creator. I stand silent before her, weighing in one hand the prospect of fame-filled career and the other, the freedom of certain anonymity.

In real life, I have left university for about a month now, where I have been studying art. Instead of completing my final class required for the completion of my degree – not an art class, but a general ed requirement to be taken over the summer- I have run off with a stranger who offered me a life on the road. I have been living/loving in the desert for the past few weeks and we are now traveling north, having reached a major city in the northern area of my state. The person I have been traveling with espouses an artistic life that doesn’t revolve around commercialization and self-promotion as well as feeding into my life-long desire to live off the grid.


I go for a walk outside the van. A caramel colored little poodle is hunched over a carcass of some sort, eating.. i stop, and it turns to look at me ¬†with. It’s eyes are rabid. A moment passes, then it leaps on me and sinks in its teeth. I try to shake it off but can’t so I start screaming in attempt to scare it off.

In real life, I start screaming so Angel wakes me up. I don’t think I have ever screamed myself into waking reality before, which is something quite common for my father, who my mother and I frequently saved from rocky dreams.

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Feeling-experience and visual 7/3/17

Feeling: deep pain all throughout my chest/upper body, like I’ve been stabbed with several knives by somebody I love and trust, feeling lost/betrayed/abandoned.

Image: darkness all around, first thing I see is a hag with white hair, white and purple wings stretching out towards me, far off in the darkness, a small tomboy-looking child. The hag stretches towards me and I feel fearstruck, stuck in place.

Ghost Hands/Trip with a Lover

I am falling asleep in the van, in and out of consciousness. Angel is talking with Jerry just outside the vehicle, and I lie there uncertain if I should come out. At one point, I sit up. I look into my body and see my astral hands in perfect vision, but they are gray and ghostly, in a way that makes me fear I am decaying inside. After all, shouldn’t the astral body be full of light and rainbows or glittering to some degree? I conclude that I must be doing the wrong thing, coming on this trip…that I might, I must, be rotting myself from the inside out. Then Angel comes and shakes me and I feel better.

Flashes…I am in my parent’s new apartment, I hear someone calling for me, or perhaps a parent tells me someone is calling me. I step out into the balcony, look down and to the left, New Lover, someone I have never seen before, black male-assigned with long braids and a femme outfit is smiling and waving at me, beckoning me to come find him. I get my clothes on and run out to meet him. As we drive off, I put my feet up on the deck and he admires my platform mary janes while showing me his platformed heeled boots.