i woke up in cold sweat today. cold mostly due to the dank and dreary weather around here lately, and sweat due to a crazy ass dream which was lucid in my mind as i wake up just now. i initially intended to document said dream in a post, but it would take me between a short story and a full fledged novel-chapter to describe, so i decided against it. if i did, though, i would title it 'the shit rug'.
in the dream, our protagonist goes through a series of events, starting in a midwestern-esque barn setting, which leads to a conflict with a childhood friend and controversy with the 'locals'. at some point, the protagonist flees the scene (after which there is no integration or follow-up of the childhood friend character (which is a pity since there was significant character development beforehand), or the locals; and enters a new scene - that of my home front lawn. in this new setting, we find ourselves at the climax as well as the end of the story, with the elements of a group of (unimportant) persons, one of them them a sacraficial peon; a vampire-chupacabra-scary-ass-monster-thingy which is taking a dump (yeah -_-); a few gunshots; and the apparent recycling of said shit into a rug, which is then presented to me as a peace offering (not even sure where and when i entered the dream, since before this i was a third person narrator).
the fact that it made sense, at least at the time, is again the theme of this post. now i'm sitting here at 5am going what. the. frick. stupid dreams. and i emphasise that the vampire thing was one scary mofo, enough to make me wake up with heart racing about 120 bpm.
the shit rug. coming to cinemas near you.