Faux Fu

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

River of Black Snakes

I usually don't try to puzzle out my dreams. They are usually so strange and surreal, no good through-line. Usually plot-less. They are like really bad art films. Abstract, fractured. Very French.

UN-HOLLYWOOD.

Often times I wake up scratching my head. WTF? "Who made this pretentious piece of shit?"

Last night it was all pretty clear. More like a Monte Hellman kind of thing. I was on a river, the river was a highway, I was leading a caravan of people - swimming ahead of the pack, I was the scout. And there were BLACK SNAKES everywhere. I was evading them, wrestling with them, trying to clear the way.

The river was filled with BLACK SNAKES and it was my job to clear them!

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