In this dream I was working, again, for a film of my friend T. We were working for a scene among bushes when things started going wrong; people started going missing and having nervous break-downs. A girl I knew that supposedly died in the script also vanished in reality, leaving behind a big, hairy penis. This object was not just hairy, it had fur growing on it in orange and white, bright and soft, and thinning towards its top. I collected this thing and put it in a box. Another girl was screaming for a phone to call somebody because she needed help.
Then we were at somebody's home and I was wondering where could the penis girl have gone. A lot of people were talking and arguing and laughing. The assistant director had an application in a paper lunch bag and asked me if I would like to apply for a job at a new film. She said that as far as she knew they were looking for a costume designer. I said I would think about it.
I was talking to the director among other people about the funeral of the dick girl, that now was E. I took the dick out of its case and licked it. I observed that small colorful flowers had started growing on its bright fur. As I stroked it gently they became more. Then E. showed up and I was happy to see that she was alive and dickless. The director was mockingly accusing her of having had a fight with the Tenenbaums. I got in a truck because I wanted to puke. My old friend G. was standing outside the window. I hid behind some clothes and tried to puke in a large, polystyrene cup but I couldn't because whatever it was that wanted out was not yet liquified enough to be able to pass through my throat.
Eventually I was working for T.again and we were at the airport. They had given me a small box with tea to keep and I had hidden it in the forest of my hair. I could see it as if it was in an underwater scenery, stuck on my head among humongous hair growth. An airport clerk with a special vacuum cleaner came near me to check me for illegal substances. I started waking towards the storage space. People were talking loudly and she kept coming closer. Then a great sculpture, made of clay, that was on a big truck came to life and pulled me towards it with its fat tentacles. It was a female figure with long curly hair, of the kind that mermaids usually have, a nice face and a big, fat body with too full breasts, sitting cross-legged on her tentacles. She was the leading actress of our new project and she started telling a story to the security-lady, about how her brother had made her legs dysfunctional and how she had gone through reconstructive surgery. She lifted her hair that were long enough to fall on her thighs and showed us long scars. Then she started screaming that her main-line vain had to be removed and that the doctors had to rebuilt her circulatory system with old needles that were now getting rusty inside her legs.
I woke up at that moment.
Then we were at somebody's home and I was wondering where could the penis girl have gone. A lot of people were talking and arguing and laughing. The assistant director had an application in a paper lunch bag and asked me if I would like to apply for a job at a new film. She said that as far as she knew they were looking for a costume designer. I said I would think about it.
I was talking to the director among other people about the funeral of the dick girl, that now was E. I took the dick out of its case and licked it. I observed that small colorful flowers had started growing on its bright fur. As I stroked it gently they became more. Then E. showed up and I was happy to see that she was alive and dickless. The director was mockingly accusing her of having had a fight with the Tenenbaums. I got in a truck because I wanted to puke. My old friend G. was standing outside the window. I hid behind some clothes and tried to puke in a large, polystyrene cup but I couldn't because whatever it was that wanted out was not yet liquified enough to be able to pass through my throat.
Eventually I was working for T.again and we were at the airport. They had given me a small box with tea to keep and I had hidden it in the forest of my hair. I could see it as if it was in an underwater scenery, stuck on my head among humongous hair growth. An airport clerk with a special vacuum cleaner came near me to check me for illegal substances. I started waking towards the storage space. People were talking loudly and she kept coming closer. Then a great sculpture, made of clay, that was on a big truck came to life and pulled me towards it with its fat tentacles. It was a female figure with long curly hair, of the kind that mermaids usually have, a nice face and a big, fat body with too full breasts, sitting cross-legged on her tentacles. She was the leading actress of our new project and she started telling a story to the security-lady, about how her brother had made her legs dysfunctional and how she had gone through reconstructive surgery. She lifted her hair that were long enough to fall on her thighs and showed us long scars. Then she started screaming that her main-line vain had to be removed and that the doctors had to rebuilt her circulatory system with old needles that were now getting rusty inside her legs.
I woke up at that moment.
