* The Sandman's Dream Journal o/***

Having It and Giving It Up

I was with a beautiful girl. She may have been J. M., my high school heart throb, though she looked a little different.

I was sucking the side of her breast and rubbing her stomach. It was heavenly. Her breast was salty. This was OK in my dream, and tasting is generally good in a dream for me.

I asked if she wanted me to stop and she said yes, so I stopped. I was sad...obviously.

An alarm then went off and a DC turned it off for me. I was grateful.


Leaving My Brother

My brother was on a motorcycle with my boy as a passenger, and I was riding on the back the way kids ride bicycles--standing on to pegs sticking out from the back wheels. It was extremely awkward and I told my brother I was just going to walk the rest of the way. I had only a tinge of distaste for him.

Everyone started walking at this point. We ended up in Downtown. It was all cement and didn't seem clean. It was dark as though we were under a walkway or something.

We started walking down a hill of cement and I saw my cat. I/we were letting her go there but I wasn't happy about it. At the street, buses were stopping and pulling away. I saw a tour bus pull out right next to an old style Marta bus. The noise was awful and a bit odd. I wanted to record the bus noises and use it in some music or something.

We then started trying to find exactly how to get where we were going. We never really did figure it out, and searching was a bit uncomfortable.

Man in the Canoe

I was on the computer. I saw a page of images with a girl. I selected the one I wanted and watched a video. It was of the girl masterbating.

Pictures in the Fog

It was night time. I was in the army or something--at least some commander type was ordering me to come with him. I told him I would be there in a minute as I had to get my shoes. He kept urging me. I finally convinced him I needed literally one minute to get my shoes. He said OK.

Dream Skip

It was still very dark. I walked along a path to a small bridge over a creek that led to a small lake. It was very foggy. The scene made a great picture, and I took a few.

I was then at another such bridge and took similar pictures feeling fortunate that I had the opportunity to take these pictures.

I started walking along the path when up from behind us came a Mustang. I identified it as such, then a DC identified it more specifically, I think as a Spitfire, which I realize is not a Mustang.

I agreed that it was that, but then asked how he could tell. Before he could answer, the Mustang started coming up the trail towards us, but now it was a motorcycle. As it came up to us, I noticed that the front was built out as a motorcycle, but the back had a bicycle tire.

The End