In Dreams

Before I went to sleep, I read Orcs and wrote some stuff down in my notebook for a map of mine. The last thing I had was a cup of tea and a mint biscuit. I tried to WILD but fell asleep too fast.

In some sort of clothes designer’s studio with some well dressed staff, I and another guy are challenged to a drinking contest of sorts. They fill three shot glasses with a liquid that looks like scotch and gave one to me, one to the other guy and one to a model with very frizzy hair. The aim is to drink it and last the longest without panicking for some reason. I outlast the model and my “friend”, the latter diving out a window while the former runs out the door.

My memory is fuzzy at this point but somehow I end up clinging to my friend who is hanging outside the windows, climbing them. We pass a clown on the phone who has taken a shower but kept the makeup on, two mafia guys arguing and finally a woman that pushes us off the wall.

We’re back in the studio when someone mentions that there’s a trip to Zombie Island coming up. Some fat guy with glasses offers a thousand pounds to come, I can only offer five hundred. So I go to speak with the guy organizing it in a crowded street. The fat guy comes too. The organizer is very tall and seems to be a floating large suit in a crowded street of businessmen, none of whom find this unusual. He reminds me of the Slenderman. I look at his reflection then look back and he is there. Shorter now, his overall appearance seems to be a cross between Montgomery Flange from the Mighty Boosh and some English aristocrat. He says Zombie Island is leaving via steamship.

Back at the studio again, before the trip to Zombie Island, I am turning green in the mirror and apply makeup so I don’t look like a zombie. However, I get into an argument with a makeup artist and turn myself blue but decide to leave anyway.

I woke up after this, too early, and decided to try MILDing. It might have been a false awakening. Either way, MILD didn’t take.