Posts from — July 2009

(Female, 40′s) This is probably the saddest dream I’ve ever had, and I think it should count as a nightmare.

It was the end of the world. Everyone knew it– everything was shutting down. The government had fallen apart. There were no utilities– no lights or heat or water. There was chaos in the streets. There would soon be no food. It was like a war zone.

I was in my home with my husband and our two kids, our son and daughter– they were all a little younger than they are now. Somehow, earlier, for this situation, I had obtained from a pharmacy 4 suicide kits, and I had kept them until the last moment because we could either die together now or soon all die horrible deaths. We were all together in our living room, sitting on the floor, and I was busy doing what I always do– making sure everyone had what they needed, a drink of water, whatever. So I missed following the directions– there was a liquid to drink and then about 20 pills to swallow. My family members were already through the process when I was just starting. And I was confused– what do to first? But they were falling asleep in front of me, losing consciousness. They looked like they were peacefully asleep, but I knew they were each dead. And I wasn’t– not yet. It was so sad that they had all died without me.

I swallowed the liquid and the pills in some random order and waited. They were taking effect, but very slowly. I felt myself getting tired, and my arms and legs getting heavy. Some neighbors came in the house, looking for food. I told them, “Take whatever you want. We don’t need it. You can even have our house, if you want.” One of my neighbors had had cancer, I knew, and I thought how odd it was that she had outlived my healthy children. My veins felt tingly and I felt cold. I knew I just had to be patient and soon the drugs would take effect. I could hear people running and guns outside. I kept telling myself to relax. I just had to wait.

The ingeniously twisted artists at the collective known as “Bob Basset” have come up with another hand crafted Cthulhu mask. Reminds me a bit of wet folded origami. I’m still waiting for one with animatronic tentacles.

I feel debased to have to mention that Cthulhu is a character from H. P. Lovecraft’s eldritch horror and weird fiction universe. I suspect there are some who think this visage belongs to Davey Jones from The Pirates of the Caribbean movies. Sorry, thanks for playing. Personally, I preferred Davey’s earlier work with the Monkees.

http://bobbasset.com/?p=177

(Male, 30′s) This dream was going fine until the very end when something happened that continues to creep me out now I’m awake.

“…some kind of insect has attached itself to me…”

I was at some kind of cottage, maybe even a campground with a bunch of other people my age. I think we were all grownups, that is, I don’t think this was a youth summer camp but they were folks I recognized from high school, just all grown up, folks I don’t normally see. A group of us had been swimming in the lake which wasn’t the greatest place to swim. There were lots of leaves floating in it and it didn’t really feel like it had a sandy bottom, more like little bits of rotten leaves and things. Still it was the lake we had. It was a co-ed camp, men and women so we were splashing each other and I think we were all carrying drinks in glass stemware, like martini glasses.

We all got out of the lake and went into the shower room which was one big room with many individual showers each separated off with a curtain. I went in and started a shower and as I washed I could hear other people talking. For the most part, they were all talking about the wild sexual experiences they’d had. These were the people I’d gone to high school with, who’d lived their whole lives in the suburbs and they were talking about some pretty crazy stuff. I was by far the most innocent one there.

I get out of the shower and start to dry off and I realize that I am still wearing my bathing suit which is so stupid. Who showers with a bathing suit? And as I notice that fact, I also notice that some kind of insect has attached itself to me. It’s body is probably two inches across and it’s got sharp, beetle like claws. It was attached to my belly roughly four inches to the left hand side of my belly button. I touched it and it squirmed, still very much alive. It didn’t hurt, in fact, I couldn’t even feel it. On impulse, I grab it and yank it. It snaps apart leaving its head still buried in my skin. I’m thinking, “with all the scummy lake water, it’s sure to get infected.” The body of the bug that I held in my hand was still alive, its legs still twitching.

What else could the Grim Gnome do but grin when confronted with these statues of self-destructive garden gnomes? They depict scenes of grievous bodily harm, like an arrow skewering the head, a sword impaling the heart, swallowing the barrel of a handgun, all depicted with the maniacal glee one expects of a garden gnome. Collect ‘em all!

Morbid Gnomes

( Or http://www.amazon.co.uk/s?ie=UTF8&x=0&ref_=nb_ss_lp&y=0&field-keywords=dead%20gnome&url=search-alias%3Doutdoor )