dreams: June 9, 1998
a bizarre party
I'm in a small interesting house that has these hideaway backrooms -- the kind that you can't tell exist until you open the doors (looking like closets) and find whole other wings and rooms. I or someone I know is renting out one of the rooms as a place to live. I go through some of the doors and rooms to get to my goal destination. I now know that it's the rented room of a male friend; it's small, with couches, a bed, a desk. The guy wants me in a way that I don't want him. The walls are made of a thick canvas material. I open a flap and stick my head out. Mark D'O. is below, looking up at me (though I'm only on the first or second story, so he seems only a few feet away). He has a big smile on his face, drawing attention to his teeth. "Guess what?" he asks. I say I don't know. He tells me it's his birthday. "Happy birthday," I say. Then he's gone, and I'm just looking out at the neighborhood to my left. The colors around me are brilliantly sharp and bright, covering a rainbow spectrum. Clouds, sky, balloons, houses, cars, etc. I feel like I should be happy because of the colors, but I'm not. I look out to my right. An older man is across the street, shaking out a rug; he's big and barefoot, with dark hair & a beard, wearing shorts. He looks familiar, and I realize he's an actor at the Shakespeare Festival. There's a woman out in the yard next door to his house. The sky looks dark grey on my right. I pull my head back into the room. Now a party is happening. A family owns the house. A bunch of their friends (whom I know) are here. People are sitting around the room talking. Two people are lying on the bed together; they're a couple. I don't know them. The man's name is Mark. He has shoulder-length curly hair. He tells me that it's his birthday today. I'm sitting on a couch. A young boy (of the family owning the house) is on my left. Another couple walks in the door. The first thing the guy says is that it's his birthday. The boy next to me starts crying. His mom is sitting on another couch in front of us. She's holding a young baby girl. The mom has long straight hair that's pulled back; she reminds me of Linda, down on 3rd Street. She quickly jumps up to console her son when she sees him crying, roughly dropping her baby on the floor. The baby starts crying. I pick her up and hold her against me in comfort; she stops crying. I realize that the boy started crying because the last couple entered the room with too much noise and roughness. I like holding the baby. She's kind of golden and feels good in my arms. I like being maternal to her. Now I'm in a different part of the house where the party consists of people my age. It feels wild and fun. I realize that I'm now 21 years old, an age with new privileges. One of the things I can now do is eat sugar legally. I crave it. I see lots of desserts all over the room. I'm with a friend, and we both need to find a safe place to put our stuff (jackets and purses), since we just arrived. I young woman is showing us some potential spots -- she's the host. She's leading us through back rooms; we're in quiet, empty areas without other people. There are bins of cookies, candy, and crackers. The host says that this'll probably be a safe spot for our belongings. She pulls out a long table that rolls out of a hidden place in the wall (like a drawer). It has tons of foods that are all dry: buttery Ritz crackers, Oreo cookies, nuts, etc. My friend tucks her purse into a nook on the table. The host starts to roll the table back into the wall, but I tell her to wait, grabbing a few chocolate-covered malt balls first. They taste good. Then I'm in a special room for a game/contest. It's all about sex. Someone is explaining the rules. We watch a video as part of the explanation; it has quickly-moving black & white images that look like birds in the sky, along with flashing numbers. Suddenly I'm lying on the floor under someone else. We're both naked. "He" is thrusting his hips. Now I feel him inside me. We're having sex in a typical missionary position. I'm still seeing and hearing the rules being explained as we do it. We can get certain scores. It's like a video game, and we are trying to reach the top score (10?) by having the right rhythm and combination of movements in order to peak at the best moment. I'm moving my hips too. We're being evaluated, watched by the other people. I can't see my partner who's on top of me; I can only see his/her back, almost from the top. It's fleshy, with the rolls of loose fat jiggling and bouncing with every thrust. I know that part of the game is about defying gender roles. I'm hoping it will end soon. We finish and get a mediocre score (6 or something).
- FIN -
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