dreams: November 7, 1998
I'm having sex with a young man. His dick is in my hands. I'm pumping it with my hands, sucking the head with my mouth. Then we're having intercourse. He has his own special technique of jiggling around when he's locked into me. It feels good. He's suddenly on the brink of coming -- I stop him and say no, telling him he has to withdraw.
balancing, suburbia, and Will
NEXT, I'm balancing myself up on the side of a tall white brick wall. I'm in a large gymnasium, and water is below me, filling the whole place. It's being pumped up into various pipes and channels in the room. I start to feel a little shaky, since I'm so high up, precariously perched on a pipe. Then I'm walking down a wide quiet street with lots of big old trees and houses. It's autumn; orange and yellow leaves are in piles along the sides on the street and on the sidewalks. I'm in a suburb of Chicago. I wonder to myself why people live like this, in suburbs, in mundane cyclical lives? What is the point of their existence, to them? Then I walk into a small, open room of a public building. Gwyneth Paltrow is in front, on a low wooden stage. She's wearing old-fashioned (late 1800s) clothing and is giving a dramatic acting performance, looking very sorrowful. Then I see Will Macintosh. I'm excited to see him. We run up and hug each other -- a big, tight embrace of friendship.
- FIN -
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