Tokyo Damage Report


over my stomach flu.
Had a nightmare last night.
I was in a big (100 meters square), steamy, low-ceilinged roman bath, with wood walls and an intricately-patterened ceiling of what looked like acoustic tiles from a recording studio. the rear of the huge room was divided into individual two-meter-wide private units by walls which rose just above the level of the water. Each row of units were just a bit higher than the last row, forming a kind of amphitheater-like structure. I had been invited by some fat rich man who sat a couple of units over, with a young person ? a grandson? or something more sinister? he raised a glass in a toast to me.
I got creeped out so i climbed out of my unit and swam towards the front. Then, siezed by sudden inspiration, i dived UNDER the water. An entire world unfolded before my eyes ? the amphitheater CONTINUED underwater, going 100 meters deep at the front! in fact, 90% of the room was underwater, and it was all packed with celebreties! not swimming but standing on the bottom, holding drinks and schmoozing. It was like the Oscars down there. I swam past Gary Shandling and some other talk show hosts. I was the only one swimming. I went down the aisle, deeper and deeper, pausing to make way for Dennis Rodman, who, while seeming puzzled by my presence, nodded at me and continued walking up the aisle. I wanted to get close enough to the front/bottom to see what the celeberities were all looking at. Instead of a movie screen, the stage had a huge, 40-foot-tall light-bulb-shaped metal cage suspended by a ginormous chain from the ceiling. there was an albino octopus inside writhing. The whole ceremony started to seem less like the Underwater Oscars and more like some kind of Call of Cthluhlu shit, as the celebrities started to chant to it.
In the end, though, there were just too many tentacles. The octopus had 8 big ones, then 16 small ones, then seemed to just fall to pieces as the 200 tentacles broke free of the body and slipped through the bars of the cage. . . and they were not tentacles anymore. they were 15 foot long sperm cells, swimming towards us. Apparently, they (the sperms) had merely clumped themselves together in THE SHAPE OF THE CELEBRITIES’ ALBINO OCTOPUS GOD, in order to infiltrate the ceremony, trojan-horse-style. As they descended on the rioting, panic-stricken talk show hosts, I got scared and woke up.
Posted in Uncategorized, nightmares | 6 Comments ≫

No comments

No comments yet. Be the first.

Leave a reply