we all of us decided that we would dream to-night
i'm in the court of louis the fourteenth. versailles has just been completed, and he's holding a masquerade ball to celebrate the occasion. i'm very sad because i don't have a mask, but i go anyway. when i get there, however (i can fly - paris is beautiful at night even now), i am relieved to see that everyone at the ball is wearing a dog mask of some sort, and as i have the face of a poodle naturally, i'm certain i will be able to fit in as long as i am careful not to lick myself too much. i am very excited to be here - the music is excellent, filling the room, though as i look around i cannot place from where it is coming. suddenly i see him. the king himself. as it is a masquerade ball, he dances unrecognized, but i see him and he sees me. as he motions for me to follow him, i quickly excuse myself from a conversation with a very large trout and follow him to his bedroom. when he is certain we are alone, he takes off his mask, revealing the most beautiful face i have ever seen. he pushes me down onto his bed and takes off the rest of his clothes. as he takes off his undergarments i cannot help but pant, especially when it is revealed that he has no penis, rather a vagina. as he sits down on my face i lap hysterically until his orgasm, at which time i wake up.
i'm in a room with no doors, no windows. in the corner sleeps my lover, daniel, on the hardwood floor. i can't sleep because i'm busy trying to calculate how many times he exhales in one minute, on average. this is difficult because i have no clock. the floor creaks slightly under my weight, waking him unintentionally. i remain very still until he falls back to sleep and his breathing grows heavy again. with nothing else to do, i begin to masturbate slowly and quietly, so as not to wake him again. however, when i reach climax, i have this nasty habit of giggling uncontrollably, which i do now, waking him up a second time. as he stumbles over to me (he is blind), i finish and quickly clean up. in the darkness, i kiss his eyelids gently, careful not to get the stitches caught on my braces. his penis is hard, and as i guide it into my vagina, i am surprised to find he has shaved his pubic hair. after a few minutes of passionate moaning, i start to giggle again. as his fingers replace his penis and his penis enters my anus, i reach orgasm, crying out between my giggles: "35! 35!" it is then that i wake up.
i am a thousand different multicolored pastel butterflies, flying freely in the depths of the pacific ocean. i wake up.
i am in the english garden, in munich, with three naked men with hardons. one has blonde hair, one has red hair, and one is bald. except for these facts, the men are identical. they have no faces, only mouths, which keep repeating the phrase "da haben wir jungen!" when they point behind me, i turn to look. suddenly, i'm in amsterdam, and on every street corner, a boy dressed exactly like tom wolfe is waiting for me. they begin to chase me, and i turn and run. not watching where i am going, i fall and fall and fall and fall. screaming, i wake up.
i am in a dungeon bound in a sling with my mouth gagged. as i awake from my drugged state, i am aware of the marquis de sade fucking me mercilessly up the ass. when he notices that i have awaken, he pulls out and gently licks my penis until it has become hard. he says something to me in french, which i do not understand. angry with my ignorance, he cuts off both of my nipples with a dull knife. crying and frightened, i defecate. smiling, he kneels down and eats my shit as it exits my bleeding anus. finally content, he slits my throat with the same knife and i wake up.
i am in my bed, with amanda, after having waken up from a terrible dream. she wakes immediately and takes me into her three arms, neither of us saying a word. she knows. she's always known. when i am calmed down, i hold her ever closer. she kisses my bald head (from the chemo), and i drift quietly back to sleep in her embrace, free from the two serpents at long last. i wake up.
i am in my great-granddaughter's room, visiting on account of her father's marriage to a very wealthy member of the british royal family (prince william, but the house of windsor will deny this to the very last). after i have finished smelling the sweet smell of my great-granddaughter's panties and masturbating my octogenarian prick into one of her socks, i step out in my finest white suit for a walk in islington. while waiting for the tube, a man in a dark trenchcoat walks by me muttering something in french. unfortunately, i can only catch the last portion of this discourse, and as he hands me a small, black, leather address book, he says: "et que toutes mes fillettes vous saluent," and hurries on his way. happy and anxious, i enter the train whistling a strauss waltz, stepping in time (1-2-3, 1-2-3), and wake up.
i am shot. three times - once in the shoulder, once in the belly, and once in the forehead, by a man i have never met before. as i lay dying, i hear the pavement beneath me screaming and wake up.
i am dreaming. oscar is here, in my bed. he kisses my lips and tells me it's all right. he loves me. but it's not all right. i'm dreaming. and i don't want to wake up.