So because my friend is a an interesting character, I knew he'd get a kick out it so I sent him what happened... here's the Story, and here's some of his works ... the two are completely unrelated, but I can't help knowing that something to do with his personality and sense of humour perversly edged their way into my sleep/subconcious..
Here's what I sent him, all the other friends who were there, I have mentioned your names too ...cos you were there... anyway fuck it here goes....I've written it as i remember so excuse the timeline?..
Oi Gav,
had a really fucked up dream that i murdered you and buried you in my back yard, then a friend Mani, dug you up as he collected human body parts for his exhibits, he was bit pranged out when he found out i'd murdered you, and couldn't use the parts incase he was implicated somehow. My bro's were in the house cleaning up the backyard as were my mormon/ overtly christian neighbours, theirs, managed to pull it over them somehow and they didn't catch on (I don't think) But the fact they didn't flip also added to my paranoia. Real graphic image of all your intestines being ripped out and strewn in the garden to disintegrate and some sort of a wild cat being sent out to feed on them to disguise the damage further. I'd also decapitated you and hollowed out your head and tried to crush your skull, to stick it under a low bench behind some shit like a green pipe and a bucket if i remember right.
When I was inside trying to keep my mum from venturing outside, Mani's dumbass little brother pulled your decapitated riggamortified body from the couldron it was buried in and started doing some sort of an amature waltz/polka slowdance with your body, i rushed out and grabbed his hair and beat him to the ground as I was desperate to cover it up. I didn't want to kill you and you were still my friend, but I had to for some reason and it was just beginning to dawn on me that people would start asking questions soon and my life as a free man would probably end.
I ended up having to get a lift to croydon or somewhere thereabouts with someone who was remeniscint of the stylist from our last video shoot with you cut up in black bags to dispose of when someone woke me up for lunch....
I was fucking relieved that I didn't have a). your blood on my conscience, b). a fucking murder on my hands i had to dodge, generally that it wasn't real life.
Took me a good while to get normal, the fact i've still remembered this and felt to write it down about 12 hours later must mean that is has affected me somehow... I'll say inspired..
not to go on a spree, but how fucking random.
My flatmate Tony was my accomplice and Dee showed up and shat his pants at some point and ducked out.
Hope ur well otherwise, are you still in NYC, I have someone you need to meet....( and he's not a hitman, don't watch it)
Pavan
PEEZ
Devo
Come get it, i Got It
charmer
starfucker
No comments:
Post a Comment