It was more like a very strange story.
Some of it, I can trace back to when I was 17, and people I thought of… Some of it had to do with today, the way I got mollested by the subway system however, I don’t know… Some SM features in me longing to get out?
The last part though, was really odd… Marilyn Manson was living in my brothers’ place. It wasn’t their place, but it was, the way that stuff can be something in dreams. This one was nice, it wasn’t an nightmare in any way, even though some bits were quite horrible, I didn’t percieve them as such.
It makes me sad that even though I remember dreaming it, the memmories fade so fast. It’s weird how you can remember dreaming entire stories, but can’t remember what the story was. I’ll try to write it down, as I enjoyed waking up with all of this in my head.
It will be a long read, but I can’t hold this one back ;-)