My parents had recently opened a shop in a small town. While visiting, I discovered they had a slot car track that my dad carved out of a massive tree, and pieces of plastic. After entertaining himself with this toy for a few minutes, my dad lost interest and left the shop.
My mom asked me to help her carry some things to her car, near the beach. Unable to carry everything in one trip, I had to leave my enormous fishing rod in a breakfast diner, after wrapping it up in electrical tape. When I came back to get it, it was gone. I frantically searched every shop in town for it, and discovered a group of people in a booth at the diner that were excitedly pulling electrical tape off of it.
I told them it was mine, and one of the gals implored the man named 'Meadows' to relinquish the fishing rod to me, as it was rightfully mine. He vehemently refused, and we were transported to a meadow. He turned into a Wookiee, and I disintegrated his legs with a particle rifle.
Saturday, June 21, 2014
Friday, June 20, 2014
Night of 19JUN2014
My best friend's mom and I happened to be spelunking in a recently discovered cave in their backyard. Having no light to spelunk by, she fell off a precipice and broke her forearm. I told her I would be right back and bring help. So I left the cave, and never went back.
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
Night of 17JUN2014
It has been more than 12 hours since this dream, so I apologize for its vague description. It was very vivid, though, so I am able to remember the crucial parts.
There was some sort of party or BBQ going on at my place. Some famous comedian--can't remember his name--was there, and he told me about a concert. He said, "...if you like MSF (it was implied that he meant the Edgar Winter Group), then you should go to this concert." He handed me a flier. The bands listed all had the word 'Hell' in their name. Hell Yeah. Hellilah. Hellya. Helliyo. Tons of bands with hell in their name.
My girlfriend, after drinking the entire night, returned home. It was late, and we lived in a house I've never been in before. She was surprised that I felt let-down because she hadn't invited me to drink.
She brought a man home with her. Initially, I believed it to be a police officer, since he was yelling at her and questioning her about drugs (my girlfriend does not do drugs at all--or drink, for that matter). The man took her into another room and I overheard their conversation. He was strip-searching her for meth. When they exited the room, she was naked, but getting clothed.
I soon learned that his name was Robbity, and he was not a cop.
The man left, and the scene changed. I was now in a sterile kitchen with a lean man reminiscent of Archie, from the comics. He was telling me about how he had purchased an entire pail of pitch for his construction crew. While transporting it, he was pulled over by the police. They smelled the pitch--and then my alarm went off.
-Jack
There was some sort of party or BBQ going on at my place. Some famous comedian--can't remember his name--was there, and he told me about a concert. He said, "...if you like MSF (it was implied that he meant the Edgar Winter Group), then you should go to this concert." He handed me a flier. The bands listed all had the word 'Hell' in their name. Hell Yeah. Hellilah. Hellya. Helliyo. Tons of bands with hell in their name.
My girlfriend, after drinking the entire night, returned home. It was late, and we lived in a house I've never been in before. She was surprised that I felt let-down because she hadn't invited me to drink.
She brought a man home with her. Initially, I believed it to be a police officer, since he was yelling at her and questioning her about drugs (my girlfriend does not do drugs at all--or drink, for that matter). The man took her into another room and I overheard their conversation. He was strip-searching her for meth. When they exited the room, she was naked, but getting clothed.
I soon learned that his name was Robbity, and he was not a cop.
The man left, and the scene changed. I was now in a sterile kitchen with a lean man reminiscent of Archie, from the comics. He was telling me about how he had purchased an entire pail of pitch for his construction crew. While transporting it, he was pulled over by the police. They smelled the pitch--and then my alarm went off.
-Jack
Initial Post
Hello.
You may call me Jack. I did a blog about doodles a few years ago. It died. I don't really care. I still doodle, but I have too much shit to do to keep scanning everything. Maybe some day. Not today, though.
I just want to specify the scope of this blog.
Scope: Record my strange Chantix dreams.
Detail: I have smoked on and off for 13 years. I have tried the following methods to quit smoking:
Quitting smoking is more important to me than anything. It means my life expectancy increases, which is perfect since I intend to become a forest hermit in my later years. And my kids don't have to see me die in my 40s. Maybe my 50s or 60s, but I am okay with that.
The other times I was on Chantix, I had strange dreams. This continues. They don't make sense, and I commend my subconscious for formulating them. It is pure chaos and random. It amuses me. That is why I wish to record them in this blog.
-Jack
You may call me Jack. I did a blog about doodles a few years ago. It died. I don't really care. I still doodle, but I have too much shit to do to keep scanning everything. Maybe some day. Not today, though.
I just want to specify the scope of this blog.
Scope: Record my strange Chantix dreams.
Detail: I have smoked on and off for 13 years. I have tried the following methods to quit smoking:
- Cold turkey
- Nicotine patch
- Nicotine gum
- Nicotine patch + nicotine gum
- Nicotine patch + light cigarettes
- Wellbutrin
- Self-help book
- Hypnosis
- Vaping
- Chantix
Quitting smoking is more important to me than anything. It means my life expectancy increases, which is perfect since I intend to become a forest hermit in my later years. And my kids don't have to see me die in my 40s. Maybe my 50s or 60s, but I am okay with that.
The other times I was on Chantix, I had strange dreams. This continues. They don't make sense, and I commend my subconscious for formulating them. It is pure chaos and random. It amuses me. That is why I wish to record them in this blog.
-Jack
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