September 16th, 2010

batou: confused

Day 5: A letter to my dreams

Hello Subconscious nanila.

I know you’re listening. Thank you for doing your thing quietly in the background when I’m sleeping and very rarely intruding on my conscious time. I hardly ever remember my dreams once I’m awake and I appreciate your consideration in not making me puzzle over your largely nonsensical interpretations of my troubles. I like the way you sort them out without bothering me too much.

I could have done without the one where the bloke’s parents’ house was located in a flooded mangrove swamp and I needed to rescue a stranded zebra. I discovered that the head of the Space & Atmospheric Physics group had stolen my wellies and was ambling into the distance, presumably to steal my zebra. I woke myself up by shaking my fist and shouting. That’s your quota of intrusive weirdness for the next month filled, mmkay.

Conscious nanila
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kusanagi: puerile

Can I interest you in my produce?

My new favourite picture of my dad. Let me show you it.

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Maintaining the theme of visual pleasure, I would like to pimp the work of riffraffish. He went and turned a speculative conversation about the conductive properties of crowbars into incontrovertible, tangible proof. With appropriate auditory accompaniment. \m/

Finally, if you haven't seen The Narcycist's delightful and provocative videos, you are seriously missing out. Observe here: P.H.A.T.W.A.. Possibly NSFW due to dancing Guantanamo detainees. Hilarious. No, really. (via [profile] anjabieh)