darn that dream

4:49 am oct 31 2025 dreams are lawless or unfold, maneuver, wriggle around through their own string of unique laws, which seem

boundless boundaryless borderless

shapeless at times, or moving, er rather, evolving toward or away from some kind of shape.

sometimes I feel wonder (wish?) what if this is the dream and my dream is the waking life . . or another life unfolding alongside this one.

of course, AI has a TON of new dreams for us to marvel at, contemplate or laugh about. mostly laugh about. and the imagery is as lawless and unpredictable as dreams.

its as if they are the dreams of dreams.

the dreams of dreams

here's me in the moment of AI dreaming of dreams or dreaming of me dreaming like AI

or something else

my prompt is dream, selections intuitive, text organic hasty and, as with my liveblogging, unfiltered

warm greetings by friends who are a couple and all smiles and warmth and barefoot and kidding around. shabby carpet shabby couch shabby pillows n magazines. the vibe is casual and familiar. apartment life of friends.

spontaneous snapshot of that time at the beach. ocean roaring rolling and spraying. sun glaring but hey, look what you found. black n white paper piñata, japanese kite or stray party favor. you strained to hear me above the ocean sound waves. totally ok. lets capture the moment with this whimsical gift from the sand by the sea.

quiet late night moment I noticed the raw tableau, just being there in semi darkness, like some afterparty vanitas of casual bonding, hey pizza box with messed up lettering on the menu I'll never use. hey empty kleenex box. did I or someone smash it with a fist well probably out of fun, just to see what it will do? we are hangin out with that plastic TV so true, so TV everlasting, dude. it will outlive us and on many Goodwill shelves to come. how that plant survives us all and these parties I'll never know. my guess someone gets around to around to watering it, uh, like maybe twice a year. not I, but yeah, probably me. how many vhs tapes were destroyed in that TV? nevermind. Reverend Gene Scott on at 3AM. After Wally George. one more wine cooler to go. let's listen to Black Flag. alot happens at night!

dude. the party is jammin!

my memory of you letting me know how you'll remember me, but. but I don't need to goof around and remember you by sticking a polaroid of you on my face cuz I kinda care in real human way. but maybe your brain cells are partially numb or destroyed cuz we partied so much, but that was our bonding. whatever.

hey I dunno who this dude is or was. but he bailed cuz the party was wack, so who culd fuckin blame him. but. he lame.

most of all I remember the quality of light in that apartment was, um. I dunno. lets jus say we're always searching for the bong the keys your shoes my jeans and fork or some dork who slept over on the couch last night cuz nobody said no. and maybe nobody ever thot to open those fuckin blinds. as if anything we did said or not did in there was important or classified or anything. but yeah I guess it was meaningful. cuz this shit will never happen again.