[3:51 PM] vitalyb1984: yes. It is so dauntinc @ twitter that it is so public
[3:51 PM] vitalyb1984: yet if it was private I prob wouldn’t write
[3:52 PM] Eli: daunting?
[3:52 PM] vitalyb1984: yes
[3:52 PM] vitalyb1984: I can’t write personal stuff
[3:52 PM] vitalyb1984: so I write about doplhins having nasal sex. E.g:
“Nasal Sex – Amazon River Dolphins perform homosexual penetration of the blowhole, the only known example of nasal sex.” 4:06 AM Nov 21st 2008
[3:52 PM] vitalyb1984: instead of what really worries me
[3:52 PM] Eli: er yeah
[3:52 PM] Eli: …
[3:52 PM] Eli: you could be ambiguous
[3:53 PM] vitalyb1984: right
[3:53 PM] vitalyb1984: I was.
[3:53 PM] vitalyb1984: It wasn’t the dolphins who had nasal sex.
[3:53 PM] vitalyb1984: BAM
March 28, 2009
March 24, 2009
I’m having an argument with someone from workplace. We agree to settle our differences by a 3rd party, in this case, his girlfriend. She declares me guilty and I lie down on a rack. He starts to punch the rack from behind, eventually PUNCTURING my the rack, my back and having a bloody hand come from my chest.
I wake up. More WTFed than scared then go back to sleep.
I am amongst some kind of horrible African natives (strangely, they are white) that say I must set myself on fire and die for them to communicate with their Gods. I try to argue but they convince me with their logic. I get out a box of matches, lit one and press it against my chest, not much happens however. The African natives start giving me tips, “Try burning somewhere with hair!”, “Try your armpit!”, “The pubic area!”. Eventually someone gives a good tip, “Try to lit the hair! You have lots of it!”. Soon enough I catch fire and nothing of me remains except some dust and the brains.
The brain is taken to some sort of futuristic lab in which it is analyzed to understand more about my life traumas. The interfaces shows that I was anally raped when I was 11. Quite shocked to discover that fact I try to recollect what happened then and I recall of some wedding I attended in which, indeed, I was raped by the wedding go-go dancer.
I wake up again. This time to go to work.
June 9, 2008
“She wants nothing more than to be a little whore. He wants nothing less but to wear a little dress.”
Scenes from a trip memory…
Two great guys lying on a mountain at the Monfort. No wait, lemme restart.
One great guy wakes in the morning to find that his great friends deserted him in PALMAH graveyard (well, it wasn’t funny for him, but boy we laughed all the way).
Two girls disappear in the horizon, behind, guarding them, two great guys gravely walk behind. “Defend the women, the fire and the brandy!” (not seriously. But I do miss the brandy).
Suddenly moments of tired drunkenness. When you drink with a honest heart, it fills the void. You leave the time and discover the 4th dimension. You can move without walking which is great, because your hurt legs can’t take another step.
I am drunk, and drunkness in the 4th dimension is all you need.
Clara….. No wait, it is Vitaly.
May 26, 2008
Was in two parts. Not sure if connected or not
I am choosing between two companies to work for. Eventually deciding on
the one associated with Microsoft.
I come to a little sweaty office, and even though I come really early
but everyone is already there and they tell me, “Yeah, we come around
7:30 here”. I get a bit puzzled.
Then they tell me that what they do in their company is shooting arrows
Now they also have cripples in their work and they’re having trouble
with the whole arrow-shooting thing so it is my job to support them. I
thought it is not quite what was promised but fine.
Rest of the dream I was in a constant face of fear as I help crippled
people with shaky hands load arrows into bows, making sure they load
them the right way (arrowhead DOES NOT face your way!) and that they
shoot it in the right direction.
Eventually one of the bow-ropes snapped against my hand and I woke up.
Then I fell asleep again.
It goes as a haunted-goth-Lovercraft story. I come to a haunted
village, yet, I am not much bothered by it. I enter an old house and
the man inside complains that the ghosts there are terrible. Yet I
don’t mind to stay.
I see a lot of disturbing things, disfigured flying heads, a church
that collapses and reconstructs in front of my eyes and everything is
very dark and shadowy a foggy. Yet, I am fine and feel just a slight
tingle of fear, I a much more interested in the general physics engine
of the reconstructing church.
Then I hear the voice of the storyteller (I assume), “And even though
he saw the nightmares of the afterworld he decided to stay in the
damned village. But he didn’t see it all, oh no, he didn’t. And the
tingle of fear he feels now is sure to turn into a horrible and
grotesque episode!” then he laughs manically and I wake up.