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Dream of the night of the 20th to 21st of december 2015 - A Boy and his Blog — LiveJournal
Dream of the night of the 20th to 21st of december 2015

First part happened in a large book store and newsstand.

I browsed the magazines and at some point had to stop and sleep there on a mattress in the middle of the books and magazines.

I remember a very tiny book the size of my thumb and many other fascinating printed things.

I discuss with two guys, one asks the other to write “CHAMPON” in Japanese on a piece of paper for him. The other guy does it, and writes it with just one symbol.

I say, nah, that’s not how you write CHAMPON, to write champon you need to write --M (then I think wait, how do you write “M”?) but they I realize I erased what the guy had done for the other guy and that I should have minded my own business because the first guy was very happy with the wrong way on his paper.

At some point the bookstore became more like a class, as someone walked in that was like an important person /teacher. I realized I didn’t study very well and didn’t read the book I was supposed to and wouldn’t be able to pass the test. So I was like “oh, well, I’ll do it next year”.

I asked the woman if she needed to hire a writer or a journalist. I can’t remember her answer.

Then a big storm (a bookstorm?) swept away the store and people were being pushed in all directions and so I walked out.

Once I was out I was in Paris 15 district, in the south of the district, between parks and streets. There was a bench with very old and has been French TV people and actors who seemed to gather there to hang as a ritual (Stéphane Collaro, Bernard Menez…). They would look around suspiciously, and make lame old jokes as people walked past them without recognizing them most of the time.

I was sitting on high stairs nearby, and then this couple was sitting near me.

The old people by the bench leave, and the woman talks to me and tells me where they’re going, and if I want to go see.

I say yeah sure why not. I follow her and all of a sudden get distracted: I am in a medieval neighbourhood, perfectly preserved as is for the most part. I have no idea where the woman went, but I walk around the neighbourhood and see a baby piglet on a leash with a sign:



The pig looks in bad health, all of the front of its face is crumpled together and seems sore.

There’s no one around so I keep walking.

I see a second pig on a leash a little further, this time looking a bit healthier but I can’t really tell if his eyes are ok, and with the same sign on him.

I unleash the pig and take it with me, wondering if it’s ok to have a pet pig where I am.

The pig having a variable size, I put him in my pocket on top of some paper towels, and start walking around.

I enter a bar, which is modern on the inside with a large round bar and the waiters standing inside in the middle.

I pull the pig out of my pocket, and put it on the bar. It is now the size of a big mouse, and isn’t moving very much. Its eyes are very small with a concave yellow dent in the middle and I am assuming it’s blind.

A lot of poop came out of the pig while it was in my pocket, which slightly grosses me out and worries me about its health more. Its poop looks like strands of poop, like an earthworm would do, and is all around its butt and on the paper towels.

It’s also not moving very much, and I wonder if it’s sick.

One of the waiters looks at my pig and tells me it shouldn’t be kept alive because it’s sick/dying/dirty/etc.

So he shows me a large wine bottle and tells me he would kill my pig for me, smacking the pig to its death with the bottom part of the bottle. I look at the bottle and see that it’s not flat, as most wine bottles, and express concern about the efficiency of the technique. He tells me he’ll take care of him and I don’t question it, but I go look for a place to wash my hands.

I am now outside in a sort of concrete path between two gardens and medieval sheds. I see a woman sitting between two sheds with a sign:



I think to myself, fuck that, I’m not paying 20 dollars just to wash my hands of pig’s poop.

So there’s another kind of beat down medieval brick house, I get inside and there’s a very old brick sink with a water hose above it. I think ok, that will do. So I run some water on my hands and think about when I had a pig.

Then I walk outside and there are many boxes on the floor, one of them says “(MY NAME) - DRAWINGS”. It feels more like I’m in my old high school now, built during Napoleon. I’m alarmed and surprised to see that here. I open the box and there are drawings inside that I made and also lots of bits of super-8mm film strips that are probably mine too.

Then I woke up.

I am not sure how to analyze this dream. I think maybe when I was a kid I had lots of sickly little animals, and people around me would suggest I kill them. My cat was like that too at some point during my teenage, which made me feel some of the highest levels of empathy I ever felt.

I also often feel closer to animals than to humans in my dreams, not sure why. And I love pigs, I find that they’re closer to humans than most animals. One of my favourite films ever (the black cauldron) is about a boy in medieval times who has a pig he cares for.

I also went to high school in a very old high school built under Napoleonian times. Lots of places I knew as a kid were built in medieval times; stables, farms, churches, lavoirs; old stones, dirt, absence of modern comfort are a large part of my subconscious perception of the world. Or maybe these dream elements pop-up in my brain because of a more atavistic reason, as if all the dreams and all the lives of my ancestors were written in my DNA and I am exploring them with each new dream, sometimes merging them with my own experience…

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