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23 July 2009 @ 11:35 am
Eating dog  
Yes, that's the twisted thing I almost did in last night's dream. ('seems I'm starting to use this thing only to share subconscious fantasies, eh?) I'm the hero of the tale (as is usual), and I'm in a part of town that's very obviously not the kind of place where a person like me usually goes. I get into a Chinesesque restaurant of sorts where there's take-out and I order from a picture, something that looks the least disgusting.

Then the person behind the counter grins, he captures one of the dogs that's running about the kitchen (apparently, he doesn't care much for hygiene, I say!) and slaughters it with a device that's obviously not invented to do that sort of work. For some reason, I don't want to act surprised, so I patiently wait for my order to be done, I take it, pay, and go out to immediately dispose of the food.

I suppose a particular scene from The Grapes of Wrath, which I'm reading, and which I'm starting to very much dislike (however that thing won a Nobel Price, I don't know), inspired this freakish little fantasy. It's the night before the family sets out to leave for California when they slaughter their two pigs to have plenty of meat for underway. How the pigs turned into dog? Probably because I like dogs better.

But the dream doesn't end there. After I throw away the dog-food, there's an accident in the streets and a crowd gathers about to watch what is going on without doing anything useful to help the person hurt. I ask whether anyone's called 9-1-1 yet. They all stare at me sheepishly, so I make someone call it and check on the injured person myself. I'm not entirely sure what exactly happened next, but the dream ends with me leaving the scene gloating.