![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Some of my tired is explained. I have cramps. Meh. I also have tea and a hot water bottle.
Weird dreams: Sunday night - horror - someone tapping at a window trying to get in (to do with my Shed World story, probably). This morning - more horror. In a comic book format. Lots of blues and greens, pen and ink drawings. Ginger Rodgers as a detective, wearing capri pants and a headscarf. She tracks a murderer to a graveyard, watches as he gives eyes (stolen from a victim, rather ripe by now) to a ghost, who pops them into her eyesockets and becomes solid enough for them to do the nasty for a bit. Then the eyeballs (ripe, remember) squish - cue close-up frame of ick spurting out of them (yes it's probably a bad sexual metaphor) - and the ghost becomes insubstantial once more.
You know, I don't think I'll ever need drugs when my brain gives me this shit for free.
Weird dreams: Sunday night - horror - someone tapping at a window trying to get in (to do with my Shed World story, probably). This morning - more horror. In a comic book format. Lots of blues and greens, pen and ink drawings. Ginger Rodgers as a detective, wearing capri pants and a headscarf. She tracks a murderer to a graveyard, watches as he gives eyes (stolen from a victim, rather ripe by now) to a ghost, who pops them into her eyesockets and becomes solid enough for them to do the nasty for a bit. Then the eyeballs (ripe, remember) squish - cue close-up frame of ick spurting out of them (yes it's probably a bad sexual metaphor) - and the ghost becomes insubstantial once more.
You know, I don't think I'll ever need drugs when my brain gives me this shit for free.
