Destruction Orgy
I am so tired right now. But I feel good. I feel...bouncy and fuzzy. It's nice. Komeda makes me so happy...
No dreams of course: I didn't sleep for even a minute last night. But I slept for most of the day yesterday, and all I had were nightmares. One of the most intense was one in which there was a family living in a motel in the woods (I did not make a personal appearance in this one, so it was one of the "deeper level" ones), and...they were all disappearing one by one. The story became clearer as the dream went as (as my dreams often do), and it seems that some sort of non-human organization was taking over their minds, and making them kill other family members, and then take off into the woods to join the other people who had been taken over, who were forming a sort of chaos militia, committed to the sole goal of bringing pain and destruction to the human race. I didn't understand why, until night fell, and then the pleasure took over, the mass orgy of sexual decadance that took all the horror and pain of what they were doing away. One of the participants in the orgy was a snake, who flicked his soft red tounge into our mouths (I guess I was in the dream at this point, but only vaguely).
The family, which consisted of only two members at the end, was wondering where everyone else had gone, especially the daughter, who was the first to disappear, and had been all but forgotten in the chaos. A flashback insued: a young girl in a white dress, pictured in sepia tones, appeared in the daughter's room, and said "you must burn him," meaning the daughter's pet monkey. And so the daughter did: she took the monkey out back, burned him to ashes, then ground the ashes fine in a pencil sharpener. At this piont she was fully under the control of the creatures that conjured the image of the little girl, and so, as she was told to do, she killed her little brother, not much more than a toddler. I saw through her eyes: she barely saw anything, just flashes of images, sketchy and chaotic, as she killed her brother, and then left to join the people in the woods.
Well, I'm not completely sure about all of this, but the fact that the people were rewarded with escapist sex makes it clear that this has something to do my sex addiction. Is there something about me that I feel is horrible, perhaps the way I treat people, or the way I think about them, which has sex as a payoff, and so makes it all worth it? I do often have very disturbing fantasies which I am deeply ashamed of, which I know are wrong, and which I really want to stop having, but which I continue to make happen because I know that they'll get me off when gentler, more loving fantasies won't do. Why is it so important for me to get off? I suppose that's the big question. I think that I really became convinced that it was time to seriously stop my acting out when I began acting out my more violent fantasies in reality; never against anyone's will, but it disturbed me anyway. I don't see why I need sex so badly that I would hurt someone to get it, or even just imagine hurting someone in order to attain mastrabatory release.
The image of the snake seemed to conjure ideas of Adam and Eve, which is odd, seeing as I so totally not Christian. It is interesting that for the most part I was not in the dream, but then I showed up when the sex came in. Does this indicate that I really don't feel in control of myself, of my violent emotions, and that I use sex to attempt to bring back identity and peaceful order to my life? Stange contraction: I fantasize about violence to escape my violent feelings. It is true that every time I try to get fully sober (not just partially sober as I am now), the feelings that come up are very strong anger, usually in response to feelings of insecurity and helplessness.
I woke up for an hour, scared beyond my level of tolerance, and listened to some folks on NPR read their stories aloud: David Sedaris read one about drowning a rat, and being afraid of zombies, which was oddly comforting. After I fell asleep the dream continued, but in a more benign form. It seemed like a Stephen King novel, taking place in Colorado. There was still an attack on the human race, but it was less psychological, and more physical. There was snow everywhere. It was almost pleasant, especially compared to the first dream.
Heh. That was a really long entry. Like I said, I'm tired. Oh, and I haven't had sex with anyone for two weeks, for which I am very grateful.
No dreams of course: I didn't sleep for even a minute last night. But I slept for most of the day yesterday, and all I had were nightmares. One of the most intense was one in which there was a family living in a motel in the woods (I did not make a personal appearance in this one, so it was one of the "deeper level" ones), and...they were all disappearing one by one. The story became clearer as the dream went as (as my dreams often do), and it seems that some sort of non-human organization was taking over their minds, and making them kill other family members, and then take off into the woods to join the other people who had been taken over, who were forming a sort of chaos militia, committed to the sole goal of bringing pain and destruction to the human race. I didn't understand why, until night fell, and then the pleasure took over, the mass orgy of sexual decadance that took all the horror and pain of what they were doing away. One of the participants in the orgy was a snake, who flicked his soft red tounge into our mouths (I guess I was in the dream at this point, but only vaguely).
The family, which consisted of only two members at the end, was wondering where everyone else had gone, especially the daughter, who was the first to disappear, and had been all but forgotten in the chaos. A flashback insued: a young girl in a white dress, pictured in sepia tones, appeared in the daughter's room, and said "you must burn him," meaning the daughter's pet monkey. And so the daughter did: she took the monkey out back, burned him to ashes, then ground the ashes fine in a pencil sharpener. At this piont she was fully under the control of the creatures that conjured the image of the little girl, and so, as she was told to do, she killed her little brother, not much more than a toddler. I saw through her eyes: she barely saw anything, just flashes of images, sketchy and chaotic, as she killed her brother, and then left to join the people in the woods.
Well, I'm not completely sure about all of this, but the fact that the people were rewarded with escapist sex makes it clear that this has something to do my sex addiction. Is there something about me that I feel is horrible, perhaps the way I treat people, or the way I think about them, which has sex as a payoff, and so makes it all worth it? I do often have very disturbing fantasies which I am deeply ashamed of, which I know are wrong, and which I really want to stop having, but which I continue to make happen because I know that they'll get me off when gentler, more loving fantasies won't do. Why is it so important for me to get off? I suppose that's the big question. I think that I really became convinced that it was time to seriously stop my acting out when I began acting out my more violent fantasies in reality; never against anyone's will, but it disturbed me anyway. I don't see why I need sex so badly that I would hurt someone to get it, or even just imagine hurting someone in order to attain mastrabatory release.
The image of the snake seemed to conjure ideas of Adam and Eve, which is odd, seeing as I so totally not Christian. It is interesting that for the most part I was not in the dream, but then I showed up when the sex came in. Does this indicate that I really don't feel in control of myself, of my violent emotions, and that I use sex to attempt to bring back identity and peaceful order to my life? Stange contraction: I fantasize about violence to escape my violent feelings. It is true that every time I try to get fully sober (not just partially sober as I am now), the feelings that come up are very strong anger, usually in response to feelings of insecurity and helplessness.
I woke up for an hour, scared beyond my level of tolerance, and listened to some folks on NPR read their stories aloud: David Sedaris read one about drowning a rat, and being afraid of zombies, which was oddly comforting. After I fell asleep the dream continued, but in a more benign form. It seemed like a Stephen King novel, taking place in Colorado. There was still an attack on the human race, but it was less psychological, and more physical. There was snow everywhere. It was almost pleasant, especially compared to the first dream.
Heh. That was a really long entry. Like I said, I'm tired. Oh, and I haven't had sex with anyone for two weeks, for which I am very grateful.
posted by nearfalse | 5:42 AM
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