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normal dream #1: the stolen floppy disks

13:41 20-5-2014

Hey there lurker, this week I have something completely different for you.

Last night I had a dream about you. As I wrote in my essay, I had a couple of nightmares listening to your music, one of which I described in the essay. This was the first regular dream I had in which you yourself actually appeared. It was a funny dream IMO, and very very apt, so here it is, for your lurking pleasure and amusement:

In this dream, you and I were both 10 years younger, possibly even younger, in our very early twenties. I dreamt I was in your parents’ house together with a large group of people, many young people and even some kids, all of whom I didn’t know. I don’t know the reason we were there. Your parents’ house was huge, like an 18th century mini-castle. At one of the top floors I would look outside the window and see a huge green estate spreading out around the castle, with perfectly kept trees lining the backyard and a creek. Oh yes, the Voulgarises were basically living in the equivalent of a Lutton Hoo in my dream. In the far distance I could see the edges of the sprawling city. I climbed up the wooden stairs going all the way up to your private room, which was in the attic of the house. There were no straight walls in your room at all because it had been build alongside the roof, so all the walls were slanted. The room was sparsely decorated, made up entirely of dark ocre wood lining the floor and the walls, which gave it a warm, golden feel I would not associate with you at all (since you describe your room as “dark and cold” in one of your songs). There was a huge iron desk along one side of the room with all kinds of electronic pieces of equipment inside their covers pushed to the back of the desk, and the large monitor of an old model PC on the left side of the desk. You weren’t in your room, so I decided to wait for you there. I don’t know why I was there waiting for you and no reason was given, as is often the case in dreams. Bored, I noticed a huge pile of audio compact disks scattered on the floor next to a cd player. I sat down before the cd-player, put the headphones on and began going through the pile of cds looking for those cds with your favourite songs (in my dream you had just posted your list of favourite songs on Facebook, and I wanted to hear as many of the songs on that list as I could find). There were many “Best of” compilations amongst the pile, Elvis, the Doors, Blues compilations, female black singers from the 1950s I did not recognize. As I progressed through the list of your favourite songs, I had to admit: “Shit, he really does have a great taste in music.”. The curious thing about this dream was that while I was listening to your cds, I was hearing actual songs I had never heard before in my head, and they were entire songs, I could distinctly hear the voices and make out all the words, but once I woke up I couldn’t remember anything. I had a desire to rip the cds and copy my favourite songs from your cds so that I could keep them for myself. (This part of the dream was so real, when I woke up I had to double-check for a second I hadn’t actually stolen any music of yours…). I looked over at your PC, reasoning I could rip the cds and get the songs there, but of course I did not have the password to access your operating system to start ripping cds, so instead I spontaneously began stealing your cds in order to rip them at home. I didn’t even bother to figure out how I was going to return all the stolen cds to you, or what excuse I was going to have come up with for stealing your cds upon returning them. I didn’t care, I was stuffing literal handfuls of cds into a leather bag I apparently had with me, filling the bag to the rim with your cds. I pulled the zipper and just as I was ready to bug out of your room with a bag full of your cds, hoping to exit your house as quickly as I could lest someone notice me, I heard your voice downstairs. Your room in the attic was built in such a way that I could run out the door and there was a balcony that allowed me to look all the way down past the other floors to the main floor, and I could see that indeed, there you were with some other young people. I ran back into your room, opened the bag and began removing the cds I had stolen. I could hear you already coming up the stairs, but I could not remove the stolen cds from my bag fast enough to form a pile on the floor similar to the one you had left behind. In a fit of desperation, I decided to empty my bag on your desk, scattering cds all over the desk amongst your stuff and my own stuff that was still in the bag. I threw my empty leather bag into a corner of the room to make it seem innocuous, and I walked over to the cd player, striking a pose pretending to walk over to the desk to pick up a new cd to listen to. That’s how you caught me just as you walked into your room. We did not introduce or greet, and you were not angry or shocked to find me there in your room. You walked over to your desk, stared at the piled up chaos of cds and things, and frowned. Not looking at me, you asked: “What is this?”. I answered: “You weren’t here, I was waiting for you, I decided to listen to some of your cds.”. To that pile of steaming bullshit, you responded in a purely practical way: “Just make sure you tidy up a little, I don’t want to have this huge mess in my room.”. That’s all you had to say. You left your room, and went back downstairs. In the mean time I thanked my lucky stars you bought my lies and didn’t suspect me of stealing your music. Overcome with guilt I immediately began stacking up the scattered cds on your desk into neat little stacks, while picking out my stuff and your stuff amongst the pile and putting those away. Once I was done I took my bag, intending to leave this castle as soon as possible. Downstairs, your mother came over to me just as I meant to sneak out. Again, we did not introduce or greet eventhough we’ve never exchanged a word in our lives, apparently she already knew who I am and also knew my whole backstory, so she asked me: “Γιατί, νομίζεις, σε κυνηγάει η αστυνομία;”. There wasn’t even the slightest hint of accusation or irony in her question, she seemed sincerely curious, so I answered her, with a semblance of logic that is truly uncanny considering the fact that this was in a dream, honestly and sincerely in Greek saying: “Πραγματικά δεν ξέρω γιατί. Δεν έχω την ιδέα ότι τιμωρούμαι για αυτά που έκανα. Ίσος να με κυνηγάνε πολύ απλά γιατί είμαι Ελληνίδα. Είχε βγει εκεινον τον καιρό το AIVD (= Ολλανδική Μυστική Υπηρεσία) και έκανε προπαγάνδα στο internet ότι δήθεν Ελληνες αναρχικοί ειχαν έρθει στην Ολλανδία και σκόπευαν να κάνουν τρομοκρατικες επιθέσεις στο Amsterdam.”. To that your mother said: “Ααα.”, as if she completely understood what I was talking about. She then walked away to speak to some of the other people visiting her castle.
A western-European looking woman who I understood was the personal secretary of your mom and dad, a slender blonde with short hair, asked all the young people to gather around her desk, she wanted to show them something that was apparently of interest to all the young people. Holding up a piece of paper with printed letters framed on a stand, she says: “We have in-house penalties for family members who remove videos from the family collection and do not return them on time. Alexander is the worst late returner, so his penalty is the highest of all the family members.”. Indeed, according to the frame the secretary was holding up for us to see, your mom and dad paid a penalty of 5 euros for not returning a video to the family collection on time, whereas your penalty was a whooping 45 euors. According to another document the secretary showed us, your total sum of penalties was 668 euros. Later I had a moment alone with you. Leaning on your couch. I told you: “You are fined 45 euros for handing in a video late?! That’s like being a prisoner in your own house!”. You didn’t respond, you were just looking at me, frowing, with a sad look on your face that says, “Now you know what I’m talking about.”.

At this point the entire group of young people including yourself was magically transported to a dark, pitch black cave. Emerging from the cave there was a stream before us, with huge rocks along the edges of the stream. The challenge was to climb over the rocks along the stream in order to get back to the castle. I followed you because you were the only one who already knew the path over the rocks, but you were really fast and I could barely keep up with you, diving quickly in and out of little pools to swim to the other side only to begin climbing over the rocks again. You joined a girl that was ahead of you even, you knew one another and seemed familiar, smiling and whispering to eachother as you continued climbing over the rocks. I was right behind you two, but you didn’t seem to notice me, which I used to my advantage because I wanted to see where this would lead. The two of you together were just plain too fast for me and I quickly lost you amongst the rocks, so I went back joined the rest of the group.

[Lots of other stuff happened in the dream at this point not including you, but the other group of people who were playing games around your parents’gigantic estate. Eventhough the dream itself was not a nightmare, there just had to be a nightmarish sequence where a stupid little girl was atop of a huge pole with a cat in her arms, which she dropped down the pole from a great hight, the cat screatching as it plummeted down to earth. The cat broke all its legs as a result of that fall, but the girl who climbed down the pole did not bother to attend to her injured cat, she just left the cat there to suffer its 4 broken legs, unable to move. The stupid little girl blankly stared up at the rest of us as if to say: “Like, what did I do? I don’t know what to do now and frankly I don’t care.”. But I disgress. Here is the end of the dream.]

Returning to my own home with my bag, I discovered that I didn’t manage to fully empty the bag of everything I had stolen from you. Inside the bag I found a soft carton box filled with 3,5 inch black floppy disks. From the written descriptions on the floppy labels, 8 char titles like “Elis”, “Shawn”, “Jack off”, “Hot sluts”, I can tell that these are tiny, pixelated, barely one minute long porno excerpts, the ones that teenage and adolescent boys used to download at the advent of the internet before the widespread use of broadband and satelite. IRL I would have been upset at you downloading internet porn, but in my dream I thought it was oddly endearing and amusing that while trying to steal all your music I was now stuck with your jackoff stash instead. For a moment I negotiated the temptation to check the actual contents of the floppies, but I was concerned about screwing up the date-stamps by accessing the contents, so despite my curiosity I decided to not view the porn. Then I was pondering how on earth I was going to return these floppy disks to you with a credible explanation for how these ever ended up in my bag. My first solution to this problem was: “Don’t say or admit anything! These are old floppies, he might have forgotten all about them and might not even notice that they are missing!”. But, “What if he does notice them missing? I was the only one in his room going through his stuff, he will suspect me of stealing them, and then we will have a commotion about this.”. I woke up before I managed to figure out what to do to return your floppy disks without incriminating myself.

And there you go. This was my dream about visiting your parents’ house, sneaking in your room, listening to your favourite music, deciding to steal your cds so that I could rip all the great music I was hearing, failing to steal your cds but ending up unwittingly stealing your teenage jackoff stash of floppies. I don’t know about you, but I thought this was a pretty amusing dream. At the same time it makes me incredibly sad that I am now actually dreaming normal dreams about you. Not that I want to go back to having nightmares, but I don’t want to normalize or domesticate you, or my anger towards you. I don’t want to be in your house, or in your room, or talking to your mom, or trying to keep up with you, and I really don’t want to steal your favourite music only to end up with something I really don’t want. So please stay out of dreams. Please stay out of my dreams, if you can.

14:43 20-5-2014

drs. Efthimia Dilpizoglou


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