Mark E. Smith Dream

 

 

I haven't been remembering my dreams too well, they are as fleeting as pixie dust of late, but I had an epic crazy one a few nights ago. I was living with Carrie Brownstein (things weren't going too well between us) in a weird cylindrical old tower apt. building. 

 

I went over to Mark E. Smith of The Fall's house and when he was out of the room grabbed about four tubes of paint from him. The next day I went to see him again and he knew! He knew.

 

I tried to return them as if I was just borrowing them, but he was going to kill me. I resorted to my dream power of flying and he chased me all through the streets firing a pistol and throwing soccer balls. 

Finally I snuck back home and sought refuge in some sort of hospice run by elderly Asian women healers thinking it would be like sanctuary. Mark E. then hired a bunch of street thugs to break down the hospice door brandishing guns and began shooting people. I gathered my nerve and gave myself up, saying "It's me they want, then they'll go away."