Beef onstage, Twix galore, spanking, sex, Santana
Level of Lucidity: N/A Level of Cohesiveness:

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gf's dream: she was shopping in New York City.my dream: I too am in New York City!
1. I am moving into a spacious artist loft, like a Soho loft. The walls are mostly at odd angles. I'm not sure how I landed this place. I think the reason is connected to my ex, Venus; I should make a note to contact her and find out what is going on. The floor is raw unfinished wood, like a stage.
As the neighbor shows me around I suddenly start panicking that there's no possible way I can afford such a pricey spread. Do I even belong here?
The sister-loft next door has a long workbench on it, like for wallpapering or set building. The guy shows me to the den in the front. It has a feeling of gay men about it. A couple of office-like desks. Every square inch of bookshelf and free desk space is covered with boxes of Twix chocolate bars. There must be hundreds of different flavors here! (In real life there are only two.) One box is actually hanging open with some half-eaten bars in it.
Scene shift: I am a playwright at work. But I'm thinking: there's no future in this, what the hell am I doing? Anyway I'm working out the concept of a production, onstage, on the fly. I have been soliciting ideas from the various improvisational actors and making a list on my clipboard. The show will apparently be a collaboration.
The premise of the show is French: Le Boeuf. Literally, the Beef. We'll be dissecting the Beef, slicing it, breaking it down into small morsels and digesting it!
[These two rooms seem to indicate two different approaches to a greivance (a beef): the analysis of it to see what it's really about; or a belief in higher abundance (boxes of candy) that will supersede and annul the argument. Although it's clear that meat is far more nutritious than candy bars... Also, half awake, I can't help thinking about the young action filmstar, Shia LeBoeuf. That makes me think about the Shia, i.e. the Shiites, who really have a beef these days.]
2. There followed a few dreams about me playing Santana on guitar.
In the middle of these dreams, there was a bunch of half naked people around me, clothes basically falling off. Some strange party game. The idea of the game was to pick something that you could do quickly to every person in the room. I picked a 'spank on the ass'. I ran around amused, spanking everyone lightly.
Some other people were doing very hardcore sexual swinger stuff. I think I see a transexual or two... I say to a friend, "Wow, I've just touched more people intimately in a shorter time than in my whole life!"
The last dream, someone approached me and said, "I hear you can play like Carlos." I answer, "Yeah." He says, disbelievingly, "Well, the one thing I do know about Santana is he uses a four octave range."
[That's an interesting angle I hadn't really thought about before... I usually think about Santana in relation to his pauses and phrasing, and to his scale choices.]
Additional Comments:
In retrospect, the abundance of Twix represented a large stash of computer porn. Harmless treat or disgusting habit requiring an intervention? You decide.