dream last night, oh yes, and there was no sleep afterward, none none at all, even after -- but, that is another story all together.

dream:
i am a barmaid in some bizarre fairground tavern full of fairfreaks and such, something almost direktly out of a rikki ducornet novel, seemingly modern and yet in the 1700's at the same time. the place/time is very dirty and animalistic ...beasty. i am serving huge mugs of alkohilic brew to obniouxious/loud/roudy fair people, and daydreaming a bit, for this is my job and has been for a long time. it is common for my mind to wander to fantasy.

this fantasy is strikingly clear and moving in ways that make it a little hard to keep my heart in the work. in the fantasy i go back to my room, which is just a little square space seperated from the bar area on the side by long strips of canvas. the strips sway in the wind, dark dirty blues, reds, purples, yellows, letting in stripes of light which criss-cross along the dirt floor. there are meager things around...a mat to sleep on, a pile of filthy clothes near a small, rough dresser, and a full length, but cheap mirror leaning up against one of the tent poles.

in one of the corners of the room i find a ratty pile of black, sheer fabric -- this is very dear to me, and i hold it up to my cheek, breathing it in, caressing it with my fingertips. i hold it by little pieces between my forefingers and thumbs, letting it unravel slowly down to the ground, floating -- for it is very light. it is a see-through body suit with and attached fwoofy skirt, about knee length. i strip and slip the sheer fabric over my skin, and realize that not only do the arms and chest and such have little stratigically placed holes, oddly resembling leopard spots, and the skirt is all tattered and ripped and such in delicious little ways, but the tights are actually stockings, connected to the leotard by little built instrips, created by the crotch and butt being cut out of the outfit.

by this point, i can barely serve drinks anymore, let alone walk, and i tell the bartender/boss guy that i needed to go take care of my problem, and that it mattered not one bit to me that i may be fired. he smirked and let me go, saying that i could keep my job if i performad for the bar people. sure! and i ran off to my "room."

i find the tattered black outfit and lovingly slip it on, running my hands uncontrollably up and down my body. i walk over to the mirror and croutch down in front of it, spreading my thighs as wide as possible, and tucking back the fwoofy short skirt. i glance around, see eyes through gaps in the canvas strips, hands pulling the strips aside for better view. i smile brazenly and pick up a clear, oblong object and proceed to fuck myself with it, watching myself in the mirror, watching others watching, being quite loud and enjoying myself to the fullest extent possible.

at this point i woke up, and there was no going back to sleep.

nope.