Quote:
Originally posted by greatwhitenorthchick
Also I had tree-planting dreams
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When I was about 8, I had a series of vivid and bone-chilling nightmares involving an Evil Plant. Many plants are Bad or Wrong (hi, PLF!), but this plant was Evil. It could kill people who had touched it long after they had gotten home and gone to sleep, etc. And no one knew about its villainy but me. I bore the sad and lonely duty of guarding the Evil Plant to keep away the endless parade of clueless gawkers, many of whom died despite my precautions. They called me mad!
What was weird about this dream was that it wasn't recurring --- it was serial. It was
cinematic. Nay, it had a grandeur that was lacking in 1970s cinema. It was operatic.
It culminated after several months in me convincing the President (who may or may not have been Carter, but was definitely a kindly old gentleman who took some pursuading of the danger --- FWIW) to let me take the redwood slat half-barrel in which Evil Plant made its home out on a battleship to drop it into some trench in the Pacific. Still it lurks there.
What was also weird is that my 8-year-old brain came up with this story before ever having seen "Little Shop of Horrors" or having read "Rappaccini's Daughter." I mean, at the end of the day it was just a fucking plant and could be dropped off a battleship without putting up much of a fight. Fuckin' punk-ass pussy plant. Boo-yah!
