analog dreams

last night i dreamt i was in the backroom of a small private web hosting business. it was a barren walled, concrete floored room with a plaid type lime green garage sale couch and shitty wooden coffe table setup. there was an end table too. and a friend had died, but i don't know who, and she was laid out across my lap, all long blonde hair and naked body. rigomortis had already set in. she was stiff like a manican, and her head had removable sections like a science class dummy. somehow i knew she had already undergone an autopsy. calmly at first, i was trying to splice back together her insides, but they weren't the standard guts of human, but rather guts of analog tape. fumbling around with countless feet of magnetic strip i began to get frustrated, further negating my efforts at successfully piecing her back together until my hands were hopelessly intertwined in her magnetic insides. all the while my computer genius friend, this one living, was diligently trying to fix this business' poor internet connection. and a bowl of pot was being passed around by some other people in the room, but they weren't there before, until it came round to me. but there was no more drug to be had and as i cashed it out in the ashtray the cherry bounced to the floor. swiftly my girlfriend snatched it up and deftly placed in the ashen recepticle. and as i watched it fizzle out my eyes burst open to the sun filtered through emerald curtains.