I have a theory that the truth is never told during the nine-to-five hours. -Hunter S. Thompson

It begins out with 4 of us. On a Train. It is modern times but noting feels modern. We are lost in the country somewhere in Thompson, Connecticut.

The 4 of us are Richard Nixon who is actually just a very tall slightly plump man with a very grotesquely proportioned head that is Richard Nixon’s. He looked very stern and unjustly but we are great friends. Is probably a result from him not being able to talk (or not ever wanting to talk) in the normal sense. Later on he will talk but at least but with his mind.

There is Cara and a girl named Nothing. Cara is nothing like who she is in reality, complete flower girls ripped right out of the stereotypical look of them from the 60’s. They are wearing loose almost see-through dresses of a pale yellow or ivory white. Long straight hair that is not blonde but not their normal brunette color also, it is some sort of middle ground, they had a ribbon encircling their heads with flowers sticking out from them, they are also very free and spiritual beings, very concerned with nature and everything.

The reason for going on this train was in search of Gaia after all.

Lastly there was I. I was tall slender, confident in my movements, smoker, and I was bald, I was bald by my own choosing, I had shaved it off but under what circumstances other than to just shock my fellow companions I am not sure. The train itself was an interesting train. It was only three cars long and that included the front driving one. We never go into the front one until on the way back home to Thompson, Connecticut. The other two cars were a lounge so hippy-ish in it’s devising it was insane. But mix that with an Indian train.

For all purposes this was not a new train by any means. Old and decrepit and disgusting but slathered in so much character you wanted to puke. There were Indian blankets and rugs. Old ivory tea sets. An abundance of drugs of all types and makes in the corner delightfully and lovingly unorganized to the point that it was all organized. The windows were all the way down and as the train moved and went from city to city it seemed like the world would change from beautiful jungle scenery to a map of the world with a line dictating where we were going.

This was always where we hung out and was where Laughing (except for Nixon who laughed with his mind), having sex with one another, doing magnitudes of drugs, alcohol consumption, but not because it was fun (though we enjoyed ourselves) and not for a spiritual reason, it was simply just because. No explanation other than that can I ever feel. It was like we were recreating the ‘60s motif just to experience it and try to bring it back for ourselves.

I was there on an old 1920’s typewriter documenting the whole process. From the way the drugs felt to how we felt, to how the world had only changed to a jungle, like we were turning and twisting down and through a jungle of greenest, green to a destination that was suppose to be Las Vegas but I don’t believe that we ever make it there. If we do it is undocumented and lost forever in my dream characters mind.

Nixon would message use ridiculous messages to our heads about the world and how he’s always wanted to burn it all down and always through the people of the world. He reveals to us he is an extraordinary fan of Adolf Hitler and a sworn secret lover of communism.

His worldview is of social Darwinism and how that the weak are meant to just die off and we must supply our wealth and attention to those who actually make it in our world. He doesn’t say this in a mean and cruel way. There is no intention there at all as he sips on his margarita and puffs on his bong. He just simply believes that should be the right way to go.

Naturally I disagree and we have outstandingly friendly drug induced debates about the way of the world and what should happen. I know at one point he says something about how George Washington cutting down the cherry tree was an example that GW was an actual Social Darwinist because he knew the tree would eventually die so he cut it down to spare the tree that pain and suffering from when it was older.

It was ridiculous but made sort of sense in my drug-addled mind, I just simply argued that the world is of naturally peace and compassion. That is something that makes us so incredibly human and we can’t forget the lesser man. He counters with what makes us human is the fact us humans say we are humans. Humans say we are on top so humans are on top. If dolphins really wanted to be malicious and disgusting like us humans they would be able to rule the world.

And so on the debate goes for the length of the trip.

The two girls are pretty much not in this first part and it is just Nixon and I talking but you do hear them moaning and screaming in the second car, the caboose. It doesn’t bother us at all and we are more concerned with our talk. I feel now it is important to talk about our clothing.

Nixon is dressed in a loose Hawaiian shirt and light shorts with boat shoes and I am wearing a Hawaiian shirt also with long white pants and gray sandals.

When you see the girls they aren’t wearing any clothes and are only coming out to get drugs.

Then there is black.

When we resume we are heading back the other way.

Cara and I are married and cling onto each other. Nothing is always on Nixon giving a blowjob or some sort of sex. Cara and I just hold onto each other as we watch and talk with them.

On the way back it seems we depleted most of our drugs and there is no alcohol left besides wine which we make ourselves in the caboose of the train. There is more conflict for outside forces in this part.

First off we are following a train that is going to slow and we can’t go fast enough to be at the point of the ledge like we were before. We are all very perturbed by this and I break into the first car on the train. It is an open air compartment of just glass and a bunch of seats made of cows mooing at me except for the front seat which is a wooden rocking chair and it sat right in front of the control board.

I realize that there is a knife shaped straight and colored red in the control board of the train and it is stuck on fast. The knife’s hilt has a 5-pointed star on it with a hand with two thumbs clamped around a peyote button. I run past the cows and see the train ahead of us. We are going through a narrow jungle tunnel and the train is carrying some sort of plywood that was much wider then the tunnel was. It got caught and started to fall off. With all my might I pressed the knife upwards to maximum speed and we were off.

Zoomed so fast we materialized right through the other train.

Doing that somehow made us pick up two new people. In reality they are named Courtney Weis who in the dream was found by the girls as they tried to sneak into the winemaking caboose to hook up. She was putting on her clothes after having taken a bath in our wine. This coupled with the fact that their plot to hook up was destroyed greatly angered them and they came to me asking if they can get rid of her by tossing her into the jungle.

At this point though while they are asking me, Nothing dissolves into nothing and I instantly look back at the knife in the console and I see it is cutting through the board past maximum speed. Nixon remarks, “There goes the only sure thing that I ever had. Even my own wife was a prude even if she was a Barbie! She sure didn’t know how to split her legs like one. Now Nothing was always better than nothing! Now it is just nothing.”

Then that is when Tim Duboy shows up in his pimp hat and pimp cane only with his face and arm though. The rest of him is always half out of the scene. He rests a hand on Nixon’s shoulder and says, “Nixon my man, I am Timmy D of “My Chemical Romance Dance” (on Tuesday afternoons at 12:20 to 2:10 in the afternoon) and I will be your new Nothing. I’m a big supporter “4 more years!” and that entire dance. I wont let you down. That’s my promise I make as Nothing.”

That is when thing have just gotten to weird for me.

I fast forward through everything and we are at the train station at the edge of the jungle opening up to a luxurious plain. The sun is bright and hot and I just feel like I am going backwards. Literally I was and figuratively.  Nothing was back and like in the beginning when we were getting onto the train, the girls were skipping together with linked arms kicking up the pollen and grassy dew in the sunrise/sunset and Nixon just saunters forward with a bong in each hand his grotesquely shaped head casting a shadow that scares off small animals and Me. I am walking always backwards toward the train or forwards away from the train. I haven’t a clue whether it is the morning or the evening or if I am going towards or walking away. It seems caught in a loop. Replaying that beginning and ending.




And over



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Filed under Mr. Stacker

6 responses to “HUNTER S. THOMPSON DREAM March 26, 2012

  1. Hunter – a Saint in waiting
    Nixon – a student of Hobbes? Who would have known?
    Dream – insider information
    Later – what I always say

  2. Gaseimasha

    This seems to be a discombobulated mess of LSD-addled goodness, but it only see to be. I think the message is a bit more straightforward. I am guessing that those who lived through the sixties felt that they were on a journey to enlightenment. If you remember the whole “soul train” thing, then it’s easy to see why the first part of the dream is taking place on a train. You might be remembering all the hopes and dreams that you all had.

    The second part of the dream is different, but not really. You’re headed back, because the destination never materialized. You never reached it, and now the consequences of the drugs and sex appear to be catching up to you. Everything is falling apart, because things weren’t supposed to be like this. Things were not supposed to turn out this way. They should have been better, faster, correct.

    But the real key to it all lies in the blackness. The middle point between the first act on the train, and the second. Blackness and nothingness play a special role in this dream. It is with them, that I feel you will find an answer. It is with the blackness, I feel, that you will find whatever it was you were looking for. Thank you for posting this.

    • J.R.Taylor

      Wow…Thank you for the in depth analysis of the dream. I didn’t expect that.I do believe that dreams have meaning but I just really enjoyed it for the story that it told. I never really thought about looking into it. I’ll have to think upon it more now. You’ve brought up many ideas.

  3. thenerdyscribe

    Nixon in a Hawaiian shirt! :) I like your imagination.

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