Last night: The dream starts with Lee Newton reviewing the Hobbit, saying that because it was filmed at 48 frames per second some people tend to perceive it as artificial and therefore dislike it. I lose sight of her, and start hurdling across buildings and cars everywhere, and wherever my feet make contact an object turns from orthodox, repetitive shades of grey to rich, vividly coloured Lego, making me think of King Midas if he had not been so materialistic. I feel like a manic bouncy ball, filled with this irrationally competitive kind of energy, as if I were countering violent opposition from oppressive forces I have no control over. I am now standing in front of a house, in the company of a teenage boy, whom I appear to be tutoring. We enter his shed (which is somehow simultaneously vacant and well-furnished for a mere shed, the entire thing giving me the impression of disturbing sterility and impotency) and are locked in by a relative. Strangely, I do not feel anger or fear. We turn on the television, which shows us a vehement storm raging outside, and, due to our indifference, we turn it off again. The wall behind us flickers and suddenly slender man appears on the screen. We are incredibly shaken and frightened now and quickly leave the shed. When we are outside, we leap into the air and start to fly, but since I have not fully unfolded my wings due to their sheer size (about 14 feet), I am forced to cling to the boy. Slender man, who has now transformed into a stoical eagle, flies after us, attempting to grab my wings in order to drag me down with him IMD.
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