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Don't Eat in Your Dreams
You probably have... but shook it off, because of course it didn’t. Right? A dream under scrutiny, illuminated by the dawn, is easily dismissed. Yet, if you’ve been where I’ve been… maybe a part of you wasn’t completely convinced.
Maybe, in the course of a dream— you wandered a little too far from yourself, from your bed, body and world. Maybe you’ve been to the Dream District.
If you ever find yourself in a place to wonder… ask. He’ll tell you; he will be beautiful, friendly and inviting. He will offer you hospitality, flattery and gifts. Anything you want. He’ll know what you want, somehow.
Yet, a part of you will know, deep down: you can’t take it. Not unless you’re going to stay. But you can’t stay, it’s a dream. You don’t belong there.
If you find yourself in the Dream District, thank your host and leave. Start walking, and don’t stop until you find yourself back in the dream you were supposed to be having. Do that, and hope he doesn't follow you.
It started with sweet potato pie.
If I had to describe it, I’d tell you it was richer than chocolate, smoother than cream and sinfully decadent. That description doesn’t do it justice. Other words come a little closer, like otherworldly or ambrosia. I feel pretentious describing anything in such terms, but I still mean them. Suffice to say, I’d never had anything so good and never would again.
The dream started in the middle of a Safeway on Thanksgiving Day. I was on a diet; that part wasn’t a dream, but it followed me there. The frustration and cravings that came with diets were hard to shake, even in my dreams.
I didn’t know I was dreaming, not at first.
Pushing an empty cart through the bakery section, I made note of everything I couldn’t have. Cookies, cakes, and doughnuts. No, no and no. As I steered the cart round every display, I repeated my mantra: “No sugar, low carbs. No sugar, low carbs.” The words became the whirring of the wheels; quickening with my footsteps when I realized I wasn’t alone.
Startled, I whirled to see a sales associate standing directly behind me. The nametag pinned to his chest said his name was Mor. Mor smiled, looking far too cheerful for someone working in customer service.
He was also surprisingly handsome, with skin clear as crystal, sleek gold hair and hypnotic emerald eyes. Everything about him reminded me of precious metals and stones. In fact, it was unnerving; like a living embodiment of photoshop: beautiful, but wrong. Beautiful, wrong, and staring intently at me.
It’s a trap, I thought. I don’t know why I thought that, but I did. I backed away, ready to abandon my cart and flee-- yet the impulse didn’t make sense, and I second guessed my instincts. It would be rude to run away from a gentleman who was only doing his job. There were no other customers in the store, was it any wonder he was being so attentive?
Wait. Was I really the only customer there? I looked around, uncomfortable with the sudden realization. Sure enough, it was just me, him, and all the delicious foods I couldn’t eat stacked neatly in every direction.
“Welcome.” Mor bowed in greeting, a strangely formal gesture. “There you are. Do you need help finding anything?” His voice sent a strange thrill through me, both pleasant and alarming. I shook my head.
Wait. What was I doing there?
I was trying so hard not to indulge. Why was I torturing myself? Why did I feel nervous, and even… guilty? Like I’d been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Caught on the verge of cheating on my diet! Not that Mor knew that. The word “diet” wasn’t stamped on my forehead, only on my mind.
“No, thank you.” I said, “I’m just browsing.” Browsing the baked goods, even knowing I couldn’t have them. He looked past me, peering into my empty cart. Clicking his tongue, he glanced back up at me.
“If you don’t mind my recommendation, the sweet potato pies are fresh and perfect for the holiday season. Please let me know if you need help finding anything.” He backed off a few feet, but continued to watch me.
“I’m on a diet, I can’t have that.” I admitted, “But I don’t see any diet-friendly options in here, so I’d better go.”
“You’re on a diet?” his jaw quirked, but the smile remained fixed. “There’s no need to worry about that.”
Annoyed, I gripped the handle of the shopping cart a little tighter. Holidays were the worst! No one wanted to think about dieting-- so they’d go out of their way to sabotage me, giving me “permission” to indulge just because it was a special occasion. I didn’t want to hear it.
“That’s not up to you.” I said.
“You misunderstand,” he said softly, “You’re in the Dream District. Whatever your worries are, you can leave them until you wake, if you ever do.”
“What?” I looked around. At first, the scene seemed like an ordinary grocery store, with glossy cement floors and incandescent yellow lights. Yet, the second I questioned it-- I could see beyond the bakery, the interior gradually shifting into cobblestone streets under a lavender sky.
“Yes, miss. As you can see, you’re dreaming, there’s no need to count calories or sacrifice your sense of taste. Of course, I have to wonder… why a lovely creature such as yourself thinks she needs to be on a diet, even outside this place. You’re beautiful as you are.”
No I wasn’t. That was flattery, but I still blushed like an idiot. Of course, now that he said it… it made sense. This was my dream, and now that I knew it… I had nothing to fear.
“I’ve always wanted to lucid dream.” I said, a wave of giddiness spreading through me. I thanked the man before turning my attention to all the displays with enthusiastic interest. “What was it you recommended?”
“Ah, that would be the sweet potato pie.” He pointed to a table which suddenly appeared in front of me. Presented prettily in a glass display was a single pan of sweet potato pie. A beam of glittering light cast down upon it, like an endorsement from God. Mor stepped closer to the case, opening it and looking at me expectantly.
“Go on, don’t be shy. I know exactly what you need.” he inclined his head, but I never lost sight of his eyes; pale, unwavering emerald. “I admire the willpower it’s taken to get where you are. Isn’t it time you rewarded yourself?”
In an instant, my hesitation evaporated, giving way to gluttonous desire. I reached into the case, marveling when I felt the coolness of the pan it was housed in-- delight shivered through me, my knees weak with anticipation. The intoxicating aroma wafted towards me like a beckoning hand.
“There’s nothing like it,” Mor continued his sales pitch, as if I wasn’t already sold. “You can only get it here.”
Why did that feel like a warning?
“Maybe I shouldn’t.” I said slowly, “even if this is a dream… it’s a slippery slope for me. Dieting, I mean.” Why was I explaining myself to him? Whoever he was, he wasn’t real; just a manifestation of… something. My food cravings? Somehow I didn’t think I’d find the answer in a dream dictionary.
“Why not?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “I prepared it just for you. This is everything you want, everything you’ve denied yourself. And for what? Certainly not your happiness, or you wouldn’t be here. This is your wish.”
This wasn’t an ordinary dream. Even in that moment, I knew. My senses weren’t the clouded, hazy approximations I was accustomed to in other dreams. This was a dream that indulged all my senses. Dread drifted back in, but I shook it off. What was there to fear from a dream?
“There’s no need to hold back.”
My heart began beating loudly. I could hear it; feel the pulsing, disconcerting rhythm of it. I sucked in a staggered breath; my palms were hot but the dish was cold.
“I need a fork.” I said.
“You already have one.” Mor replied. He was right. A plastic fork was already in my hand, though it hadn’t been before. I was startled, but when I looked up at Mor he merely smiled and said:
“In a dream, anything you wish is merely a thought away.”
I knew it was a dream, but there was still something unnerving in the logic of the place. I couldn’t put my finger on why, but something felt wrong.
“I should sit down.”
“As you wish.” in a dramatic sweeping motion, he pulled out a chair for me. It was suddenly there, along with the small round table. I sat down, setting the pie tin in front of me. Pressing the tines of the fork into the soft center, I scooped up a balanced bite: a perfect union of buttery, flaky crust and creamy sweet potato filling.
I will never forget that first bite, like God forged the flavor of my deepest, darkest desires. The taste of everything I didn’t know I wanted. The end-all be-all of dessert. Of food. Of anything. The velvety dream of sweetness and spices sent a quivering thrill through me that had me moaning for more. Fortunately, there was more. As much as I wanted!
“You can only get it here.”
I took bites as fast as I could, leaning over the table to shorten the distance between myself and the pie. The fork felt like a pretense, but I didn’t lose myself enough to set it down-- though the thought crossed my mind. When it was gone, I licked the plate, the fork, the table, my own lips for any stray crumbs. Then I remembered myself, and felt Mor’s eyes upon me; the glinting green gaze was half-lidded, yet predatory with the sharp curve of his smile. Unsettled and mildly embarrassed, I straightened my back and turned in my chair to face him.
“If this is my dream… why are you here?” Mor was unsettling. Why would I dream up someone who made me uncomfortable in a lucid dream? If my wishes were only a thought away, he’d be gone.
“I said you were dreaming, I never said this was your dream.”
I laughed at the odd reply, but his expression didn’t change. The laughter stopped, sticking in my throat like a stone. I stood up from the table, and started to walk-- I don’t know where I thought I was going, but I was done with Mor and his sweet potato pie. Yet, even with my clear refusal to take further part in this dream… I wanted more.
For the first time in a long time, I was satisfied. I left the store, walking down the cobblestone path and merging in that hazy, dreamlike way into the next chapter of sleep… I could still feel Mor watching me, a feeling I couldn’t shake until I was awake.
When I sat up in bed, I knew something was wrong.
The haze that filled me wasn't a typical early-morning daze; it was heavier, colder and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Sliding out from under the covers, my stomach shuddered with an audible growl. I was hungry. My stomach hadn’t been fooled by the dream, after all. Was that why I felt… off?
Instead of racing to the kitchen for breakfast, I forced myself through my morning routine. That strange funk didn’t fade, but I didn’t have a fever. When I opened the fridge and peered inside, nothing looked appealing to me. If I’m being honest, that wasn’t unusual… my diet wasn’t exciting. I’d been low-carb no-sugar for a good six months.
I peppered a hard boiled egg, but despite the firm whites and crumbly yolk… sawdust. It was like eating sawdust, in both texture and taste! That didn’t make sense. Even if the eggs were spoiled, that wasn’t right. They looked okay, even smelled as expected-- but the second the egg touched my tongue… it was wrong. All wrong!
A second bite confirmed it. Spitting it out and throwing all the eggs away, I rummaged for something else. Nothing sounded good, but I was starving! I tried the salad next, but the results were the same: sawdust. I choked, coughing the wilted greens into the sink before vomiting.
Nothing in the fridge or cupboards was edible. My hunger howled at me to find something, anything! But only one thing sounded good: sweet potato pie.
“You can only get it here.” Mor’s voice brought a little color into the room, quickly fading when I realized I’d imagined it. I was awake and alone, but I knew what I needed.
Grabbing my car keys, I left the house. Rushing to the Safeway, I scoured the bakery. The pies weren’t housed in glass cases or bathed in sparkling pillars of light, but they were still easy to find. The pastries were imperfect, with crusts cracked and crumbling. The filling wasn’t the right color either.
It didn’t matter. I was drooling. I bought them all! I tore into a pie as soon as I got into my car. I couldn’t even wait to get home! I didn’t have a fork, but that didn’t stop me. I used my fingers! Scooping up a heaping mouthful and drawing it to my dry, eager mouth-- only to start sobbing into the steering wheel. Like everything else I’d eaten that day… sawdust.
“I know what you need. You know it, too.”
I needed to sleep.
With the words came color, and a flash of taste… but it faded as soon as the thought did. After my tears, I threw the pies into the parking lot and took myself back home. Had a dream really destroyed my sense of taste? Would it come back?
It was ridiculous. I knew it, but nothing seemed as good as it once was. Not just taste, but colors, textures and sounds-- all seemed lacking in ways I’d never noticed before.
I called the doctor and made an appointment, but I knew this wasn’t something medicine could fix. By noon, I crawled back into bed and prayed into my pillow for sleep to take me back to that place, to that dream. The Dream District. Hunger made it hard to sleep, but when I did…
“I knew you would be back.”
Mor found me, a ray of light in an otherwise dark and colorless dream. The details around us didn’t matter, just the warmth of the hand he extended. I took it, and followed him from dream to dream until my bare feet touched sun-warmed cobblestone under a cool lavender sky.
“I’m hungry.” I whimpered. “I need more.”
“I know. I’m here. I’ll give you exactly what you need.”
The knowing gleam in his green eyes should have infuriated or alarmed me, but I was too desperate to care. It was already too late for me. Now that I’d tasted that sweet potato pie, I couldn’t eat anything else.
“Now that you’ve proven it to yourself, there’s no reason for you to leave.” he held something out to me. Without even looking, I knew what it was. Sweet potato pie. The culmination of every craving I’d ever felt, every morsel I’d ever denied myself in every delectable mouthful.
I found myself on all fours, far too eager to bother with utensils or even my hands. I chewed wildly with abandon, even tearing through the tin with my teeth once I’d eaten my way through that dreamy, creamy filling. There was something about this pie that satisfied me more than anything else ever had. It wasn’t an indulgence, it was a need.
When I woke up, I cried. Consciousness felt like a curse. I wanted to go back. The world outside of dreams was overrated, without color or flavor. It gets worse with every dream, a slow spiral into bleak madness. My only respite is dreams, even knowing I’m only dooming myself a little more with every bite. Each day became a race to bedtime, with the window growing shorter and shorter-- consequences be damned. I lost my job, my home, my everything… and I didn’t care, because I didn’t need any of that. I just needed a place to lay my head. A place to dream. I can do that anywhere.
“Why should you ever wake again?”
I don’t eat anymore. Not when I’m awake. Though I tried to choke down the sawdust, knowing I’d die if I didn’t… I can’t.
There’s a tarnished silver lining though; I’ve lost a lot of weight. I look better than I ever have. I’m a real Sleeping Beauty, aren’t I? I know how wrong it is. I promise I do, but recognizing the trap I’ve fallen into doesn’t save me from it. My fate is sealed, but at least I’m lucid enough to share my cautionary tale. Maybe, in the course of a dream-- you’ll do what I couldn’t, and say no to Mor, and others like him.
I’m going back to bed now, hopefully for the last time. I’m weak, I’m tired, but most of all…
Jun/2/2020 News: (1) Fugitive Prince's assets frozen; Sale of media outlets, hotels (2) Pashinyan promises curfew if... (3) Armenian airlines sanctioned (4) Gago's director charged (5) COVID update (6) Agricultural loot crates (7) Lake Sevan algae & fish (8) Ethnic minorities (9) Garabed Gospel
Fugitive prince's money-empire under arrest / Popular news outlets impactedSerj's (aka King) son-in-law and chief media propagandist Mikael Minasyan's (aka Prince) assets were earlier frozen after he was charged with money laundering and financial crimes. This is what the report says:
Pashinyan administration launched a felony investigation to find out how this "strategically important" military hydro-plant was privatized and allegedly embezzled by the King and his servants for 4x below the market value. Ex-Defense Minister Seyran Ohanyan is implicated.
Currently, hydro's sole shareholder is another firm, whose sole shareholder is Russia-based businessman Samvel Karapetyan.
But before Karapetyan got the shares in 2016, two peasants owned 19% and 11% shares. Both peasants are servants of our Prince.
The third peasant was an offshore firm "VOD Group" registered in Luxemburg.
Opera Suite Hotel
Founded in 2015, Yerevan's "Opera Suite" hotel is owned by "Office Class" firm. The King personally went to the tape-cutting ceremony.
One of the directors of this hotel is Prince's peasant who owned 19% of the aforementioned hydro plant.
This hotel's 50% belongs to an offshore firm in the Virgin Islands, 25% to Russia-based media-man Arthur Janibekyan. Another smaller shareholder is our Prince's 4th peasant.
NSS is investigating the transactions between shareholders. Some assets are frozen.
Hilton franchise hotel
Armenia-based firm Velofirma owns a trademark license to run a Hilton hotel in Yerevan.
One of the shareholders is our Prince's 4th peasant, who is also a director in the aforementioned hotel.
SPAYKA import-export giant
Sole shareholder Davit Khazaryan's 6bln worth shares have been frozen; he himself was arrested for SPAYKA's tax evasion recently.
But before he became the sole shareholder, 49% of shares belonged to Prince's 5th peasant who originates from Prince's brother's circles.
Yup, that one is also under arrest. Our Prince was the sole hustler between 2003-2011. Then he decided to transfer 100% shares to a firm in the Virgin Islands.
The shares were transferred again in 2018. Today, Russia-based media-man Arthur Janibekyan owns 85%, and 5% belong to none other than our 1st Peasant (19% hydro shareholder and hotel director).
Media empire shares
PanArmenian Media Group was the largest media org. It was a conglomerate of several news organizations co-owned by Roboserj.
In 2019, its outlets ArmNews, tert.am, and Lav Radio went under the control of HHK MP Samvel Farmanyan.
Another of Minasyan's outlets Armenia TV went to Russia-based media-man Arthur Janibekyan. These shares are also arrested at the moment.
news.am is not allowed to sell/buy shares either because it's assets/transactions are also under investigation.
update: Armenia-based airlines blacklistedContext: You may remember how Armenian Civil Aviation found itself in hot water last year after its employees colluded with an airline company to hide "unfavorable" documents from Aviation chief Revazyan, which led to regulatory problems for Aviation and felony investigation. And how Armenian airlines were implicated in weapon smuggling in Africa that took place years ago. And how Armenian Aviation lacks connections with African colleagues to do safety checks of Armenian jets located in Africa, etc.
The EU has finalized the process of blacklisting 6 airline companies registered by Armenia for 1 year.
To fly to the EU, the airlines will either have to correct their mistakes - and Civil Aviation to improve its own violation detection mechanisms - or they can pass another audit from a different safety agency to "override" the previous audit.
The sanction doesn't apply to humanitarian flights, flights outside of EU, or international airline companies.
The sanctioned companies are Atlantis, MarsAvia, Skyball, Armenia Airways, Aircompany Armenia, Armenian Helicopters.
Out of these 6, only Aircomany Armenia was transporting humans to-from the Lyon, EU.
EU has offered assistance to fix the problems. Aviation agreed to work with them to improve safety.
Another one of Dodi Gago's directors gets chargedBHK chief Gago owns the Ararat Wine Factory in Yerevan. Its Director is charged with fraud and forgery. The report says:
In 2019, the Director signed a contract with a delivery Firm. Months later the factory owed 120mln to the Firm.
Meanwhile, the Firm filed for bankruptcy. The factory Director forged documents before presenting them to the court during the bankruptcy hearing. By doing so, he tried to avoid paying back the 120mln debt to the Firm.
A felony case is launched against the Director.
"hate speech" 404Update: The "hate speech" written against Civil Aviation chief Revazyan and her newborn baby, by the editor of shame.am website, was not against the law. The police dropped the investigation.
COVID update+517 infected. +25 healed. +20 deaths. 6368 active.
All-time: 10k infected, 158 deaths (56 of whom died from "other" causes but had COVID at the time of death).
Artsakh is still holding strong. 20 active, 26 healed, 0 deaths, 100 isolated.
Deputy-PM Mirzoyan, his family, and 1st lady's brother all tested negative.
101yo Nazani tati recovered and was discharged from St. Gregory hospital today, after spending weeks in ICU.
NSS investigates parents......who ignored the COVID safety and organized a playground party with 50 kids in Shengavit, Yerevan. The police will penalize the organizers.
YOU'RE GOING TO JAIL, KIDS. SAY "hi" TO ROBIK.
protests after bazaar is told to closeEmergency Taskforce ordered Armavir's Meimandar bazaar to close for 24-hours for violating COVID rules about masks, gloves, temperature checks.
The low-income traders got upset and staged a protest, saying disinfection would be a better alternative to closing.
Police said there will be disinfection after the facility closes.
"Gloria" factory workers in Vanadzor...... were packed in a bus that takes them home after the shift. Pashinyan complained about the overcrowding, saying: "This is what secures the high COVID infection rates in Armenia."
Emergency Taskforce shut down the factory for 3 days.
PM: send me videos of overcrowding incidents so I can post them on my page. [his Facebook account is currently full of such photos/videos for naming and shaming]
Pashinyan threatens with curfew unless public follows safetyPM: the situation is bad, but if you follow safety, we'll defeat the pandemic. We still don't have the required discipline.
If the govt shuts down a market, we get blamed for being too harsh or supporting one business over the other. We'll be maximum harsh from now on. If you sell tomatoes you must follow safety rules.
We either follow safety rules, or we'll have a curfew and shut down the entire economy again. In this case, we'll have a long-term catastrophic economic crisis.
16,000 Armenian-Russians want to return4,300 Armenians have already been registered in Russia to take emergency Russia-Armenia flights in the near future. They'll be required to self-isolate upon arrival.
names of COVID deaths leakHackers obtained and published the names of Armenians who died of COVID.
Security expert Samvel Martirosyan urges precaution: It's published by a Russia-based Facebook account which has a record of spreading photoshopped conversations belonging to [anti-Kocharyan] politician Styopa Safaryan. It could be a hacking leak or internal sabotage of the servers. Either way, the personal data isn't safe in govt database; there should be an independent group of observers to monitor data safety.
The govt later confirmed the authenticity of the names. The police are investigating.
railway to resume its operationsSouth-Caucasus Railways saw a 64% drop in ridership in Yerevan-Gyumri since March 27th. Two-way traffic -15%.
Passengers will have their temperatures checked before boarding. Masks and distancing are required.
Bonnie and Clyde terrorize YerevanA young couple was busted with burning down 4 garbage bins and shattering the windows of several shops in Yerevan.
The cops convinced Bonnie to appear at a station and confess to crimes.
Lake SevanLast year the algae bloomed in Sevan to a higher degree than in the past. The lake turned "romantic green".
The type of cyanobacteria that bloomed in Sevan is not as toxic as we see in other fresh lakes. EU is helping to examine its effect on agriculture and cattle.
Nonetheless, any cyanobacteria blooming is bad and can lead to loss of lake if no action is taken. We must remove chemical inflow into the lake. The phosphorous dumped into the lake acts as food.
Global high temps contribute to the problem. Last year the blooming began in mid-June. We expect a repetition this year.
We can increase the fish population to reduce organic growth; they act as sanitizers. The EU is helping us with that. After 19 years of improperly regulated industrial fishing, last year the govt clarified the regulations.
We also passed laws to better regulate how much and when the water can be drained from Sevan.
Despite our earlier concerns that Sevan's levels would be lower this year due to higher temp, at the last moment we had more rain, which balanced it.
ethnic minorities to get a vacationParliament voted 98-x to approve a QP bill to allow ethnic minorities to take an unpaid vacation during their ethnic/religious holidays.
Garabed GospelArmenian Museum of America in Massachusetts will digitize one of the most important pieces in its collection–the 1207 Garabed Gospel written on 250 pages of goat skin, throughout the span of 11 years, during which the author became blind.
from village straight to your door"Berqahavaq" is a service created during COVID. It connects the farmer with the consumer.
As in the case of box of chocolates, when you order one of their "loot crates", you don't know what's inside, but it's guaranteed to be a fresh veggie or fruit.
Weekly subscriptions are common. Each box costs $10 and weighs ~7kg with ~11 types of items.
The workers travel around and find farmers who agree for their goodies to be boxed and shipped.
Disclaimer & Terminology1) The accused are innocent until proven guilty in the court of law, even if they sound guilty.
2) Currency in Armenian ֏ unless specified otherwise.
3) NSS/SIS/SOC = law enforcement agencies. QP = Civil Contract Party. LHK = Bright Armenia Party. BHK = Prosperous Armenia Party. HHK = Republican Party.
4) ARCHIVE of older posts by Idontknowmuch: PART 1 ; PART 2 ; PART 3 ; PART 4 ; PART 5.
4) ARCHIVE of older posts by Armeniapedia.