I enter my moms house into the back room. She is crying about something, and I look around the room. I see her cat Jynx, yet she is running around screeching like a banshee. Mom tells me it is possessed, and suddenly the cat jumps up onto her face and begins chewing, scratching, screaming. My mom grabs it by the head and throws it through the window.
We go outside to find her. As soon as I exit the house we are in a graveyard. A vast, old graveyard. Old tombstones line the ground and a thick fog is rising. Everything slowly fades to black, but I can still see the faintest of shapes. I hear a laugh, low and menacing. It chuckles as I feel something brush past me. I call out for my mom and she screams. I see her face, bright white and in horror, as she is dragged further away from me into the darkness. I run after her, tripping over the now unseen gravestones. Fear is building up in me, I feel blind. The laughter is getting louder as if it is inside my own head. I get pushed around while running. I trip and fall, landing hard on something. I gasp for breath, only to have something stand on top of me. I see the vaguest outline of a face, a giant grin and horrible eyes, and then it lunges down at me.
I wake up, gasping for air. The thunderstorm I fell asleep to is long gone, the rain dripping lazily off the roof onto the concrete. Lazily, I drift back to sleep.
I am in a small room with Sian. I believe the walls were a faint red, but the glow from the candles turned it a soft orange. She is making paper lanterns and wearing only a robe, sitting on a small blue cushion. She goes to speak but words do not come out, instead it is a haze. Almost as if she is telling me a story and I am being enveloped in it.
There is a very large tree, with vines wrapping up around the trunk. The branches are thick and head skyward, it's flowing hair-like leafs dangling down like the most beautiful of willows. A group of children walk up to this tree, and climb it. They find berries and fruits in it's branches, and tall blades of grass grow near it's roots. The children have clothes made of animal skins, but are not feral. They play and dance around the tree, my brother Sean being their leader. There is nothing to worry about; the tree provides for all.
Three adults appear on a beach. One is in a business suit, one is dressed as a pirate, and the other is clearly a detective of sorts. The man in the business suit chases the pirate across the sand and into the water, disappearing beneath the waves. The detective walks from the beach into a city, and begins asking people about the group of children he was tasked to find. Nobody seems to know, so he keeps searching. He arrives at a boxing ring surrounded by men dressed out of the 30's. Everyone is hootin' and hollerin', and two woman are standing in the ring looking right pissed at eachother. They happen to be Mamie Eisenhower and Eva Braun. The bell dings and they begin fisticuffs. After a few punches and kicks are thrown, they are bleeding and pulpy on the mat next to each other. The crowd is ferocious, calling for one of them to end it. Suddenly, they begin kissing. The detective shakes his head and continues onward. He rounds a corner and see's a very large brick church. In front of the church are a group of teenagers wearing hoods. Two boys and one girl. A young black child walks past them, head down and hands in his pockets. One of the teen boys whispers in his direction, "heroin" as he passes. The kid ignores him and keeps walking, and the three older kids turn and follow him around a corner.
"What boy you too good? want some crack?" said the girl, getting in front of the child.
He screams "Leave me alone!", and the two boys begin closing in on him. One is riding a skateboard. The girl pushes the child, and instantly he grabs her by the neck and slams her face down, onto the skateboard. The kid riding the skateboard stumbles off, smashing his teeth on the curb. Both him and the girl are crying in pain, blood flowing from their faces. The third teen picks up the skateboard and is about to beat the child with it. BLAM! The kids arm is shot and he drops it. Panicked, he runs away leaving his friends to rot. The child turns to see the detective. He reaches his hand outward, and the man takes it. The child pulls out a small, fuzzy creature, and it crawls all over the man. "His name is Geebo" says the child, as the creature makes cute purring noises and rests on the detectives shoulder. The kid takes the man around another corner and there is the tree, looking magnificent. No longer is a city in existence, just a vast jungle behind this towering God of flora.
"The other children are long gone", said the child to the adult. The man sits down against the tree, sighing heavily. Vines from the tree embrace him, and he becomes one with the bark.
I am in the room with Sian again. She pulls out a computer and begins to explain to me what my previous dreams supposedly meant. She explained why I should not fear the dark, and that I should turn in what I have finished of my comic to my teacher. I print it out, walk into another room and hand it to Mr Kime. He smiles and says "this is very good, josh". I walk back into the room with Sian and she is smiling. She turns away from me and keeps looking at things on her computer screen. I wrap my arms around her from behind, holding her close.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Mutated scientist and atom girl.
In a laboratory is a dark haired man, working frivolously with some petri dishes and vials full of an odd green liquid. He is being very cautious not to let the liquid touch his skin, sweating beads from extreme concentration. He wears goggles over his eyes for safety measures. Every so often he will pour some liquid into a dish, stir it with a glass thermometer, scribble notes down, then continue observing.
Elsewhere, in a large room full of faceless adults, sits a young girl possibly around 8 years old. She has dark skin, and very white hair. The expression on her face is nonexistent; she looks as if she is unaware of emotion. The men around her are dressed up: professors, scientists, military men, and the like. She sits next to a large machine, shaped almost like a coffee maker, but where the pot would sit there was a large bowl full of small, colored balls that looked to be liquid. She gestures with her hands and they lift, move, and swirl around her. People in the croud cheer, and shout ot requests. "Make Boron!" said one, to which she did. She waved her arms, and the colored balls circled around her, faster and faster, and then upon slowing, formed a single (albeit, rather large) atom of boron. "Tungsten!" shouted another, and she did that as well. A large man who barely fit into his lab outfit put his hand on her shoulder and smiled a like a jackle to the onlookers. "As you can see gentelman, she has ultimate control over the smallest of particles. This young woman IS atomic energy." The crowd errupts with applause and cheers, the large man, his face in shadow all but his smile which shown brightly, and the girl just sat there. She was staring into nothing, but then, her eyes widened. I am not actually in the room, nor the dream really, simply viewing it like a camera. But she stares right into me, as if she can see I am there. She gasps the slightest gasp, but nobody in the room notices.
I notice.
The scientist notices.
Back in the lab, he feels a gasp come over him, and it breaks his concentration. In that millesecond of absent thought, where a little girls first emotion had touched his mind and puzzled him ever so slightly, his finger slipped. He dabbed the very end of his left index finger into a petri dish and got a sticky, moldy substance on it. Just the tiniest bit. He began to panic, stumbling back out of his chair. He wiped the finger on his coat, smearing the light green substance into painted lines. After a moment he calmed, reassuring himself that the smallest amount won't hurt. He will be fine. He will be fine.
As soon as this thought crossed his mind, pain ripped through his body. He watched as his skin slowly began to fade to a sick yellow color. He twisted his hand in front of his face, gasping in horror as he felt his bones rip and pop, readjust. "No, no no no no no no !" he said to himself as the rest of his body goes through the change. Pop, snap, creeeek, rip. He can feel himself getting taller, his muscle mass rapidly growing. He looks in a mirror and sees his skull split open in front of his own eyes, his brain bubbling like an egg in a pan. His flesh thickens, his skull rebuilds itself around the sizzling brain. He watches the ground as his shadow changes form in front of him; becoming bulky, tall. His clothes are tearing off, unable to stay on his newly formed body. He cannot describe his hurt, his fear. When it is finished, his head is bumped on the ceiling.
He breathes in slowly, and breathes out even slower. A deep inhale/exhale exchange. Out of the corner of his eye he sees his former self, ghostlike and curled up on the ground. It gets up slowly and looks up, into his eyes.
"Fuck, you really did it this time didn't you?"
"Ug...guh..." He is unable to speak properly, his tongue feels foreign. Looking down at the shadow figure, he decides to never try again.
"We can't let anyone see this. Must hide, must hide."
He looks down at it and nods. Following the person that he once was, who he is sure is not really there, he is led into a parking garage. On the bottom level, he hided under the ramp. It is damp, it is cold, outside is thunder and lightning. Sitting under the car ramp, deep under ground, the monstrous man lays down his head on old newspapers and cries himself to sleep. Or he would have, if tears would form.
Elsewhere, in a large room full of faceless adults, sits a young girl possibly around 8 years old. She has dark skin, and very white hair. The expression on her face is nonexistent; she looks as if she is unaware of emotion. The men around her are dressed up: professors, scientists, military men, and the like. She sits next to a large machine, shaped almost like a coffee maker, but where the pot would sit there was a large bowl full of small, colored balls that looked to be liquid. She gestures with her hands and they lift, move, and swirl around her. People in the croud cheer, and shout ot requests. "Make Boron!" said one, to which she did. She waved her arms, and the colored balls circled around her, faster and faster, and then upon slowing, formed a single (albeit, rather large) atom of boron. "Tungsten!" shouted another, and she did that as well. A large man who barely fit into his lab outfit put his hand on her shoulder and smiled a like a jackle to the onlookers. "As you can see gentelman, she has ultimate control over the smallest of particles. This young woman IS atomic energy." The crowd errupts with applause and cheers, the large man, his face in shadow all but his smile which shown brightly, and the girl just sat there. She was staring into nothing, but then, her eyes widened. I am not actually in the room, nor the dream really, simply viewing it like a camera. But she stares right into me, as if she can see I am there. She gasps the slightest gasp, but nobody in the room notices.
I notice.
The scientist notices.
Back in the lab, he feels a gasp come over him, and it breaks his concentration. In that millesecond of absent thought, where a little girls first emotion had touched his mind and puzzled him ever so slightly, his finger slipped. He dabbed the very end of his left index finger into a petri dish and got a sticky, moldy substance on it. Just the tiniest bit. He began to panic, stumbling back out of his chair. He wiped the finger on his coat, smearing the light green substance into painted lines. After a moment he calmed, reassuring himself that the smallest amount won't hurt. He will be fine. He will be fine.
As soon as this thought crossed his mind, pain ripped through his body. He watched as his skin slowly began to fade to a sick yellow color. He twisted his hand in front of his face, gasping in horror as he felt his bones rip and pop, readjust. "No, no no no no no no !" he said to himself as the rest of his body goes through the change. Pop, snap, creeeek, rip. He can feel himself getting taller, his muscle mass rapidly growing. He looks in a mirror and sees his skull split open in front of his own eyes, his brain bubbling like an egg in a pan. His flesh thickens, his skull rebuilds itself around the sizzling brain. He watches the ground as his shadow changes form in front of him; becoming bulky, tall. His clothes are tearing off, unable to stay on his newly formed body. He cannot describe his hurt, his fear. When it is finished, his head is bumped on the ceiling.
He breathes in slowly, and breathes out even slower. A deep inhale/exhale exchange. Out of the corner of his eye he sees his former self, ghostlike and curled up on the ground. It gets up slowly and looks up, into his eyes.
"Fuck, you really did it this time didn't you?"
"Ug...guh..." He is unable to speak properly, his tongue feels foreign. Looking down at the shadow figure, he decides to never try again.
"We can't let anyone see this. Must hide, must hide."
He looks down at it and nods. Following the person that he once was, who he is sure is not really there, he is led into a parking garage. On the bottom level, he hided under the ramp. It is damp, it is cold, outside is thunder and lightning. Sitting under the car ramp, deep under ground, the monstrous man lays down his head on old newspapers and cries himself to sleep. Or he would have, if tears would form.
of book binding and agility.
It begins in a classroom, with non-descriptive kids all around. They have faces but act as placeholders, I suppose. We are at out desks, trying to do this complex math problem. It involves using a silver mirror positioned above our heads, using a glass globe to refract the light at a specific angle, onto graph paper that has a circle drawn around the x and y axis. The professor is explaining it as if it is the easiest thing in the world to do, yet I cannot come to terms on how to do it. After a while of frustratingly trying to write numbers along the axises, I give up and leave the room. The teacher yells to me that I will fail if I do not complete this problem, and I continue walking.
I am outside in the lawn in front of the school building. A friend of mine asks if I brought the right materials, and I look under my arm and I most certainly did: a beautiful maroon cloth with an intricate design embroidered onto it. I lay it down on the ground, and it stretches out to be about 8 feet by 11. We begin tucking, stretching, tucking, stretching. A bunch of things that don't seem to make sense for this process, but in the end I have a thick, beautiful looking book. This class' professor comes up to me and pats me on the shoulder. I open the book, pleased with myself, and am shocked to find words already written. As I try to focus on what it says, everything fades, and I feel tired.
When I look up from the book, I am sitting in a room, watching my cousin's two 4 year old children. They are running around the room, laughing and playing. Merak, the oldest of the twins, sits on a chair next to me and looks sad. I ask him, "What's wrong buddy?", to which he puts his hand up to his mouth, looks around the room slowly and sighs. He says to me, "I am trying to figure out who I am. What am I?"
at this point I wake up, long enough to roll over a moment and realize I am alone in bed.
I am in a gymnasium, but it is very sterile white. There are two walls really close together, running parallel, padded with soft cushion up along the walls. There is a small gap on the wall to my right. A tall, handsome man walks up to me. He has a large nose, dark eyes and dark hair. He is also wearing a dark grey cotton suit. He begins telling me that the rumors of him telling people to fight with grenades is taking way out of proportion; that what he said was simple a metaphor. He turns around immediately, runs to the end of the parallel walls. "I am working on my own stunts this time around", he says as he runs at a wall, runs along the wall, jumps into a flip and lands gracefully on a stool. I attempt to do the same, but fail at running along the wall. I tell him it is harder for me to do this on this side of the wall, that I am left handed and it would be easier for me to try it on the right wall. He smiles at me and says, "ah, I know this. Thus making the challenge worthwhile." Inspired, I give it a few more goes, but still cannot run along the wall long enough. Frustrated, I lean against the opposite wall and say "dog gone it", where immediately the dark haired man and a red headed woman walk up to me in surprise. The girl said "I didn't know you knew dog speak". The man puts his hand on my heart, smiling again, and tells me "If that is true, you can see things for as they are." Almost sudennly, whenever people start to speak, the words form in front of their mouths as if printed on paper. But even more suddenly, the words stop being what the people are saying, and more tend to describe how they are. One lady has "fish" written in front of her mouth, as water bubbles (that also look as if they are drawn on paper, kind of pasted over the image one may say?) came out of gills on her neck. (also, drawn). Another girl had "cat eyes" in front of her face, and over her actual eyes were drawn cat eyes. Everything was getting brighter, until it faded to white completely.
I am outside in the lawn in front of the school building. A friend of mine asks if I brought the right materials, and I look under my arm and I most certainly did: a beautiful maroon cloth with an intricate design embroidered onto it. I lay it down on the ground, and it stretches out to be about 8 feet by 11. We begin tucking, stretching, tucking, stretching. A bunch of things that don't seem to make sense for this process, but in the end I have a thick, beautiful looking book. This class' professor comes up to me and pats me on the shoulder. I open the book, pleased with myself, and am shocked to find words already written. As I try to focus on what it says, everything fades, and I feel tired.
When I look up from the book, I am sitting in a room, watching my cousin's two 4 year old children. They are running around the room, laughing and playing. Merak, the oldest of the twins, sits on a chair next to me and looks sad. I ask him, "What's wrong buddy?", to which he puts his hand up to his mouth, looks around the room slowly and sighs. He says to me, "I am trying to figure out who I am. What am I?"
at this point I wake up, long enough to roll over a moment and realize I am alone in bed.
I am in a gymnasium, but it is very sterile white. There are two walls really close together, running parallel, padded with soft cushion up along the walls. There is a small gap on the wall to my right. A tall, handsome man walks up to me. He has a large nose, dark eyes and dark hair. He is also wearing a dark grey cotton suit. He begins telling me that the rumors of him telling people to fight with grenades is taking way out of proportion; that what he said was simple a metaphor. He turns around immediately, runs to the end of the parallel walls. "I am working on my own stunts this time around", he says as he runs at a wall, runs along the wall, jumps into a flip and lands gracefully on a stool. I attempt to do the same, but fail at running along the wall. I tell him it is harder for me to do this on this side of the wall, that I am left handed and it would be easier for me to try it on the right wall. He smiles at me and says, "ah, I know this. Thus making the challenge worthwhile." Inspired, I give it a few more goes, but still cannot run along the wall long enough. Frustrated, I lean against the opposite wall and say "dog gone it", where immediately the dark haired man and a red headed woman walk up to me in surprise. The girl said "I didn't know you knew dog speak". The man puts his hand on my heart, smiling again, and tells me "If that is true, you can see things for as they are." Almost sudennly, whenever people start to speak, the words form in front of their mouths as if printed on paper. But even more suddenly, the words stop being what the people are saying, and more tend to describe how they are. One lady has "fish" written in front of her mouth, as water bubbles (that also look as if they are drawn on paper, kind of pasted over the image one may say?) came out of gills on her neck. (also, drawn). Another girl had "cat eyes" in front of her face, and over her actual eyes were drawn cat eyes. Everything was getting brighter, until it faded to white completely.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
House on the Hill and the Reboot.
I began approaching a very large mansion built into a lush green hill. The grass around it was tall, up to my knees, and it swayed in the wind. I took a look behind me as I ascended the lawn, only to see a vast sea of grass until the horizon. Dark clouds rolled in from that direction, slowly. I continued up until I reached a patio which had an entrance into the building. The archway was made of marble, the house itself seemed to be built of stone yet was very modern. Smooth, white, and almost castle-like. I entered the hallway and found an elevator that only went down. It was striking because it seemed to be the only metal in the house, these doors and transport.
Upon reaching the bottom floor i noticed it was a very solid bunker, deep below the surface and embedded into the hill. It was here that I encountered Sian, who grabbed me by the wrist and took me to a room full of canned foods and agriculture. A beautiful setup of plants and vegetables growing in this subterranean lair. We ventured through and in the next room was a square television, ten inches all around. We began playing a fighting video game, much like those of Capcom past, yet it had every known character from anything you can imagine (or, that I can imagine, I suppose).
After playing for a while I have to use the restroom, so I tell her I will be back. I get up and head towards the elevator but something catches my eye. I turn to my left and find a room with four horse-sized guinea pigs. Without question I mount one and ride it up a spiraled stone ramp, followed by the other three, which leads me to the exterior of the building. It is now raining slightly, thunder and lightning rolling across the clouds. I notice a very large barn that was not there before and thus go to investigate.
As I get close, the doors swing open and about 10 very large rams charge out. Their horns are magnificently white, as if made of ivory. They begin to charge me and my squad of g-pigs. I try to out manouver them and it works for a moment. Suddenlly, I notice a tall man standing on the upper level of the barn. All I can see is bright white, long, hair flowing from a skinny boney sillohette until lightning flashes, and he is lighten up. Dark grey skin, covered in scars and dirt. He points at me and more rams stampede from the barn. One of them slams into my mount and sends me flying through the air. I crash through a large glass window of the mansion, shards landing all around me as I tumble into what appears to be a dining room. Bloodied and bruised, I realize Sian is still downstairs-
~the sound of my phone awakens me. After some conversation and loving, I go back to sleep~
I am in a firefight. Everybody is dressed in cloths and rags, ranging from white to grey. In fact, everything now seems to be a brighter shade of grey, as if a mix between smoke and snow filled the air. There are two buildings facing each other, both slowly crumbling under the gunfire being shot from both sides. The only way to differentiate whose side I am on is that when I look at somebody who is an ally, they have a small orange triangle above their heads. I am laying on my back behind a small wall on the roof of the building. I have a sniper rifle. I am scared as hell, not knowing why I am here or why this is happening, but I look up and fire when I have the chance. Flat on my back, sit up, shoot, flat on my back, reload, sit up, shoot, flat on my back, reload...this goes on for I don't know how long. The tiny wall that is giving me just enough cover is slowly breaking down around me. Just then I realize I am being swarmed. Five enemies run around the corner and stare down at me. Before I can react, they have all began shooting.
everything is white. A voice asks me if I want to try my life over. If I choose to do so, it will be completely different, and all the consequences that entails. I choose to do so.
I am in a very old building, and I am a child. Maybe 6 years old. There is a boy and a girl that live with me, and a group of adults that have no faces. The building looks as tho it has barely been maintained. the ground is dirty, the wallpaper falling off. For some reason I shift perspective into the other boy (who happens to actually be me, and the girl sian. who the other character I have been so far in the dream is I am not sure, but we shall get back to him.)
We discuss how we must get out of this place. We know the horrible things the grown ups are planning. I grab sians hand and we beg the other boy to come with us, find an exit. He is too frightened tho, confused maybe. We leave him behind, thinking nothing of it, and wander the hallways. We find a wall that looks as if it is falling in on itself. Upon touching it, it ripples like gelatin. We slide on through into a room which wasn't even a room- a void of dark that we fell through for what seemed like ages. When we land, we are back in the old building. There are groups of teenagers drinking and listening to music. At this point, we realize we are also older. Wandering through the building, we find the boy from before, a teenager, long hair, his skin greyed and covered in self made scratches.
At this point my perspective switches back to the original character. I grab the two friends from my past and lead them to what appears to be a closet door. I open the door and many kids are in this small room. I began screaming like a beast, making noises and saying incohearent words. The partyers get freaked out and leave. I bite my nails, look around and tell my friends it is okay to come in. I point at all the writings on the wall. They are in many colors, as if drawn with crayon. Symbols of an eye with upside down random letters; phrases of words that don't make sense; crude drawings of heads exploding; words in foreign languages not of this earth; images of large horned creatures and lightning behind them. I explain that I have been locked in that room by the adults since they day they left. I had no idea where the writings on the wall came from, they had always been there. I drop to my knees and sob, because I see that the boy and girl next to me that were my friends are now faceless figures staring down at me. I scratch a large cut across my chest and fall down, face planting onto the wooden floorboards, inhaling a thick layer of dust.
Upon reaching the bottom floor i noticed it was a very solid bunker, deep below the surface and embedded into the hill. It was here that I encountered Sian, who grabbed me by the wrist and took me to a room full of canned foods and agriculture. A beautiful setup of plants and vegetables growing in this subterranean lair. We ventured through and in the next room was a square television, ten inches all around. We began playing a fighting video game, much like those of Capcom past, yet it had every known character from anything you can imagine (or, that I can imagine, I suppose).
After playing for a while I have to use the restroom, so I tell her I will be back. I get up and head towards the elevator but something catches my eye. I turn to my left and find a room with four horse-sized guinea pigs. Without question I mount one and ride it up a spiraled stone ramp, followed by the other three, which leads me to the exterior of the building. It is now raining slightly, thunder and lightning rolling across the clouds. I notice a very large barn that was not there before and thus go to investigate.
As I get close, the doors swing open and about 10 very large rams charge out. Their horns are magnificently white, as if made of ivory. They begin to charge me and my squad of g-pigs. I try to out manouver them and it works for a moment. Suddenlly, I notice a tall man standing on the upper level of the barn. All I can see is bright white, long, hair flowing from a skinny boney sillohette until lightning flashes, and he is lighten up. Dark grey skin, covered in scars and dirt. He points at me and more rams stampede from the barn. One of them slams into my mount and sends me flying through the air. I crash through a large glass window of the mansion, shards landing all around me as I tumble into what appears to be a dining room. Bloodied and bruised, I realize Sian is still downstairs-
~the sound of my phone awakens me. After some conversation and loving, I go back to sleep~
I am in a firefight. Everybody is dressed in cloths and rags, ranging from white to grey. In fact, everything now seems to be a brighter shade of grey, as if a mix between smoke and snow filled the air. There are two buildings facing each other, both slowly crumbling under the gunfire being shot from both sides. The only way to differentiate whose side I am on is that when I look at somebody who is an ally, they have a small orange triangle above their heads. I am laying on my back behind a small wall on the roof of the building. I have a sniper rifle. I am scared as hell, not knowing why I am here or why this is happening, but I look up and fire when I have the chance. Flat on my back, sit up, shoot, flat on my back, reload, sit up, shoot, flat on my back, reload...this goes on for I don't know how long. The tiny wall that is giving me just enough cover is slowly breaking down around me. Just then I realize I am being swarmed. Five enemies run around the corner and stare down at me. Before I can react, they have all began shooting.
everything is white. A voice asks me if I want to try my life over. If I choose to do so, it will be completely different, and all the consequences that entails. I choose to do so.
I am in a very old building, and I am a child. Maybe 6 years old. There is a boy and a girl that live with me, and a group of adults that have no faces. The building looks as tho it has barely been maintained. the ground is dirty, the wallpaper falling off. For some reason I shift perspective into the other boy (who happens to actually be me, and the girl sian. who the other character I have been so far in the dream is I am not sure, but we shall get back to him.)
We discuss how we must get out of this place. We know the horrible things the grown ups are planning. I grab sians hand and we beg the other boy to come with us, find an exit. He is too frightened tho, confused maybe. We leave him behind, thinking nothing of it, and wander the hallways. We find a wall that looks as if it is falling in on itself. Upon touching it, it ripples like gelatin. We slide on through into a room which wasn't even a room- a void of dark that we fell through for what seemed like ages. When we land, we are back in the old building. There are groups of teenagers drinking and listening to music. At this point, we realize we are also older. Wandering through the building, we find the boy from before, a teenager, long hair, his skin greyed and covered in self made scratches.
At this point my perspective switches back to the original character. I grab the two friends from my past and lead them to what appears to be a closet door. I open the door and many kids are in this small room. I began screaming like a beast, making noises and saying incohearent words. The partyers get freaked out and leave. I bite my nails, look around and tell my friends it is okay to come in. I point at all the writings on the wall. They are in many colors, as if drawn with crayon. Symbols of an eye with upside down random letters; phrases of words that don't make sense; crude drawings of heads exploding; words in foreign languages not of this earth; images of large horned creatures and lightning behind them. I explain that I have been locked in that room by the adults since they day they left. I had no idea where the writings on the wall came from, they had always been there. I drop to my knees and sob, because I see that the boy and girl next to me that were my friends are now faceless figures staring down at me. I scratch a large cut across my chest and fall down, face planting onto the wooden floorboards, inhaling a thick layer of dust.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Golden Field
Lately, I haven't been remembering much of my dreams, but I have been startled awake in most of them and the collar to my shirt is drenched in sweat. It is almost unsettling to not be able to remember what it was that frightened me so. I did remember this little tidbit from a dream the other night tho:
Looking out over a yellow wheat feild, the sky is large and empty. No clouds can be seen, and it is a very soft shade of blue. In the distance there stands a figure completely featureless, black, as if in shadow. I cannot tell if it is a girl or boy, but it is standing there in either a robe or a dress, from what I can gather by the contour. They were just standing there for a long while, when suddenly their left arm raised slowly from their hip, and began to swing it in a steady pace clockwise up and over their head. As it did this, The Sun was rising behind them almost rapidly, and it was ridiculously big. As it rose, the wheat field began to sparkle gold and blow about, swaying almost seductively. The sky went from blue to a soft, warm orange, radiating out from the large golden star as it arose. The figure, as it finished it's hand motion, was now even more indistinguishable, being back-lit to the extreme. A sense of calm came over me, and I fell backwards into the field, engulfed as if being held safely by a thousand arms.
I woke up refreshed and pensive.
Looking out over a yellow wheat feild, the sky is large and empty. No clouds can be seen, and it is a very soft shade of blue. In the distance there stands a figure completely featureless, black, as if in shadow. I cannot tell if it is a girl or boy, but it is standing there in either a robe or a dress, from what I can gather by the contour. They were just standing there for a long while, when suddenly their left arm raised slowly from their hip, and began to swing it in a steady pace clockwise up and over their head. As it did this, The Sun was rising behind them almost rapidly, and it was ridiculously big. As it rose, the wheat field began to sparkle gold and blow about, swaying almost seductively. The sky went from blue to a soft, warm orange, radiating out from the large golden star as it arose. The figure, as it finished it's hand motion, was now even more indistinguishable, being back-lit to the extreme. A sense of calm came over me, and I fell backwards into the field, engulfed as if being held safely by a thousand arms.
I woke up refreshed and pensive.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Mind Lock
I haven't been dreaming much lately. Maybe it's the bed I've been sleeping in, or even the room. I find myself awake around 8 every day, even if I fell asleep at 5, because the way the sunlight slithers in through the windows onto my eyes directly. Abruptly I am shaken from whatever dream world I was in, not remembering much of anything and feeling disgusted, as if everything in the atmosphere was rotting. An odd sensation, indeed.
What I can recall from last nights mess of dream mush:
- Non specific girl that, in the dream, I have a past with returns "home"
- "Home" is a small abandoned town where some houses are occupied by ghosts of memories, and beasts
- making out with non specific girl until shadow monster starts beating on window
-climbing around the house with ease
-at an outlet mall on the sea, visiting my brother at work
- non specific girl and her friend show up, her friend crying because her father was pulled into the abyss just that morning.
-hug both of them for comfort
-banshee attack petrifies everyone
Then my mother burst in, waking me up to move my car. Unable to fall back asleep, I attempted to reconstruct this dream into something meaningful...but I think my lack of good sleep lately has created a knot in my connection to the other-side.
What I can recall from last nights mess of dream mush:
- Non specific girl that, in the dream, I have a past with returns "home"
- "Home" is a small abandoned town where some houses are occupied by ghosts of memories, and beasts
- making out with non specific girl until shadow monster starts beating on window
-climbing around the house with ease
-at an outlet mall on the sea, visiting my brother at work
- non specific girl and her friend show up, her friend crying because her father was pulled into the abyss just that morning.
-hug both of them for comfort
-banshee attack petrifies everyone
Then my mother burst in, waking me up to move my car. Unable to fall back asleep, I attempted to reconstruct this dream into something meaningful...but I think my lack of good sleep lately has created a knot in my connection to the other-side.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Authority
I was walking around in a large, open city. It felt like central park almost, skyscrapers all around but where I was there was a lake and a large open field. In the center was a massive cathedral on the lake, as if the water was a form of moat. It was made of marble, beautifully crafted and had a lustrous glare coming off it as the sun began to set behind it. A large bridge led to the huge doors of the church, and there was an endless flow of people slowly walking into it, but never exiting. Along the perimeters of the lake was a very Gothic, black metal fence. I, along with some other people, were shouting at the church, rattling the fence with clenched fists.
"Don't trust them!", we screamed," can't you see nobody returns! Reject the false ideologies, think for yourself!"
A police officer approaches us, and everybody scatters, fleeing in absolute fear. I look him in the eyes as he approaches, noticing that he is hulking and towers above me.
"Young man you run along now."
"Officer I cannot and will not. I have the right to my opinion and I can try to warn these people of what I fear."
He leans down and puts his face in front of mine, getting angrier with each word. "This is America, and you will think the way everyone else does."
I attempt to begin protest, trying to argue the logic of that statement, but he presses further and bears down on me. He is no longer a man but a horrific figure. Still with a mans face, but a hulking mass falling upon me like a waterfall. His words are angry, and his voice sounds as if it is being said through the throats of 30 men, all a different pitch. It vibrates in my head, his demands for me to quit, all the while he falls upon me. I am sinking into the ground, his mass crushing me.
I fight back. I thrust my head upward and clock him in the jaw, which causes him to revert to being a normal, large human being. I get him in a leg lock and he is screaming, but pinned.
I call my mother, telling her I think I am in trouble. I explain the situation to her, and my fear of letting him go because I have assaulted an Officer. In my mind I have two options...I either have to kill this man...this thing...or I let it go, and suffer the penalty. As I try to explain this to my mother over the phone, the words stop coming out of my mouth. I try to speak, but I do not have the energy to exhale, and I find myself drifting off.
I woke up and did not want to move, feeling as exhausted as I had felt that last moment of the dream. It was as if something was holding me down to the bed. I drift back into sleep for about 45 minutes without dreaming, then wake up and started my day.
"Don't trust them!", we screamed," can't you see nobody returns! Reject the false ideologies, think for yourself!"
A police officer approaches us, and everybody scatters, fleeing in absolute fear. I look him in the eyes as he approaches, noticing that he is hulking and towers above me.
"Young man you run along now."
"Officer I cannot and will not. I have the right to my opinion and I can try to warn these people of what I fear."
He leans down and puts his face in front of mine, getting angrier with each word. "This is America, and you will think the way everyone else does."
I attempt to begin protest, trying to argue the logic of that statement, but he presses further and bears down on me. He is no longer a man but a horrific figure. Still with a mans face, but a hulking mass falling upon me like a waterfall. His words are angry, and his voice sounds as if it is being said through the throats of 30 men, all a different pitch. It vibrates in my head, his demands for me to quit, all the while he falls upon me. I am sinking into the ground, his mass crushing me.
I fight back. I thrust my head upward and clock him in the jaw, which causes him to revert to being a normal, large human being. I get him in a leg lock and he is screaming, but pinned.
I call my mother, telling her I think I am in trouble. I explain the situation to her, and my fear of letting him go because I have assaulted an Officer. In my mind I have two options...I either have to kill this man...this thing...or I let it go, and suffer the penalty. As I try to explain this to my mother over the phone, the words stop coming out of my mouth. I try to speak, but I do not have the energy to exhale, and I find myself drifting off.
I woke up and did not want to move, feeling as exhausted as I had felt that last moment of the dream. It was as if something was holding me down to the bed. I drift back into sleep for about 45 minutes without dreaming, then wake up and started my day.
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