Thursday, December 21, 2006

Dreamscape 12/21/06

I snapped to. I could feel the warmth around me hugging like a nicely knit sweater. It was pleasant, loving, nurturing. My face felt as though it was going to split open because of my smile. The emotion of love encircled me as though it were magic.

A cold sharp sensation rang into my surroundings and I quickly struggled to my feet, looking around, sensation fading slightly. I could feel a threat of some kind, unknown... what is this? What is this about?

A golden ray of light shone down from the sky above me. Invigorating, intoxicating, warm, and addictive. It stopped rather abruptly leaving me cold again with the other sensation wrapping itself aroundd me area of consciousness.

Two men I know by the name of 'Tom' appeared into the dwindilng light and stared at me. The tall one was very calm and collected. The shorter one was menacing and cruel looking. The short one charged at me and I somehow became incredibly fluid, as though I understood each and every movement he was going to make. The tall one vanished from view entirely.

The short Tom brandished a sword of cold steel and I reached for Dancer at my belt and unsheathed her, taking my defensive stance. His eyes were cold and unjust, full of hatred and putrid vile scum. It burned my soul to look into those eyes, but I stared still, staring this.. . thing.. this demon down.
He closed in slowly and with blinding speed he struck, but Dancer was there to deflect the blow and I countered quickly forcing him to bound back. He continued to do this several times with no success, then went berserk.

He spoke in some kind of tongue that I did not understand. I understood that it was mocking me in some way, but did not understand what was said. Now I assaulted him back, our swords clashing with speeds that would make any master of the sword nod in approval of skill with the blades as we danced across the grass at one another.

He caught me.
Dancer flew out of my hand and as he homed in for a strike to my neck. I jerked out of the way just in time, and planted a barefisted blow to his jawbone and jarring his elbow. His sword fell to the ground as he reeled back. I picked it up and attempted to shatter it against a nearby rock. Rather than shatter, it melted into a flattened piece of dull tin foil like substance. It was rather useless. I cast it aside and picked up Dancer. He scowled at me and darted into the shadows.

I took a step back, and the grass was gone. A snake bit into my thigh and I fell back off of a cliff, barely catching myself on the ledge. My grip weakened and I dropped.

I awoke in a large atrium or mall of somekind. The ambient sound was very busy, very ... neutral. I came to my feet and a staff found itself in my hand. I looked towards where it had been launched or thrown from. There was the taller Tom standing there with a staff all the same, and he beckoned me to come to him. I threw the staff down refusing the challenge, and he shrugged and launched his own at me as he ran towards me, grabbing the one I had cast aside.

The ambient sound increased several times over as eyes turned towards us. Each new attack was different, unknown, unpredictable. I barely managed to hold my own against him. He took a last swing and I lept into a backflip landing to my feet with staff pointing directly at him. He came at me again, knocking my feet out from under me. I flowed with the movement, using the extra momentum to flip my own staff out at his feet and did a kickflip back to the ground as I cracked the staff against his skull. The sensation of 'wow ninja' was incredible. I actually felt kickin' rad. He was beaten. Everyone clapped and cheered as I held the staff and arms out and threw my persona off at the audience. Strangely enough, there were three mexican's bowing their heads and waving at me.

The audience faded and the room turned blood red, with the ambience of a white noise generator with the flooding of pure loving emotion. My eyes jerked out tears and I began sobbing uncontrollably, curled into the fetal position in a circle of dark red, frightened. Although the presence was warm and protecting, I still felt frightened and continued to cry. The tears stopped, a gentle hand wiped them away.

A bright figure stood infront of me, although I could not bring myself to meet it's eyes, or even tell if it was male or female. It's hand nudged my chin and I heard the words "MAKE READY!" and I deflected a blade with Dancer as it shot right through the bright figure as it disappeared. I heard a blood curdling snarl as it struck again, and again, and again. I was only barely able to deflect the last one and felt a blade cut across the top of my left pinky finger.

My eyes still wet, I felt a passion of love, and an equivocal fury flush through me like a tsunami and I felt an energy wave flow out from my body as I lurched towards the shorter Tom (as I could now see). I saw his eyes spark the sensation of fear as he tried to deflect my attack over and over again. The surroundings turned into more of a hallway with large boulders strewn around it. A sensation in my chest kept me going, as it felt as though my honor was at stake here if I did not finish this here and now. He turned tail to run, and I threw dancer with a deadly accuracy that I thought was only reserved for special effects in movies, pinning him to a wall.

I bolted up behind him, whispering into his ear, something which I cannot remember, but I remember his eyes quivering in naked fear. I released the sword from his clothing, dropping him to the ground and he ran off looking back to make sure I was not chasing after him to kill him.

I took a long sigh of relief, shutting my eyes momentarilly to gather the calmness after the storm. When I opened my eyes, I was on a stage, in a costume. I began to sing as though I was the lead, with a cigarette hanging out of my mouth the entire time. It was a pseudo operatic techno piece (however the hell that works!). I sang from the very depths of my soul, recieved a standing ovation (don't remember much of this part at all!) and then I found myself walking down a dark path.

My hand was clasped in another's gentle hand. Although I could not see who it was, I felt the presence of love. I looked straight ahead, hand in hand, and as we walked down the dark path, things lit up around us as the path slowly revealed itself to us.

I awoke feeling as though I could choke on my own tears, but I had a smile on my face as I got out of bed to head to the shower. And I must say, today was an incredible day.

Thursday, December 7, 2006

Dreamscape 7/26/05

I had the dream again. One that I only remembered because I found my signature in the same book that I had signed several years ago. The palace, which is what I will refer to it as from here forward, consists of several thousand rooms. It's the equivilent to a maze, but it's very easy to get out---but very, very difficult to get in.

The maze, I believe, is my subconscious way of saying that it's hard to get into my head. I think.


I'm moving. I'm not moving myself though. As I look up, I see that I'm in a large vehicle. Not necessarily in it, but on it. I'm sitting on a tank. Why am I holding a fully automatic rifle? I put it down and pull out a pistol instead. The streets are busy. I want to think it's Branson Missouri--and in a way, it just might be. The feel of it is proper. I've been here before, and I know that I've been here before.

The entrance is just ahead, I can see it, but I can't make out the words on the sign. As I come closer they become more garbled, almost as if pixelated. I put a bullet in the sign out of frustration. My eyes are better than that, and that makes no sense. Especially since I can read the fine print of "must be this tall to enter" on one of the doors across the channel. The tank drives through the doors that open for it, and as the tank pulls into the parking/landing pad, the driver gets out. A friend of mine from a long time past. He nods curtly, withdrawing from the tank with his own automatic rifle in hand. No uniform--as I notice I'm not wearing one either.

I ask him what the plan is here, and he only responds with a quote that I'd learned to hate, then learned to accept a long, long time later. "Do what you like." I visibly twitch at this, but I say nothing. It's not my place anymore. We both step off of the tank, and he throws the keys to the valet park people as we enter through the doors adjacent to the pad.

Inside is the largest corridor you'd ever imagine seeing. It's walls tall. It's ceilings and floors wide. The path long, and seemingly unending. My friend takes the first few steps, as I start immediately after. We both smash our faces on an invisible wall. Turns out it's the best painting we've ever seen, and we're really in a very small corridor. We shrug at one another and I lead to the right. He taps me on the shoulder and hands me my rifle, stated that I forgot it. I shrug again and put it around my shoulder. We keep walking both groaning about our faces.

We find the door and enter. Omonia Square, Athens. My friend (we'll call him Byron from here forward) looks rather confused. Befuddled. I know this place. Hell, I miss this place. I wish I could go back. Maybe this means I wish I could take my friends with me to help them share and bask in the splendors of the place. I turn to him and explain that I know where we are, and to follow me.

Byron and I walk down the main avenue for probably two miles when we find the place that I didn't know I was looking for until I found it. It looks like a small internet cafe on the outside. We step inside, and all there is is a couple of ropes. We both attach harnesses to ourselves, and latch on to rapel down.

It's a long, long drop. Whenever we would think it was the end it would just open more. Like an endless pit. Not one of darkness though. Every time we pass something, Byron looks more and more confused, and I look more familiar with my surroundings. We keep going. Down, down, down. Suddenly the ropes cut. We both begin to fall. Our control is gone. What do we do? Nothing. There's nothing to do. It looks as we're about to die.

Byron looks at me and calls me by name. "I love you Bro." Is all he says before he ignites into flame. I say nothing. I can't say anything. There's nothing to say. My vocal chords refuse to work. A tear runs down my cheek as I fall silently down into the abyss, watching him burn brighter and brighter, silently. I hear something behind me. There's a noise. Something familiar. I turn to look at it, wiping the tears from my eyes.


I wake up. I remember this place. I wiggle my toes, knowing that considering how long I fell, I had to have been moving at least 30-50mph. The only question is why was I not dead? Was it a dream? Did I imagine it? I get up and look around. I feel my skin go white as I see a smoldering blackened carcass. I walk slowly over to it and look. Byron's eyes open as wide as the day is long and he gasps for air at me, and reaches out his hand for me, but I jolt back out of shock and he barely misses me as he suddenly falls silent.

I don't know how long I sat there next to him and cried. It could have been minutes, hours, or even days. But it felt like an eternity. I looked around again in the green grasses. I realize that it's just the way of this place fertilizing itself. It seems that nobody ever gets past this part. As I look around more closely, I see bones. Old bleached bones of not so many, but far too many people.

I stumble out through what I see as an exit to this grove. Beyond it I see an immense chasm. In the middle there is a floating platform. On the sides I see fine groves and greeneries very similar to what I stand in. As I look more closely at the platform, I think I see something. I pull out a pair of binoculars to check. I don't believe what I see. I look again, and this time he looks back. It's... me... One eye pure red. A dark red that you would think that it would only exist in the deepest of Dante's levels. The other, a light blue, almost sky blue, but unbelievably bright, almost like an arc welder. He looks at me deeply. I'm suddenly paralyzed. He begins to float up into the sky, holding his arm out in my direction. Suddenly I'm floating over to him, although more like psychokinetically grabbed and pulled over in a very unkind manor.

He looks at me deeply again, almost as if he's scanning every part of my mind. Looking for something that he cannot find. Or maybe he did find it. He punches me square in the mouth. Picks me up without touching me, and kidney punches me. For the next few moments he treats me like his own private punching bag, and then he drops me on the ground.

"You wouldn't listen to me when I you needed me. So maybe I no longer need you." And he hits me again. His eyes seem to glow even darker, yet brighter (per eye) at the same time, which seems impossible. "Look at this place, and what you have wreaked!" He holds my head up to look at the greeneries, and points me back to Byron's body. I understand why it's all so green now. I begin to convulse.

The world shatters around me. I seek to end it all. Make the silence come. When he turns his back for a moment, I lunge myself off the platform, into the darkness. I fall for what feels like an eternity. My fall is broken abruptly, and without warning. The ear shattering "Crack" that I hear and feel when I land causes me to scream out in pain.

I hear nothing. No echo. No stir of leaves. No bugs. No wind. Just... silence. I can hear my heart beat, I can hear my hand grabbing my shattered shoulder and collarbone, ignoring my bleeding face. I am in an old room. A very old room. Seemingly 19th century. Maybe something that you'd expect in an old mansion somewhere. The silence is earshattering itself. I grunt and groan trying to get to my feet.

"SIT YOUR ASS DOWN!" I hear from the other direction. I turn to look, realizing that it's far too red from one eye being covered in blood for me to see properly. I recognize that voice. I...

I wake up again. I can see with both eyes now. My arm works, my collarbone doesn't feel pain anymore either. Where did she go? She was here just a bit ago. There's a note on the table. I pick it up and try to open the envelope. It won't budge. I look at the back. It says "To be opened only when you've grown up." It's too bazaar, I struggle with the thin paper envelope for a few moments. It won't rip, tear, or anything. I find a knife and try to cut it. The knife goes dull in an instant. I say to myself out loud, "Talk about a slap in the face."

I get up to leave the room. As I exit the door, I find myself in a lobby. There's another me standing there. This one doesn't really look like me. On account of the tits, long hair, and no show of 'omg man face'. But I can tell it's an odd copy of myself, albeit shorter, and seemingly more fit [At least now I can look back at that and know what it was, in my dream it was just really freaking fucked up and freaky]. She looks at me and says nothing. Goes back to doing whatever she was doing.
There's a man behind the desk. Definitely another copy of me. He's 6'5" at least, on account of being a bit taller than me, and he's gotta weigh about 230 pounds of nothing but pure muscle. He asks if I would like to sign the guest book. I look over to the guest book. It's massive. It has a ribbon bookmark going down the middle, and there's a beautiful fountain pen sitting next to it. I notice that there's only a few signatures in here, and I ask why. He only responds by saying that I would understand later. [Note: I don't remember the other signatures except for three, and those are personal damnit ;o] There were seven signatures, 4 of which I recognized. 1 of which, was my own. I put my John Hancock right there in big bold manuscript. I wonder to myself as to where I learned to write like that.

I take a closer look at the lobby and I realize that the windows aren't really windows at all, but they're doorways to something else entirely. I step through one, and I'm no longer in the lobby, or anywhere close. I'm in another gigantic room. This one seems like a school. It ... is a school. I recognize many of the people here.

I walk around closeby where all of the tables are. Someone calls my name and I walk over to where the sound came from. The conversation is a long and drawn out one about theories of the universe and how to make strawberry jam taste 'purple'. Quite a jump from the norm, but typical. I head into the bathroom since I need to go. There's gotta be several hundred stalls in here. I pick the empty one, and walk in front of it and do my business. Suddenly everyone in there doing their business starts talking to one another. I finish up, and proceed towards the sink to wash my hands.

"Hello." A female voice says.

"Excuse me?" I respond back. Her accent is British. Plain as day, British.

"I need an escort to the erogenous zone."

"WHAT?!" I jolt back in shock. Who the hell is this girl?

"To the erogenous zone, what, I didn't stutter, did I?"

"Uh, no, you didn't." This girl isn't quite drop-dead-gorgeous, but she certainly is quite a looker. I wash my hands while trying to figure out what the hell this is all about. "But why are you looking in the mens bathroom for an escort to the erogenous zone?"

"I was waiting for you."

"Oh." That's about as simple a response as I could muster.

I take her by the hand out of the bathroom, and I let her lead to wherever she was wanting to go. I didn't recognize this place, how should I? Although technically I should, since I've been here before--as per my signature. She drags me through doorway after doorway. Each time we go through a doorway I see something different. Something familiar but distant. Sometimes very close but unfamiliar. Each doorway, as I start to realize where I am. What I've been traversing this entire time. I stop the girl in her tracks, and explain to her what I think I've just figured out. I look away for a second, and then she's suddenly gone.

I'm alone again. This room is a bright orange. I try to look through a window...or a door. But there are none. As I turn around again, there's a huge fucking eye. Staring at me. The orange around it comes up to enclose it as it blinks. The eye comes closer to me, and opens wider, and the pupil dialates. I see the lens shear itself off like a tiny door. I step inside.

Charles DuGalle International Airport. With it's many automatic sidewalks, escalator automatic sidewalks. Hundreds of people flowing through here. The security checkpoints are even more tight than I remember. I go through the security checkpoint myself, and I'm somewhere else again.

This time I just find myself sitting in the front row in front of a sand pit. There's moving sand directly under me. Some guy with an Australian accent comes out and starts talking about the thing under the sand. The way he describes it makes me laugh out loud, and makes everyone else stare at me like I'm an idiot.
"This here is the Large Purple Wurm. It has a 2d10 hit die, and a CR of 9. Thankfully, I'm level 9 meself, so this won't be much of a problem for me. I'm also a fighter, so I've got quite a few feats to use in my favor, whereas the purple wurm you see hea, does not. I have a feat in "jam thumb in butthole", and another feat in "hump dead body"."
I fell to the ground laughing so hard I went into tears. Finally I pulled myself back up, and there was the purple worm, sliced into several hundred pieces, and a chef came out and cooked it while I was laughing. The Aussie was busy humping the rump. Everybody around me was eating. I took a bite of the wurm. Well done. Tasted like snail. Which coincidentally, tastes just like chicken.

A note fell into my plate after I was done. No clue where it came from. "Meet me at the peak after the stars have fallen to us." I look around, wondering who could have dropped it. I asked someone where the peak was. Everyone just started laughing at me. I left, slightly embarassed and walked down the large corridors.

I walked out around this place. Through many more corridors and rooms. The more I saw, the more I realized that this place was much more of a metropolis than I even thought possible. There was so much activity. So many words being exchanged.

I passed by a monestary of some sort. There was a monk meditating out front. He held his left hand out to me and beckoned me forward. I did as he asked. He pointed towards a pillow. I sat down, removing my shoes first. He smiled in thanks to that. His left hand took my right hand, and he held his right hand utmost, to the sky. I shut my eyes, and did the same, albeit more nervous and silly feeling.

I felt my body go limp, but I found myself unable to control anything as I found myself on a bus. I recognized the surroundings. It looked like the Kenyan Wildlife Refuge, Masaii Mara. As I watched out the window, it turned slowly into Nairobi, Mombassa, Lamu, Cairo, Greece, France, London, Ireland, Japan, and then California, New Mexico, Arizona, Texas, Colorado, Kansas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Missouri, Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Tennesee, Pennsylvania, New York, and then it stopped at my house. [Note: I just described this like this, because every place that I just listed, I remembered every memory I remembered, good and bad--almost like one of those "life flashing before your eyes moments, but not so dramatic. It was just much easier to list it this way, because I don't want to spend the rest of my life typing this up.] I stepped out of the bus, not even really knowing why, or how, considering that I couldn't control myself.

A girl came up to me out of nowhere. One I know very well. And one that I wouldn't exactly expect here.

"You're here." She said. "You're at the peak. The peak of your life. Your present. Your current. Yourway of life before the way of your life is done. The life you have after the life you've lived. The life you could have before you even realized that you couldn't have the life you wanted anymore. The life of your life. Your peak."

"I'm where?" I returned--right before I realized that I was definitely at a 'peak'. I was on a tower of some sort. I look out, and I realize that the tower I'm standing on is an eye lash. Over my own eye. It was closed right now.
"Morning is coming. A fresh and new day awaits you. A fresh and new piece of life for you to take. For you to conquer. For you to make into something for yourself."

"You're talking a lot. That's unlike you."

"Time is short. I have to. Before the end." She was speaking very briskly.

"Before the end of what?"

"You know you've been dreaming. You figured that out seconds ago."


"Dreams only last a few seconds."

"But I've spent days in here."

"Doesn't matter. The sun is coming up. Sit, be silent. Watch the beauty as it flows from darkness into light."

The light came over the horizon. There we were, sitting close to one another. I could see the skin of my eye beginning to energize with the sunlight beaming just barely over it. I began to wonder if we were in a safe place, on the end of the eyelash. Once the eye opened.... Although it scarecly mattered at this point. Every tiny fold of skin looked as though it was an individual mountain range as the sun began to rise. Tiny hair folicles from beyound the eye looked like massive trees in the distance. The small pink valley at the edge of the eye was starting to quiver, as though it was experiencing an earthquake. The mountain to my right, my own nose, twitched several times. Twice a hand came from nowhere. Seeming as though it was moving slow, because of the small size that I was right now.

"I felt that."

"You're waking. Don't wake until you see it."

The sunlight beamed straight on now. You could see the oils on the skin that were shoved out during the night, like a natural spring pushes out water.

"I need to wash my face, look at that."

"SSSSH!! Be quiet or you'll miss it."

My eyelid began to quiver. And flutter. I noticed looking around that it wasn't just me and her. But everyone. My parents, my siblings, almost everyone, it seemed. My best friends from long ago were there, each with their significant other. They all turned and smiled, as did everyone else. All looking at me as though they genuinely cared to see this. Almost as if none of them expected to see it at all, but now that they were here, were sure as hell not going to miss it.

My eyelid opened a little bit. And the light glittered like water off of a lake in the early morning. Like the moon over the ocean almost. It was more beautiful than I could ever imagined it to be. [Huzzah for brains and detail! I R FAIL! But I R TRY] The tear drops looked like oceans of dew against a white ball of paint. The little red rivers running through it.

The eye shut again, and opened again, and repeated several times, until finally you could see everything. The eye slowly moved around, looking about. The pupil increasing and decreasing in size, focusing. The cornea, looked as though somebody had painstakingly painted it just for this occasion. From the angle, it looked like the pupil and cornea were a pit underneath the massive clear dome, which is what it was. The cornea was a blue gray, with dark green edges. Some of it looking like the shallow waters of the Mediterranean, and some like the Marianas Trench. The darkness of the pupil was only offset by the sunlight glintering off of the ocean of teardrops cascading in and out on it like a tide.

My eye suddenly stared right at me. How, I don't know. But it did. I felt as though I had just gazed into my very own soul. I looked around, and everyone's smiles faded as they faded. She faded. And then I found myself sitting beside the monk at the monestary.

"You have walked into the most beautiful thing the world could ever imagine. And like many times before, you will walk away, not knowing what it is you have. You will die unhappy unless you discover what your happiness really is."

"What? No--I want to get my degree and help push mankind to the stars."

"No, you do not understand. That is your passion. Not your happiness."

"I'll be happy when I complete it."

"And if you don't?"


"I thought so."

The monk let go of me and I fell down again. My shoes followed. I could see up and I noticed the monk waving. What was weirder, is that I noticed his right palm was exactly like my own. Only one line running across. I landed on something. It hurt, but I was getting more or less used to that. I put my shoes on, and dusted off. The valet park assistant handed me the keys to the tank, with a weird look of wonder, as to where Byron had gone to.

"He's gone."

The Valet nodded, and left. I climbed the tank, and put the keys into the ignition. Climbed out, and left. I left behind my rifle, and my pistol. A few minutes later, I came back for the pistol and tucked it in my pants. Just in case.

The sun was rising over the trees now. It was going to be a beautiful day.

Dreamscape 01/30/06

My rings are missing. Where are my rings? One was just here. Where is the other one? There it is! It's in the bottle. What is it doing in the bottle? I can't reach it in there. I can't get it out. The bottle won't break. The waters are rising. I'm drowning, help me. I can't stop it.
What am I doing home? Where are my rings? My rings are like my focal points. Fissures of incredible amounts of my body's energy, pouring through my focus points. My watch is missing now. Where has the time gone? What has become of my time here? What has it come to? The shining silver of eternity is too far from me. I cannot find it. It is out there somewhere, like oblivion.
It's raining outside. I have Sheri's truck, am I moving? all of my furniture has just been ruined... what was the point of me having it? Where are my clothes? I am cold. My car looks like it's new, but it isn't talking to me. What is wrong with you car? It's raining still. The waters are rising. I'm drowning, help me. I can't stop it.
The sun is shining brightly. My face is being warmed by the brilliant energy. It feels very good to me. Everything is upside down. My cat has one eyeball. She looks like a cyclops. Remnant of experiences past, she now speaks in a british accent and pulls out a clove cigarette to smoke. "What are you doing hanging from the ceiling there, ye ole bloke?" She says. She fades into mist and dissipates, leaving only the strong odor of a clove cigarette.
Electricity is breaking across my room. I am trapped in my bed like a prison. I can't break free. There are bars around it, as though I''m an infant. I do not understand what is going on. The bars turn from a warm oak to a cold steel. They burn to touch. I get frostbite. I scream in agony as gangrene takes over my hands, crawling like a plague across my body. My limbs fall off.
It's sprinkling outside. I wake up to the sound of NPR. It's 0500. What happened? Why is my gun out? It's supposed to be locked away. I check it. It's loaded. I hear a roar from my left. I see only a black figure. I fire 8 rounds. I scream as it falls on top of me, spilling blood all over me. Sweat beads from my brow. I never have 8 rounds in my gun. I never leave it chambered, it's dangerous to do such a thing, even living alone.
It's sprinkling outside. I wake up to the sound of NPR. It's 0500. My gun isn't there. There's an eery silence. The only thing that I can hear is the sound of my cat's purr.
My rings are missing. Where are my rings? One of them was just on my left middle finger. The other on my right ring finger. There they are, on the nightstand.
The glass to my bedroom window shatters and electicity flares around the room as though I'm in the middle of a powerful tesla coil. Everything disintegrates around me. All of my furniture has been ruined. My rings are like focal points, the lightning goes to them instead of me. I lay there, with the smell of burnt hair all over. This stings, and stinks too.
I get up to look in the mirror on my bedroom wall. Why are my eyes so red? Why are my pupils white? There are no answers to my questions. I hear a voice, a booming voice from behind me. I don't understand its language. It frightens me briefly, but I suddenly understand what it is saying, more in understanding of intent rather than words.
My house disintegrates around me. My cat is purring in my arms, protected around the shield. Everything is going away. My neighbors stand around stunned as their houses have all gone away. They are all immediately rebuilt, as everyone just kind of stares at each other blankly, especially at those who sleep in the buff. I thank the cold winter months for my pajamas.
-End Dreamscape
It's quiet outside. I wake up to the sound of NPR. It's 0500. My gun isn't there. My cat is on my lap purring. My rings are where they should be. I look at my watch. Time is still with me. My car isn't talking to me, and never will.
How much more strange can a dream get?

Dreamscape: 04/11/1998

(morning of, since I was waking up)

The darkness was around me like a blanket around a cold and wet animal, except it was the very cause of that coldness. It hurt, burned from ice. I was on the ground shivering and convulsing from being so fridgid.

I tried to stand up, but pain instead erupted from my back, right from the shoulder blades, the edge that goes towards the inside of the back. It wasn't just pain, it was as if my nerves themselves where being slammed with a sledgehammer. My skin split, and then exploded out of my back as I screamed and fell back to my knees head down, arms braced and holding against my stomach. The pain didn't stop, something was coming out of my back, and I continued to scream, the kind of scream you might expect from a woman that is having a child without an epidural. The agony was too much to bear.

It finally stopped, and I opened my eyes, feeling the weight's presence still on my back. I looked very slowly to the left as I watched a bloodied wing collapse to the ground. In shock and terror I tried to move out from under them, but they dragged with me. I realized, looking to my right, that there was another. The were both made of white feathers, with slight shading of gold, dripping with my blood, leaving a trail as I tried to crawl out from under them.

I thought of moving them, and they did so. The moment they quivered at my will, they lifted back up and flapped once, and then the agony started all over again. They started pulling themselves back INTO my back, and this time it wasn't just agonizing pain, I felt tears streaming down my cheeks as I was sobbing and convulsing through the pain that it caused it was too much, begging for mercy to make the pain go away.

Finally, the pain ended. I slowly pushed myself off of the ground, tears still falling off of my cheeks, uneven breathing from sobbing. I sniffled as I shakily picked myself up to walk away, stumbling. Knowing that I had to have lost most of my blood from whatever that was, I knew I needed to get somewhere for help.

An explosive force tore them out of my back again like a fist through a piece of wet paper, and I screamed.

I woke up screaming, and hallucinating (or at least I hope to GOD that was just hallucinations) as I threw myself out of bed, screaming for my Dad to come and save me from the agony, I found that he wasn't there. I managed to crawl into the bathroom and hoist myself up to look at my back in the mirror. There were two winglet stubs slowly pushing themselves back into my back. With that, I screamed from the shock and hit my head against the towel hanger. I woke up a couple hours later on the bathroom floor. I tried to shrug it off as 'it was ALL just a dream' and went and played some Starcraft.

Some people would consider becoming an "Angel" do be an act of the divine. I, on the other hand, found it incredibly painful, horrifying, and well... I hope that I never experience it again. EVER. I still have 'phantom pains' on my back.

I also forgot to mention the strange smear of blood on that particular sheet. That's something else that I don't know for sure if it was real or hallucinated, because I found it after I had played a couple rounds of Starcraft.

Dreamscape 12/06/06

This is the most recent of many, I will be diving back into my records for my dreams of the past.....

For a moment I thought I was dreaming, as it felt as though I was covered in corpses. Then I realized, that I was not dreaming. I began to panic as I pushed as hard as I could in every direction I could. The dead weight of what seemed like several dozen corpses piling me down. I finally clawed my way through them, covered... no, drenched... in blood, all coagulated across my skin and what was left of the rags of clothes I was still able to keep my decency with. The smell was awful. It was dusk, so I made my way east towards the moon. I found my way towards a spring, stripped down, and scrubbed my skin clean of the horrid stench of death. Scrubbed the dirt out of my hair, and then lay there soaking in the cool water watching the moon.

I don't know if it was delirium or the insane amount of stress, but the moon appeared to become a sailboat from it's quarter crescent, and it was moving towards me in the water still glowing. The main mast sprouted like a tree from the middle, a sail draped down as though it were satin against the cool breeze on a midsummer's night. A thin glowing figure climbed halfway up the mast, stared me directly in the eyes, beckoning, and then vanished into thin air. As I clamored into the boat, fresh clothing grappled my body, drying me before encircling me in the perfectly fitting clothes. My katana found itself in a scabbard at my belt.

There was a voice calling me to the Captain's quarter's, so I found my way there. There was a full length mirror across the cabin. I could see my hair was long, to my shoulders, curled at the very tips, blonde, with brown on the inside. Well tailored. My eyes were a brilliant blue/gray like a dull glowing sapphire. I hardly recognized myself from the reflection in the water from earlier. The smell of the corpses still lingered every so slightly, making me somewhat queezy. I fought it away and turned from the quarters, not seeing what the voice was, perhaps a figment of my imagination?

As soon as I returned to the deck, I looked over the edge to find not water, but the ground.... far, far below. When I turned around, there was a crew of what appeared to be spirits, all saluting in various different styles, from the hand to head salute, to the arm raised salute, to the arm across the chest, to bowing. Their auras glowed, and I could tell that they were all spirits with good intent, regardless of their background. I formulated my own finger lips, to chest, outwards, and twirled outwards as I also made a half bow back towards them. A blast hit the bow of the ship, incinerating bits and pieces, and killing several of my new crew. I began barking orders in a strange dialect, unknowingly speaking the tongue of the spirit realm. Pieces of the ship morphed into guns, turrets, harpoons, and hell broke loose. I could not tell what they were shooting at, or what was shooting at us, but we were hit amidship and went into a dive. As the ship was close to hitting the ground, the satin sail burst loose and wrapped me up inside of itself.

Once I was free of it, I found myself on the ground. Still dressed in the well tailored clothing, still with sword in hand. I was in the middle of a city. A modern one. I was next door to an old school, so I walked in to see if I could speak to someone to get my bearings. As soon as I walked in, reality shifted. Light changed to dark, metal turned to rust, wood changed to rotten pulp, and the one woman I saw at the desk at the office turned from a well figured woman into a corpse, and then a dried corpse. I blinked, and it all went away. There was commotion, people laughing, playing, talking, shouting. I walked up to a girl I thought I recognized. Mary Beth (girl from highschool... or is it her twin?). She turned smiling, and then her face turned to shock. Recognition perhaps? She threw her arms around me as if she had found a long lost love at last.

She took me by the hand and as we were finding our way up the stairs, a massive crack sound burst from the basement, and boiling water gushed into the floors, burning everyone in sight, cooking those who were too close. I grabbed Mary Beth and threw her onto my shoulders and bolted up the stairs as the water appeared to grab at my feet. I threw my sword out to the window, and it spun in circles, cutting a whole for me to jump through. As I because airborne, I began to fly up and away from the boiling water elemental. I brought her off my shoulders and placed her in my arms. She smiled a genuine smile and kissed me on the cheek.

As I found a place to land, I let go of her and decided to lay on the ground. She curled in the crook of my arm and purred as she slept, nose nuzzled into my chest as I stared towards the perfect moonlit sky. I stared at the moon looking for familiarity, as the mast sprouted from the midship and waved a flag of surrender, then it broke away as though it were falling. I closed my eyes for what felt like a moment and reality had switched again. The girl nuzzled into me was lifeless, eyes plucked out by crows. I screamed in terror and burst to my feet in an instant, drawing my sword in reaction to more sounds from the shadows. They came closer and closer, clawing at my feet and back, having me completely flanked. I sliced into the shadow but it had no effect.

Reality switched back. She was still nuzzled in my arm, fast asleep. I yawned, stretched, stirring her awake. She rubbed her eyes and yawned a toothy yawn, baring near carnivorous fangs similar to my own. She smiled again, and then she turned bone white and pointed behind me. I turned just in time to recieve a very large claw right in the gut. It punctured my entire body, barely missing my spine, leaving me still able to use all of my limbs. I shrieked in pain, and started to pant as shock hit me. There was a glowing white eye, and a glowing red eye staring at me from the shadows. A glow eminated from the ground somewhere revealing a half angel/half demon grinning wickedly at me. Screams of mothers and child, with cries of torment, pain, and anguish echoed all around us. I looked towards Mary Beth, and she too had become gaunt. She came close, and as she opened her mouth a black line-flicker-like cloud spilled from it like a poorly animated horror film. White noise made the ambience far worse, overpowering my will, battering me down as all of these screams, and wave upon wave of pure emotion swept over me. The claw gripped itself around my spine and pulled, snapping me literally in two.

I awoke, screaming like a scared young schoolboy who had just gotten punched in the nose by the school bully for the first time. Mary Beth was there, trying to calm me down, running her fingers through my hair, smiling, and comforting me against her breast. She sang softly to me until I fell asleep again. I dreamt of happiness, of safety, and comfort. When I awoke, I found myself curled around her protectively. I kissed her softly on the neck to wake her, she turned and smiled at me. We laid there a while longer before we got up and began walking. After a short walk, a car was parked around a bend through the valley. I climbed into the drivers side as she climbed to the passenger side.

We drove towards the main road, where it began to act as though it were a jump rope. The screaming sounds suddenly returned. My back teeth began cracking into pieces. As I drove, she pulled the pieces out, bit by bit, and inside one she found a tiny scroll. As she read it, the darkness faded and sun rose from behind the clouds. She smiled at me again, and I smiled back, our eyes dancing with one another's. A mighty roar shattered the glass, leaving us protected only because it was safety glass. I slammed the car into a lower gear and gunned it, driving only on what I could see through the side mirrors as far as lines. Our car darted into the woods where we slammed into a tree. We both climbed from the wreckage mostly unscathed, when the mast from the moonship fell from the skies and killed us both.

I awoke next to this same beautiful woman, kissed her on the neck, and left her room. As soon as I had shut her bedroom door, I awoke in my bathroom. Door shut. (This time I was actually awake, and standing in my bathroom in my jams). x_x

Part night terror, part nightmare, part sleepwalk, part grandeurish dream. Zyrtec apparently causes slight halucination and schizophrenia. I wasn't able to silence the traces of voices in my head until I wrote all of this down earlier today.
Halucination > Allergic sneezing fits, so I think it's a great trade off.