The bathroom was a terrible place to be. All the stall doors were slightly ajar and the terrible placement of the typical office fluorescent lighting gave the shadows life that they certainly wouldn’t have possessed on their own. I kept turning back in terror from what I assumed was a malevolent face in the handicapped stall. The wall by the sink provided me something to look at to occupy my mind, but this too became a source of vile fascination. Whether the talk was all in my mind or if there was someone there I do not know. Kindly and reassuring it spoke to me of demons, and angels, and paths to power sometimes being fraught with dangerous-looking things. There was no need to worry though of course, not if you were prepared. Read the rest of this entry »
So I remember just enough of my dreams to merit writing them down. The reason I remember is because I was awakened by a combination of the cat scratching loudly at the door for breakfast, and the very last bit of the dream (which I’ll get to momentarily).
Going in list form because I don’t necessarily remember big details.
Several people were standing outside the mill building where I work, and I didn’t really recognize most of them.
I seemed to be viewing this through the eyes of a girl who was on the ground, but was also the “camera’s” focus at times.
People were throwing small objects on the ground with video game-esque results. Items like cherry tomatoes tossed to the ground to be mixed with something I think they called bitter acid. Where it then turned into 3 or 4 seperate items (one of which included a whole smaller tomato and a somewhat squished smaller tomato).
Girl-on-the-ground seemed to be our alchemist here. She also seemed to be captive by a large, angry, rather unattractive man.
It appeared she was voluntarily mute. She defied him by not giving him the right results of the tomato alchemy, or handing him something that wasn’t what he wanted.
Somewhere in here, she apparently felt as though she could make an escape, so she did. However, it appeared that at least one of her legs didn’t work so she was dragging herself as fast as she could by walking forward with her hands and dragging her body behind. (Which she was good at.)
Little moments betray that her legs do work, at least some of the time. It’s never understood why she doesn’t walk or run.
She flees across the bridge and over into the other part of the mill building, which seems to be part mill building and part fancy house… thing.
He is following inexorably behind, taking a kind of Pepe LaPew approach, quick but not so fast that she doesn’t have an opportunity to feel like she mgiht actually be able to hide somewhere.
A door looking like an understair (no stairs there, though) cabinet has a knob low enough for her to reach without getting up. She looks around for her pursuer, and not seeing him or hearing him close enough to tell for sure where she went, she drags herself quickly into the nook and shuts the door.
Despite a lack of lights it’s not totally dark in the cubby. She drags herself to the far corner, behind where the door opens into the space (even though I think she opened it outward) and gasps raggedly, trying to catch her breath and be silent at the same time.
Moments later the door opens inward, and his face slides in, turning immediately to face her in her corner.
A little fuzzy here but no force seemed to be used to extract her from the space.
Trying smaller doors within the cabinet revealed someone’s pantry to her.
Vauge confusing images of urban exploration type areas go here.
There was some kind of gathering to which both Ugly Guy and Crawling Girl were to attend.
There was a decent-sized audience, in a hotel conference room sort of setup, with fancy dinner chairs. I think it might have been a dress-up film affair.
People start smoking in the back of the room. This causes a wave of coughing to ensue and complaints to be issued.
At some point in all this, A HORRIBLE CLOWN MONSTER APPEARS! (FIGHT, ITEM, MAGIC, RUN)
People seemed to scatter. There was much mayhem. Some Beetlejuice-esque antics, with items turning traitor and scaring people witless.
Fuzziness here.
And of course, the last thing I remember before I woke up. The girl who had been dragging herself by her arms was bying taunted by this horrible clown beast. (Who was visible, invisible, in other forms, and generally everywhere at once, I might add.) He was trying very hard to make her afraid, weak and helpless. Part of what prevented him from attacking her outright was it seemed she needed to make a wish first. Once that wish was fulfilled, he would have his horrible, monstery way with her. Slowly, slowly she stood up on her own, trying to be steady and collect her thoughts.
Friends who had been run off the scene because the buggy thing they were in ran amok with them in it, finally came back on the scene after regaining some measure of control.
They arrived just in time to see the following:
The girl stammered “I wish… I wish… I wish…. I wish I’d stop saying I wish.”
Her eyes widened with horror, and frantically she searched about for help.
“NO! That wasn’t me who said that! He made me say it! He was moving my mouth!”
As she says this, the horrible (total Stephen King’s mini-series Tim Curry style IT) clown beast is revealed to indeed be holding her jaw, as he’s practically wrapped around her like a cloak.
These friends look on in horror, as the horrible clown monster pulls back his lips to reveal jagged, shark-like teeth, which he then sinks into the back of our heroine’s neck greedily.
(I seem to recall at some point there was a mention of it being more of a “mana” stealing, rather than a devouring, so this was more of a vampire type bite, chomping in to get the best blood flow going.)
Then I woke up and the cat was beating the crap out of my bedroom door. Then end.
I think I’ve been listening to too much Röyksopp lately. For context, I’ve found myself highly enamored of a certain track off their album The Understanding called “What Else Is There?“. It features vocals provided by Karin Dreijer Andersson from an electronica duo called The Knife (whose album Silent Shout has also been on repeat a lot for me) and I have fallen in love with her unique and expressive voice.
That being said, on the with the description. I was in this housing area, all cheap houses, run down and small. Looking on from a short distance, I saw a huge explosion rip through 3 or 4 of the buildings, seemingly at random. I looked to my companions (who defy description right now, just some people, I can’t remember) and ran towards the damage. I’ve dreamt almost this same thing before, I know it. Sudden fire in run down houses, or an explosion followed by fire. It was chewing up the old, dry buildings.
Then it all reset. Same place, no explosion, none of that. I rode in the mind of someone sneaking through these projects, tiptoeing by back doors and noticing as they all swung open by themselves. Screen doors, all, and cats of different kinds peering out from kitchens or living rooms. Sometimes there were people within, all walking away, not noticing that the door was open. The creeping person was a thief and although no entry was made into any of these houses, the big black bag s/he carried filled up. A small rip showed a blue and white striped piece of terry cloth sticking out. Perhaps the dishes wrapped in the towel to prevent noise? Who knows?
Finally coming to an unremarkable house near the end of the rows, the thief enters and discovers an old man and a fluffy white cat. There’s a moment of mutual surprise, then the cat makes a mad dash for the open door, and the thief follows, trying to track it down through these houses while still remaining silent and unseen, still carrying the full bag. The cat dashes under buildings built off the ground, and finally the thief is able to cut it off at an awkward turn near a wall and snatches the beast up, dragging it back to its master.
There’s a short conversation after that, and the old man says he’s not going to rat out the thief. The thief cautions that there may be some dangerous activity.
Cut to a group of about five or six people. Storm clouds are high, thready, and getting darker, turning the sky to a psilocybin vision of broadly patterned marble. The people are holding onto what appears to be the female end of extention cords, which are all tangled together and tied to a central location, looking to be pipes coming out of one of the houses. They stretch the cords into the road, fanning out in an uneven manner over about a 180° area. A stroke of lightning comes down slowly, almost like a weighted streamer: straight down, but wavering in the air. It is viewed from the eyes of one of the group before it hits them. The power goes through the cords and infuses the others. One by one they begin shouting, calling down the lightning on themselves, despite the presence of others on the scene insisting they stop (but too afraid to act).
There was only one left, hesitant, stupid, afraid of the lightning. The others had disappeared, disintegrated or wandered off or something. The one left walked away. It may have come back to the explosion at that point but I don’t recall.
Other points which are unclear to me now:
Pulling a large revolver on someone who wanted to come into a house where I lived. It was large and dull and akward.
Yelling and throwing things at a group of young, grinning hooligans who heaped things in the middle of the yard and doused it in gasoline, intending to set fire to the whole property
Counciling a very angry young man, sharing tales with him. We were both in Civil War era dress. I slowly went from persuading him to stay, to comforting, to seducing. Anything to distract him from this blind fury.
A master/husband type figure appearing during the “seduction” phase, unperturbed by the scenario.
Also, for your convenience here are the lyrics to “What Else Is There?”
It was me on that road
But you couldn’t see me
Too many lights out, but nowhere near here
It was me on that road
Still you couldn’t see me
And then flashlights and explosions
Roads end getting nearer
We cover distance but not together
I am the storm I an the wonder
And the flashlights nightmares
And sudden explosions
I don’t know what more to ask for
I was given just one wish
It’s about you and the sun
A morning run
The story of my maker
What I have and what I ache for
I’ve got a golden ear
I cut and I spear
And what else is there
Roads and getting nearer
We cover distance still not together
If I am the storm if I am the wonder
Will I have a flashlights nightmares
And sudden explosions
There’s no room where I can go and
You?ve got secrets too
I don’t know what more to ask for
I was given just one wish
Note: These are just what I found online, I know there is a verse or two missing and maybe a few lines wrong. Care to help me flesh that out?
This morning my mother copied to me via IM an email or a page she had found. Within contains the most complete list of paranoias, hoaxes, wishful thoughts, and general falderall ever generated via email chain letters. It is a tremendously entertaining read and I absolutely have to share with you all. Oh, and if you don’t digg, del.icio.us and put this on your facebook then bad luck and extreme misfortune will infest your pathetic soul for all eternity. Bill Gates told me so. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!
This is pretty cute and I thought you’d get a few healthy chuckles from it. :) I just want to thank all of you for your educational emails over the past year. Thanks to you, I no longer open a public bathroom door without using a paper towel. I can’t use the remote in a hotel room because I don’t know what the last person was doing while flipping through the adult movie channels. I can’t sit down on the hotel bedspread because I can only imagine what has happened on it since it was last washed. I can’t enjoy lemon slices in my tea or on my seafood anymore because lemon peels have been found to contain all kinds of nasty germs including feces. I have trouble shaking hands with someone who has been driving because the number one pass-time while driving alone is picking your nose (although cell phone usage may be taking the number one spot) Eating a Little Debbie sends me on a guilt trip because I can only imagine how many gallons of trans fats I have consumed over the years. I can’t touch any woman’s purse for fear she has placed it on the floor of a public bathroom. Yuck! I must send my special thanks to whoever sent me the one about poop in the glue on envelopes because I now have to use a wet sponge with every envelope that needs sealing. Also, now I have to scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason. I no longer have any savings because I gave it to a sick girl (Penny Brown) who is about to die in the hospital for the 1,387,258th time. I no longer have any money at all, but that will change once I receive the $15,000 that Bill Gates/Microsoft and AOL are se nding me for participating in their special e-mail program. I no longer worry about my soul because I have 363,214 angels looking out for me, and St. Theresa’s novena has granted my every wish. I no longer eat KFC because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers. I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a water buffalo on a hot day. Thanks to you, I have learned that my prayers only get answered if I forward an email to seven of my friends and make a wish within five minutes. Because of your concern I no longer drink Coca Cola because it can remove toilet stains. I no longer can buy gasoline without taking someone along to watch the car so a serial killer won’t crawl in my back seat when I’m pumping gas.. I no longer drink Pepsi or Dr Pepper since the people who make these products are atheists who refuse to put ‘Under God’ on their cans. I no longer use Saran wrap in the microwave because it causes cancer. And thanks for letting me know I can’t boil a cup of water in the microwave anymore because it will blow up in my face…disfiguring me for life. I no longer check the coin return on pay phones because I could be pricked with a needle infected with AIDS. I no longer go to shopping malls because someone will drug me with a perfume sample and rob me. I no longer receive packages from UPS or FedEx since they are actually Al Qaeda in disguise. I no longer shop at Target since they are French and don’t support our American troops or the Salvation Army. I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial a num ber for which I will get a phone bill with calls to Jamaica , Uganda & Singapore and Uzbekistan I no longer buy expensive cookies from Neiman Marcus since I now have their recipe. Thanks to you, I can’t use anyone’s toilet but mine because a big brown African spider is lurking under the seat to cause me instant death when it bites my butt. And thanks to your great advice, I can’t ever pick up $5.00 dropped in the parking lot because it probably was placed there by a sex molester waiting underneath my car to grab my leg. I can no longer drive my car because I can’t buy gas from certain gas companies! If you don’t send this e-mail to at least 144,000 people in the next 70 minutes, a large dove with diarrhea will land on your head at 5:00 PM this afternoon and the fleas from 12 camels will infest your b ack, causing you to grow a hairy hump. I know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of my next door neighbor’s ex-mother-in-law’s second husband’s cousin’s beautician… Have a wonderful day… Oh, by the way….. A German scientist from Argentina, after a lengthy study, has discovered that people with insufficient brain activity read their e-mail with their hand on the mouse. Don’t bother taking it off now, it’s too late.-
No names have been changed, but appropriate links have been provided to appropriately ID the other participants in the conversation. Where no appropriate link could be found, the name has been omitted. Some cross-talk has also been omitted, since it doesn’t make quite as much sense out of context as it would with much more text. Rather than retell the story, again, in another format, I figured just sharing this with everyone would suffice.
I was standing outside in the back parking lot of my apartment building with some people, talking about I don’t even remember what. It was night time approaching early morning and rather cloudy. All of a sudden there was a noise in the air like dozens of planes. Flood lights popped on to periodically illuminate green (like the old copper on Lady Liberty) planes of a sort I don’t even suspect could really fly. Rather than having a wing perpendicular to the body, or two as with a bi-plane, there was one wing suspended away from the body in a parallel that extended slightly beyond the body of the plane on all sides. While I was busy being confused-bordering-on-fearful about it all, one of the planes swooped low and banked hard over our building once or twice before dropping a bomb that rocked the very air around. Everyone outside was knocked down, including myself, but I looked up to discover the damage was mostly to the third floor, but there was a fire. I pushed myself off the ground in a rush. I nearly went right back down to the ground from the immediate dizzy spell, so I half-ran and half-crawled to the badk door, struggling to get the key in the sticky lock and charge up the stairs. The next thing I remembered I was waking up next to my beau. It was early in the morning, the apartment was a mess, and it took me a moment to realize what had happened. I’d gotten to the apartment and passed right out. Why he was there, seemingly undisturbed, I don’t know. I can’t remember if I woke up on the floor or in bed. At this point, a frantic search for the people outside occured, turning up everyone who had been there, plus extra. Rushing up the stairs, the damage was awful but no fire was raging. Heading back down to the lot showed everyone was either up or getting up. There was some outside source who didn’t believe in the bombing, at which I nearly lost it. The planes had been there! Everyone else saw it, too! It was a short lived argument for whatever reason, and next I was looking to help one of my neighbors who was mysteriously also one of my co-workers. He’d lost a lot in the explosion and I was going to offer to store some of his stuff while he tried to rebuild/relocate. The beau wasn’t too happy about that and was probably less happy when neighbor/co-worker started making up the couch as if to stay there.
Before, during, or after all that, I was somewhere public with a little watch on a chain attached to my collar. Just a little clip on thing, and it also had a pink teddy bear charm. I found out during the course of the speech I was listening to that there was a culture of dominance and subserviance which relied on such indicators to show who was who. Sure enough I look across the room just in time to spot the short haired girl with the animal collar riddled with charms just like my little pink bear. I didn’t get my watch out of sight fast enough and she came over to me. Subserviant though she was, she was clearly a leader in her circle. I tried to explain that I didn’t know, and it was a mistake. The girl only smiled at me knowingly and proceeded to evaluate the quality of the bauble hanging from my shirt collar (or did I have on an animal collar as well…). I remember a couple arguments between some same sex couples where I hyperfocused on their faces, as well as the start of another event/scene/thing, but not clearly enough to make the transition.
that’s all.
Never fear, gentle reader, the fire department is here, and I assume this is minor since I'm sitting right at the window and they didn't tell me to get out.
It would seem the lady across the hall from me fell asleep while some kind of fire-related action was occuring. Knowing her, probably smoking a cigarette. The only reason I knew there was an issue was because the lady from across the way poked her head out and asked if I need help. To which I puzzledly replied “uhmm… I don't think so…” At that point she informed me that there was smoke coming out of the window next to me. Oh. Well. I had no idea. I've had a stuffed nose for 3 days now and it wasn't enough for me to see it at the angle I'm at.
So I poked my head out the door to note thin, black coils of smoke coming from out the top of next-door-lady's door. Ah ha. Well, I called 911 and when they patched me through the lady at the fire department said “yep, they're on their way”. Some help I was.
So Now I'm sitting here, with 2 fire trucks outside, and 2 cop cars flashing outside, and a mix of unhurried but seemingly very important activity. I'm a bit bewildered as to whether or not I'm actually in danger at this point.
So now, because I can't think of anything else important to say or report….
kuro5hin.org posted a story yesterday that at first made me laugh, then made a minor amount of sense, then made me cluck my tongue in irritation with this country's rampant paranoia.
To paraphrase, TRON contains scenes of a former government testing facility. The scenes they're talking about are the “real world” ones with all the intense lab equipment strewn about. Showing this lab equipment, which is apparently the actual lab equipment that was used at that facility, is a potential security breach.
In a move that I can only describe as “shutting the barn door after the horse has run out”, the DHS is going on a crusade to sieze all copies of the movie. In addition to writing Disney a huge nasty-gram, they have also been sending nasty-grams out to film retailers large and small.
Thankfully, there was some dissent among the working class, even if Disney officials were scared to say anything.
Government conspiracy to undermine our morale in subtle ways? Disney plot to move a copies of TRON?
YOU DECIDE!
Some kids play in the sandbox. We play in the.... litterbox??? The RKNet staff is pleased that you decided to stop by. Currently this is a 1 author project, with periodic guest posts. Contact giania [at symbol] gmail.com if you'd like to play here to.
