dreamstate writing 15 May 2018

During one of this morning’s dreams, I and a handful of other entities were on our way to the airport to board a flight. On the way, we stopped to go hiking on a path that ran alongside a tall, vaguely circular, wooded mountain that looked strongly familiar. In order to reach the lot where we’d parked our car, we had to pass through a long tunnel, which featured a roofed bulletin board  from which paper message and bags that people had forgotten were hanging.

Recognizing a white canvas bag as one my father used to own, I lifted it off of the wooden peg from which it had hung and opened it up, rifling through the contents. Out came reams of loose papers as well as a few old-fashioned photographs. The latter I kept turning over in my hands until I could see the images they bore, mostly poor-quality pictures of my siblings and me in our youth sitting amongst our parents in darkened rooms.

Suddenly, I became aware of a large and threatening shadow-shape lurking under the steel walkway that lead through the tunnel. My initial attempts to flee were thwarted by my companions, who soothed my fears. Then, during the same or a subsequent dream, I heard with my waking ears someone that sounded just like my deceased mother say my first and middle names, to which I responded, aloud, with, “Hi, mom.”

[ americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan ]

dreamstate writing 11 April 2017

I had climbed into a rail-mounted, bullet-shaped carriage in order to visit a subterranean Harry-Potter-themed attraction. With me in the carriage was another entity, a male figure who has been for the last couple of nights leading me through massive hollow structures that are poorly lit and full of shadows. The structures remind me of abandoned airport terminals. I encounter few other entities in these massive structures. The shadows, however, are often alive with fearful and stunted figments that follow me, tracking my movements.

The carriage had stopped at the door to the attraction. A backlit panel displayed the logo and name of the attraction as well as a clock showing the minutes left until we could enter. Feeling confined and cramped in the suddenly tiny space (my head and torso had been bent backward on the way into the narrow tunnel), I had jumped out, whereupon I found myself on a flat plain lit as if by a full moon shining in the sky on my right-hand side. Dead trees and ruined buildings stood upon the plain, their outlines at times pixelated, at times clearly defined. To my left was a three-storey building, dark, decrepit, scary.

A few hundred meters in front of me was a line of tall buildings that appeared to form the boundary of the plain. A shadow moved there, jet-black eyes winking open in a jet-black body. It oozed swiftly my way, flitting from shadow to shadow. As it came closer it took the shape of a giant dog. Panicked and full of fear, I cast about for a way to escape the bounding beast’s gnashing jaws. I noticed an open door in the collapsing building to my left but resisted the urge to leap through it. Instead, I lifted my right arm. The shadow-dog grasped my right hand in its mouth but its teeth found no purchase, and no matter how hard it whipped its head around, it could do me no harm.

americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥