The Dead

I walk into a barn. I am having a nightmare. Why am I shaking? Why do I feel a desperate need to pull out of reality, to some alternate world? These feelings begin faintly, almost unnoticeable at first. I cross the threshold. It is dimly lit in the barnhouse. The cow stalls are empty. Life has fled from the old place. Something draws me in, while yet something elsewhere beckons me away. The former something, though, is stronger, and I enter in full curiosity. Words are entering my head, eager to escape audibly into the stale air of the small barn. They are not English, nor are they any language I have ever heard before then. It was from beyond. The shaking increases, the need to pull away is shooting upward inside. I speak. I shout. The words I say are completely strange to me. This is when three, then four, then five or six men rush into the room. "Stop! Stop speaking!" The shuffling sound of the hay on the ground against their frantic feet, their screaming voices, are fading away. I see a haze settling and appearing all around the room. "It is the language of the dead!" Figures are forming in the haze, as darkness sets in as well. They are faint figures of old men and women, so very vague, a child or two as well scattered among them. The Dead. Their voices are also growing in volume, and they speak in unison, and in full synchronization to my own speech. They pull me hard as I feel now that there is nothing to be considered but simply getting the hell out of here. And that I did, or so I thought. With one strong final pull of the men on my body, forcing me out of the barn, I also pulled out from the dream. I had escaped. But this is often the hardest part, the scariest, the most frightening, and also always the very most curious. I had indeed escaped the dream, the images of that unreal dimension of the wood barn, the figures, the hay, the men, the windows, but sleep I had not. I was trapped, again, in that place where I can see some other form of reality or dimension, but had (usually) no ability to move. Always do I shake, so very much, from the inside out, frightened beyond measure, a feeling as if my soul were being stolen, and I am striving hard to not let it go. I can see the window in my room, it is, in all waking reality, here just a foot of distance from my hand. I want only to wake up. My eyes are open, but sleep has yet to be overcome. I can see images, such as a person of some form, whether human or otherwise I do not know, standing on my bed, leaning on the window. I must wake up! More shaking, attempting to move my body, never accomplishing.  My eyes will not stay steady; they are out of my control. Then I awake. My eyes already open. Seeing the very same view as that of seconds ago. The window. The blinds. The blankets over my body. But no person. No figures. I can no longer see the Dead.

Boys of Both Sides of Life

When will the so long-lasting trip come to and end? Seriously, are we almost through? Obstacle after obstacle. The final obstacle. This mansion off the side of the road, a long winding driveway to the front door, covered in trees and surrounded by a brick wall swallowed in greenery. There is something creepy about this place, something eerie, beyond the natural. Catch that dog! Shoot. Mom let it go again. I really hate that little beast. It ran straight, without hesitation, through the front door, over the threshold, and up the outside bricks of the chimney. Yes, up the vertical column, as if on flat ground. She chased it inside, a very open structure on the interior. The chimney column, directly beyond the door, shot straight to the ceiling, up 40-50 feet, and out the roof. She ran up the stairs as the dog ran up the wall, I watching from below. The dog then fell down the center core of the chimney, all the way back down to the floor. And that was over. But this house. This mansion. Why are we here? Why is it here? A driving, unstoppable curiosity overtook the whole group of us. What is it about this place? There is something to be discovered, and we will search until it is found out. The feeling was accompanied also be a kind of entrapment. We were stuck here, not allowed to leave. There were no barriers, no stones in the path to leave, but nonetheless, we weren't going anywhere for a time, maybe forever it might seem. It wasn't long before a wrapped paper was found on the front porch. Wasn't there a few hours ago. It is marked with Father's name on it. Someone has set it up for us to be permanent here. They want us to stay. We've got mail.

...People live here. Another family. They were unnoticed until now. Who are they? And why would they live in this crazy ol' place? They speak of spirits and the possibility of the dead living among them. Previous owners? There are spirits in the house. Together we investigate. Brother has computer games that might give us understanding and insight into what to do, two of such. The computer is not working. Where is that little boy, the young child of the second family? Out in the yard, playing in the sand. He is speaking as to another being, but no one is there. Someone is there. He plays with this other boy, an invisible friend. Together they are building a sand castle, as the many of us stand still watching in shock and wonder, I in curious amazement. They are building a sand castle. The boy natural and the boy supernatural are building a sand castle together.

Extraneous

I wonder what this wart-like growth is on my finger. It's been here for many months now and doesn't seem to be getting much larger anymore. Hmmm, I wonder...oh but wait. It appears it has grown! Now that I look at this way, it really has, it is much larger! I have got to get rid of this thing. It could be cancerous, or harmful in some kind of way. I pick at it from time to time until it bleeds, but now I am ripping it open, slicing it from the surface of my body, despite the blood. It seems to have created a crevice into the core of my finger, a large opening that most certainly should not naturally be present. Where does it lead? I dug deeper, trying to open up the deep crack in my finger. The blood had really stopped pouring, and things were surprisingly visible. Pain was, naturally, searing through my finger and hand. I dug on. I see a little something green. ...?... It was some kind of fuzzy green thing originating deep within the crevice. What in the world is that? I dug on. I tried digging it out and pulling it up, but it seemed to retaliate weakly, as if it were alive. I finally got a hold on it (at this point there were a few more green, leafy outshoots, coming from the inners of the finger), and held on to it as I pushed open the crevice to reveal a most disturbing sight. In my finger, deep within the core (really where the bone should have been), lived a tomato, or a spider, or a tomato spider. And these green offshoots were in fact its legs of sorts. It was planted inside me, and the wartness visible on the outside of my body was some kind of outlet for it. It was resting in there, feeding off the nutrients and insides of my very own body. And when I saw it, I felt very shocked, and sick. The spider had a tomato for a body, and green stretchy leaves for legs, and was sitting very attached to me inside my finger. I did not feel well seeing this thing eat away at me comfortably, knowing that he had been in there for a very long time, feasting upon my ignorance. Well, ignorant no more, I pondered no longer, and quickly detached the detestable beast from my inners and ended his hidden dynasty. The mystery of the growth on my finger had been finally solved, and the tale was to told to many others, for the pictures would not leave my mind. In this dream, I was even convinced it not a dream, telling those in it that it were not. There were also two other things found embedded into my skin elsewhere on my hand, upon the discovery of the tomato spider, such as a miniature gas mask. My sister said something about the spider being a mayonnaise animal, whatever that meant. This all happened, and was a very shocking, revealing experience, but as usual, something and somewhere completely foreign and new was my new destination shortly after. I was now playing euchre with the Green family. And that was that.

[there really is a strange growth on my finger that has been there for many months that I have no idea what it is. All day I have been obsessively wondering what it really going on under the surface of my skin.]

Knives

Falling into a dream. I wonder where I'm going this time. A garage, cars parked outside the house, one on the lawn. A party of some kind with a few people is taking its place. Music plays, but it does not sound good at all, just a load of fuzz and non-melodic sounds. Everybody is barely happy, and nothing is really happening, just a lot of standing and miscommunicating. The atmosphere is becoming instantly intense. The heat is building. Darkness is invading. My face is getting very hot, and numb, sizzling with heat. Knives. People are going to start dying very soon, most violent deaths. (I kind of like these movies. This should be sweet.) I can feel it. Can they feel it? Where did they go? I am alone. And I do not like this anymore. This is real. I must escape. But I cannot move. I am bound to the floor of the garage, in the dark. Knives readied to be covered in blood flashing through my mind. I am going to die a most violent death. I can feel them coming. My face is burning hot and tingly. I am in the face of death.

You won't get me this time. Not tonight.

Dogs

bark.

Bark. Bark.

Bark. Bark!

Bark Bark! Bark. BarkBarkbarkBark!

BarkBarkbark BarkBarkbarkBarkBarkBARK! Bark!

BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! Bark! bark! BARK!Bark! Bark barkBARK! Bark!

BARK BARK! BARK! bark. barkbarkbark! BARK! BARK! BARK BARK!

BARKBARKBARKABAKAKKARKRKABKB

AKRABKARKBAKRKAKRK(what?! It's so loud! Stop!)BKABKARK!!

BARKbarkabk! BARK bark! bark! bark! bark! BARK! BARK!

BARK! BARK BARK! BARK! Bark! bark! BARK! BARK! BARK!

BARK BArk! BARK baRK! barK! BARK barK! BarK! BARK!

BARK! BARK!(shut that up!)BARK BARK BARK BARK!! bARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARK! BARKBARKBARK! BARK! BAARK! BARRK! BARK!bARK!barkbkabkark BAKRB ARKE ! BARK ! BARK!BARKBARK!BARK! BARK BARK!

BARK

Morning Delight

It's so early. Why in the world am I up this early. The numbers on the clock shown at first remembered glance: "3:56"[am]. I'm at Denny's snacking on something, and/or sipping some coffee. I am chatting on the cellular telephone, with Cari Joy Sade. This makes for a pleasant morning. We speak of the usual things, moving to California, Sarah's wedding arrangements, feeling as if we were making progress. After a few minutes and into the next hour, it becomes much lighter outside, and people have filled in the restaurant, inside and out. This "people" includes my brother, along with some others not to my personal preference, so I waltz outside, and sit on the garden brick wall outside the front window. There I sat. Here I sit. Why am I sitting here at four in the morning?! A police squad car is approaching, the driver staring steadfast in my specific direction. I hide the marijuana bowl I hold in my hand, hoping only that the cop did not see. Oh good morning Autumn McMillen! What are we doing here on the side lawn of Denny's? "I haven't been in PE in a long time! Not since we were all in it way back when." And whaddaya know, many young kids formed a bad circle here with us, Candy Garcia in the center.

Swallowed Alive

Browsing through the cheap "10$ or less" bin at GameStop with Ernie Villanueva, it is a normal night. I finish looking through them all, and make my final purchases, ready to leave out the door. We walk outside to the street and suddenly Kim is there, in place of Ernie, just as if it had always been that way. But I knew something was up, just not sure exactly what it was that was up there. Where did Ernie go? Where did Kim come from? Woah, hey, that's Jared Cassell with her. As I stand there figuring out which direction  to go, they both take off running, down the sidewalk, under the dark city awnings. "WAIT! Where are you going? Why are you running from me? We need to go this way!" Naturally, I chase them. Kim was nearly dragging the little child as she ran with incredible speed. "What are you doing??" She did not turn, but simply yelled something I couldn't quite make out, "--pissin'---" ....(what?)... Jared turns his head, "Yeah, ---pissing off--all the time-!" ...(WHAT?)... They turn a corner into a dirt construction area between two tall 12 or so storied buildings. I catch up to the turn. Kim is gone, but Jared is still running. "Jared, wait!" It was too late. He suddenly vanished below the earth, into a very deep narrow hole. "C'mon man, let's go!" A group of friends pull up in a car on the back street, urging me to get in the car and go. Nonetheless, I do not hesitate to jump in to get little Jared back. I land about ten feet down, on the side of the ongoing central hole. He is in the deeper part of the hole, and so I reach my hand in as far as I can. I can feel his hand! I grab it and try to pull, but he is sinking farther and farther, and I can no longer reach him. I cannot save him. He is gone.

Jurassic Tours

Just hop in this jeep, this man will be your driver, and you will be headed on your adventurous way! We did so. Myself, and a few other humans with no faces. We drove off into the open fields, the park being a new establishment, recently opened to public amusement. A patch of fresh trees hear and there, and quite a load of nothing but space. The guide drove quickly, appearing as if he were anxiously looking for a proper destination to satisfy our customer expectations, but not quite sure of where he should be looking. Nothing happened except a few bouncy bumps and shifty turns, so really nothing at all. Until we arrived at the first encounter, with a beast. A triceratops. It was an instant battle. The vehicle was hurled in a vicious attack from the side, and flew many yards still upright. The guide then assumed the role of protector, jumping out of the jeep and provoking the unusually oversized dinosaur in his own direction, all the while we stayed sat, seat-belts tight. He spoke not a word, and rather kept the straightest face, glaring at the dino tensely. Some sort of fight was duked out, as we watched intently, until he somehow returned safely and we escaped. But safety was found for but minutes, when it melted into danger at our second encounter, the massive and mighty Tyrannosaurus Rex. This fight occurred mostly around the jeep, as we endured the experience for ourselves along with the speechless tour guide. He did the "fighting," while we remained sat still, tossed and flipped all around, the jeep getting torn and crushed in all directions. The man fought on, and did not give up, or run away, but stayed in the battle with a sort of professionalism. Before we knew it, the "tour" was over, and the battles were one, and all returned to the start safe and unharmed, physically of course.

It was this new park's tour, so termed. To be in the middle of a fight with both of these ferocious jurassic creatures, and come out alive and safe. A shredded jeep for each party of five or less. An experience one could never forget, and would always remember vividly, with fear and excitement.

It's You

"Ready to hear something [awkward situation]?" "Yeah I really am." "I know that you are really in love with a girl right now. And I wanted to say, how can you do that? How can you be this close to me and be like that?" "Uh-uh, uh..."

Evading Death

"Hello everyone. Sorry to keep you waiting so long. It is unfortunate that I have to inform you that you all have to die now."

We sat in wonder and shock at the statement just stated toward all of us. 60 give or take of us were gathered in a school classroom awaiting instructions for the first class of the semester. We were just preparing our minds for a 4-month course, and now we suddenly have to be killed? All of us at once all together? This is absurd. Whatever could the reason be? We were never told.
We moved from this room to the next. Well, not all of us. A few lingered behind, to face their demise, and the rest of us moved on, temporarily escaping the death that has been fated upon us. Yet in this next room, our destination remained the same, certain mass death, a massacre of eerie sorts. A fewer amount of us made it to the next room, by random chance I suppose, still lingering on the edge of death's precipice. Many times this process was repeated, until instantly it was over. Had the moment come? Had Death arrived?

Dome of Van

BAM! BOOM! Fire burst out in a flash of rage as we drove up near. I new there was something about that van that was eerie. But that it would explode just yards in front of my eyes, I was not imagining. Myself and a few others were in a suburban, driving somewhere, when boom bam a white parked van blew up just in front of us. A stale police car drove very close up behind us, as if it were planning to pull us over, then quickly sped by as if we were not even there, and raced around the corner. The squad car soon pulled round on up to the afterburn of the van's explosion. "Wonder what happened..." "...What's going on..." We sort of parked in the middle of a side street to watch and listen to this intense event. Boys on scooters passed us by, completely dark and unrecognizable in the darkness of the night. After a short time, the trivial journey we were previously on was resumed. Back on the freeway now, I was still in shock of the sight just beheld and was speaking quite excitedly about it. But at this point, no one seemed to be quite as excited as I. In fact, they barely agreed with anything I was saying. The site of the explosion was visible in a field at a distance, and as soon as my eyes rebeheld the situation, it was half van, half fire, then half dome. A half-dome charred just in the open end, not a van at all, in a field, not a parking lot at all. Confused. In question of my own memory. We drove on.

Matching Mugs

Two beds in the room. One for me, one for another, most likely the brother. Up late, watching the LCD computer screen, reading books, thinking in the silence, enjoying the lack of light's pollution. Too late before I know it, and the sun is rising. It's 8am! I gotta get some sleep! I am supposed to get up at about this hour! But wait, this picture in this magazine...I know her. By golly, that's Beatrice! She's becoming famous, and I know her! "Look here!" I pull out the yearbook, and frantically turn to the page with her picture on it, a near match of the one in the magazine. Wow. I feel really excited. But everyone is waking up, and it is time to go. Why is no one else as excited as I? Why am I so excited?

Depleting Urgency

Gotta get to school. Gonna be late. Gotta get to school. Got a big test today. Driving as fast as I can. Gonna get a ticket. Are those flashing lights in my mirror? Just reflections of the sun and traffic lights. Speeding. I have no choice. Gotta get to school. Shoot. A cop is trying to pull me over after all. What do I do. Pull over of course. Why am I even asking myself this question? I am convinced I have good reason and that I'll be let off quickly. Or so I am wishfully thinking. I've gotta go. I am already late. But I can still make it in time to take the test anyway. Wish I could do this later. Just not now. Anytime but now. "I am late and have a very important test to take as we speak." It turns out it is just a patrol person that has captured me, driving merely a cart, like a garden cart. Something you would see on a school campus for maintenance purposes. This is getting real dumb real fast. My life is over. My day is shot. No, I can make it. The "policewoman" listens to my pleas, and escorts me to a real policeman, in his car across the parking lot. He ponders giving me a chance. They take all the time in the world to think, of course, seeing that I am in the hurry of a lifetime. He finally decides to send me to the higher-ups, maybe it is even the highest-up. I enter a nearby building, and find a very long hall, and in the center of that hall is that higher-up I had been anticipating, sitting very judge-like in its position (I cannot tell whether it is a male or female, as if it really mattered at this point. I mean, my life is ruined anyway). It is behind a tall podium, on a raised, staged floor. It is the first thing one unavoidably sees upon entering those front doors. I stand there below the authority, so over life and existence, while my fate is decided by just another human like myself. This fate is finally decided.

What is the decision? I'll never know.

Death by Golf

In a parking lot. Matt's car brought us here, meeting a few others, coming together to play the game of golf. Matt, myself, Kristen, and faceless others engage in this sport. It is much more like mini-golf than true golf, comforting to my inexperienced spirit. But before I get a chance to strike my first golfball, it's time to go. Not for them, but only for me. Lori had arrived, and was taking me home or somewhere hours off, for we were currently at some remote place, by a huge river or ocean of water. She had a new truck. New for us, old in age. As I left the golfing grounds to join her, Kristen couldn't help but loudly say, "We don't want him to play anyway, he sucks at this game." This did not not bother in the least. I climbed in the truck, and listened to Lori talk on and on. "...mom and dad move back to America..." I noticed she was driving a little bit crazy, very unusual for her, and the craziness was quickly progressing. Now drifting! from side to side, in the most unlikely and unpredictable fashions! I reached for my seatbelt, and fastened it tight, "You need to slow down." "No worries." Here we go, sliding from this side of the road to that, facing all the wrong directions, yet somehow working our way in the general intended direction. The road was elevated just above and along the shoreline, about 40 feet up give or take. Sliding too close to the edge...back wheels over the edge! "I got it...oh man!" The look on Lori's face finally turned to terror, finally matching the look on my own. A slide this way, a slide the other, and a slide back, and there the small pick-up went. Over the edge! Control has been lost. A perilous plunge is inevitable. The rear tires followed the front into the air. Boosh! A violent crash against the surface of the deep water. What now? I reach for my seatbelt a second time, to undo the action originally done. Lori quickly tries to reverse the vehicle, but this merely plunged the rear end far into the water. We are near facing the clouds in the sky. I attempt at opening my door, reach for the handle, it is difficult to push open. I fail. It's over. For the both of us.

Panda Party

Urgency. New. Learning. Experience. Comfort. I am the boss, but not in name, simply the one who is there, overseeing and being. Emily Greenhouse...Christian Fry..? Two more female others. We are making food. Maybe Panda, yeah I believe it is in fact Panda Express. Go figure. We are working, but I am nearly not, for I don't work here. There is a party picnic outside, for which we prepare. A series of a blur and here I am, working away, preparing dishes, throwing commands around, and being simply awesome. Everyody loves it. Everybody loves us. They all love me.

Astroboarding

Last night I skated on the stars...or planets...I don't know, it's very vague, but every one had their own planets to make home for themselves. And it was wonderful.


---

My dreams have been surprisingly vague lately...which is completely disappointing.

Dreams

What are they?
Where do they come from?
Why are they so strange?
Yet so familiar?
Why are they made up of the images and places and people and events as they are?

This blog will not answer these questions, for no one completely truly can. It may attempt at times. But do not hope for real answers.
No, the purpose here is simply a record, a memoir. It is a hobby of mine to record my dreams, just jotting down a few key words, in hopes of never forgetting the adventures experienced only when lying in a peaceful, unconscious state. That state where your consciousness has moved, from one body in the physical, tangible universe, to another in some unknown land, where things are different, sometimes very different, or not different at all. It is that real place where anything is possible, and nothing is holding anyone back from absolute freedom, a chance to experience something else, alternate lives, alternate situations.

It is that place of else. Other. The extraordinary.

It is my hope that you may enjoy (or taste the fear of, or feel, or experience...) my experiences with me, as I jump out of this reality into another from night to night.