Dreams..
Again, my dream-me resident is visiting Seattle. I cruise around in a turbocharged 1997 Toyota Supra. The highway, the T-tops, the wind... all so calming, so freeing. The rush of the wind blows past my ears and they tingle. The only other sound I hear is the twin turbo's, screaming, whinning, and howling like some sort of crying banshee. The car jumps from 70 to 100 mph in seconds. The exhiliration of the blow-off valve releasing between shifts and the jerk of sudden explosive acceleration is out of this world.
Swerving in and out of traffic like a total douche-bag but whatever, its a dream right? I notice a spiral ascension coming up with speed limits. I do not heed the warning as I usually don't. Limit of 75 MPH is reasonable; I can do it at 100. Too much traffic! I down-shift in a panic and jam the brakes. Narrowly missing a car and the side-wall I come to a steady roll of 80 mph. Regardless, the spiraled part of the highway rises around three or four times. The thrill is still there!
The highway straightens out and a tunnel is up ahead into the mountainside. Fantastic! I immediately become over-excited as I know what turbocharged cars are like surrounded by concrete. The reverberation of sound is like literal orgasm in the ears. I tease the traffic behind me to give myself a little room to breath. Once I get some track ahead of me I down-shift and speed up. Not too fast but 25 pounds per square inch of compressed air is enough to engulf the entire tunnel in hissing and growling. Gorgeous sound, absolutely beautiful.
Eventually traffic comes to a halt. Too many cars, too many people. If only it were night, if only the tunnel were empty... I wait, five minutes, ten minutes, thirty... what is the hold up? The air is getting dense and stuffy. Too many cars, too many people.
Time goes by waiting, teasing the engine, the hissing, the howls; I want it back! I shut the car down and get out to stretch. Moments later a man runs by followed by the FBI (I know this because they were wearings suits?). I quickly grab my camera out of the car and blip it locked with the remote and give chase. What I am expecting I have no idea, afterall, I am bored! (btw, this must be a dream because I would never leave a Mk. 4 Supra sitting and give chase for some dude)
I give chase for maybe half a mile and an explosion brings down parts of the tunnel in front of me. I notice the men chase off into a hole in the tunnel off into the mountain. Interesting, a cave was here lit up by bioluminescent crystals. The ambience is peaceful. Dust floats in the air freshly disturbed. The dust is slightly reflective and sparkles like angellic phantoms. In the end we reach a chamber. The walls crumble down to reveal ancient architecture. Scupltures of religious figures and heiroglyphics.
The man the FBI is chasing seals the chamber, grabs two of the men, and vanish. He leaves me with one FBI agent. The FBI agent throws his arms in the air and plops down and lights a cig. He seems cool and collect just catching his breath. I, being the noob that I am, gawk at the statues, the symbols, and the crystals. It is all so new to me. The agent notices me and says "What a beautiful sight eh?" he is a sort of inspiring man simply by his voice. He has the type of voice that could soothe a serial killer, deep, soft, with a hint of an ebonics accent. He has an air of philisophical brilliance about him.
He asks "any idea what any of this means?" in which I respond "Beats me, how would I know?" We both stare at the statues in silence. I state "You know, some of these parts seem to be lighter than the other. This indicates a shift in color" the statues were all the same relative color and any hint of pigmentation has faded. "Yeah, but that doesnt mean anything" he said "what you should be looking for is a way outta here!"
I shrug and slightly shake my head "Man, any hints at all? Your the FBI, I am just some dude!" "Yeah but your the dude that is going to get me out of here so you better get working on it" says the agent. I can tell he is testing me, he sits and puts one leg up on his knee. He takes a deep hit on his cig and lets it out. He twirls the cig around and looks at it as if deep in thought.
Oh well, best get to work I think to myself. I scrape the statues with my hand to wisk away the dust. The styling is to inricate, so detailed. I move to one section and notice that behind the statue there are many luminescent crystals. I have a feeling in my gut that something is here. The statue is of a woman enveloped in thick armor. The shoulder pads have circles on them as if to grab onto. I grab the statues right shoulder pad and I can feel something warm, the circular part feels hollow and can be seen through, although the vision is obscured by old age. I get closer and the agent gets up, dusts off his knees, and states "Well, I think it is time..."
I wake up and realize that I slept in half an hour. I pick up my phone and wonder why my alarm clock didnt go off. I look at the time and my alarm starts to ring. Is this a dream too? Am I losing my mind? How is it possible that my alarm would go off the instant i look at my phone? I am losing it huh.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Barking Wolves
Dreams.
Dream opens and I am on a dirt bike; maybe 250cc. Smell of 2-stroke engine and gasoline. Cold, damp, foggy, and rainy day. I am miles away from my house. Soft misting rain batters on my face. My hearing is obscured; sort of like the distant feeling in your ears when you have the flu.
The bike spits mud behind me on the lonely dirt road I travel. What am I doing out here? Where am I coming from? I am clearly going home, I can feel it in my chest.
Trees barren, must be early spring. Fog envelopes the swamps I ride alongside of. I spot a dog-like figure on the side of the road. I down-shift a few times and slow my roll. As I approach the figure it leaps towards me. It jumps right behind me. Startled, I punch it to escape.
As I look back I notice that it is a grey wolf. Its furr is ratty and its muscles buldging. Vile drool drips from the wolfs gnashing teeth. As fast as I try, the bike will not go more than 49 miles per hour. Coincidently, this is 1 mph slower than the wolf is running (it doesnt make sense, don't ask).
I soon realize that I must do something or else I will be finished. I kick towards the wolf so that it loses a step or two. The wind turns to blistering cold. The rain comes down harder and obscures my vision. Panic overwhelmes me.
Heart racing, adrenaline pumping. I notice a police car up ahead. Relief! I get closer and flag down the officer. The officer notices what is transpiring, steps out of the car, draws his gun and fires. A miss!
Too late for the officer, the wolf pounces and tears the officer to shreds. In disbelief I turn around. Another wolf spawns from the wounds of the slain officer. In horror I speed up a hill. The bike does not have the power, I lazily climb the hill. The wolves close ground rapidly!
No more than a minute flat I am overturned by the wolves. A few rolls on the bike and I lay face up in the rain on the dirt road. The wolves gnashing at me. Somehow I struggle free and clammor to my feet. The road is muddy, slippery even. I sloppily jog up the hill fighting the wolves off as they jump on my back. I can hear each chomp behind my neck.
At the top of the hill is a city transit bus... I must be no more than a mile outside of town! I am so close! The wolves dissapear into the surrounding swamp as I approach the bus. The bus lets me on and the driver notices my distress. I am bleeding yet I felt no pain; must be the adrenaline. Riding towards the town something slams into the bus and it too is over-turned onto its side. Immediately I knew my journey was not over!
I immerge from the bus and see maybe six or seven wolves chewing on the passengers of the bus. I find a sharp metal tube, likely the scrap from a fuel line. I fight off a wolf by piercing it through the side and run off into the swamp (why the hell would I do that...)
The swamp gets deeper, I am soon up past my waste in muddy swamp water. I turn around and there are many more wolves coming after me. It is over, I cannot go on. I am exhausted and paralyzed with fear. I find myself entangled against a fallen tree. The wolves close in. The pack always finds a target and overwhelms it. I felt each tooth, each claw... fade to black, that is all there was...
Dream opens and I am on a dirt bike; maybe 250cc. Smell of 2-stroke engine and gasoline. Cold, damp, foggy, and rainy day. I am miles away from my house. Soft misting rain batters on my face. My hearing is obscured; sort of like the distant feeling in your ears when you have the flu.
The bike spits mud behind me on the lonely dirt road I travel. What am I doing out here? Where am I coming from? I am clearly going home, I can feel it in my chest.
Trees barren, must be early spring. Fog envelopes the swamps I ride alongside of. I spot a dog-like figure on the side of the road. I down-shift a few times and slow my roll. As I approach the figure it leaps towards me. It jumps right behind me. Startled, I punch it to escape.
As I look back I notice that it is a grey wolf. Its furr is ratty and its muscles buldging. Vile drool drips from the wolfs gnashing teeth. As fast as I try, the bike will not go more than 49 miles per hour. Coincidently, this is 1 mph slower than the wolf is running (it doesnt make sense, don't ask).
I soon realize that I must do something or else I will be finished. I kick towards the wolf so that it loses a step or two. The wind turns to blistering cold. The rain comes down harder and obscures my vision. Panic overwhelmes me.
Heart racing, adrenaline pumping. I notice a police car up ahead. Relief! I get closer and flag down the officer. The officer notices what is transpiring, steps out of the car, draws his gun and fires. A miss!
Too late for the officer, the wolf pounces and tears the officer to shreds. In disbelief I turn around. Another wolf spawns from the wounds of the slain officer. In horror I speed up a hill. The bike does not have the power, I lazily climb the hill. The wolves close ground rapidly!
No more than a minute flat I am overturned by the wolves. A few rolls on the bike and I lay face up in the rain on the dirt road. The wolves gnashing at me. Somehow I struggle free and clammor to my feet. The road is muddy, slippery even. I sloppily jog up the hill fighting the wolves off as they jump on my back. I can hear each chomp behind my neck.
At the top of the hill is a city transit bus... I must be no more than a mile outside of town! I am so close! The wolves dissapear into the surrounding swamp as I approach the bus. The bus lets me on and the driver notices my distress. I am bleeding yet I felt no pain; must be the adrenaline. Riding towards the town something slams into the bus and it too is over-turned onto its side. Immediately I knew my journey was not over!
I immerge from the bus and see maybe six or seven wolves chewing on the passengers of the bus. I find a sharp metal tube, likely the scrap from a fuel line. I fight off a wolf by piercing it through the side and run off into the swamp (why the hell would I do that...)
The swamp gets deeper, I am soon up past my waste in muddy swamp water. I turn around and there are many more wolves coming after me. It is over, I cannot go on. I am exhausted and paralyzed with fear. I find myself entangled against a fallen tree. The wolves close in. The pack always finds a target and overwhelms it. I felt each tooth, each claw... fade to black, that is all there was...
Family Jewels
Dreams.
Reading a Stranger in a Strange Land in a beach side hotel. I notice that the movie (that does not exist in real life, by the way) is playing at the same time. The movie is precisely as the book goes; a pure port from one form to another. After fifteen minutes my companions decided that we should visit some museums in the town we were visiting.
Curious enough, we seemed to be in a south-asian location such as vietnam or cambodia. However, the town was very Americanized. Upon asking what town we were a friend stated we were in Battle Creek. The stark contrast between a south-asian climate and Battle Creek, Michigan is astounding. At this point I knew I was dreaming but forged on anyway.
We drive to a history museum that housed very precious metals and jewels. Many of us waited in the lobby while a few friends pay for the admission. During our wait I had some very good conversations with fellow tourists and sight-seers alike. One man commented on my bonsai tree tattoo on my arm. He stated "You know, sir, I highly respect your reverence to mother nature. In my country a man marked with nature is a man that can be trusted and sought for all kinds of advice."
Another conversation occured between an family from India; a woman and her two children. The children stated that the family was travelling after their father passed. It was always their fathers dream to explore and see the sights with their children; so in commemoration they would travel and see it all. The woman was telling me a bit about the building and why it housed the jewells. She also pointed to a joined building that, amongst other things, housed the worlds most valuable jewells. She also said, sadly, that nearly daily there was an attempted robbery of the jewells.
So at this point I get worried that my friends are taking too long to get our admission tickets. I notice in the joined building that two figures are running back towards our building followed by three armed policemen. I had a deep suspicion that these two people were going to be shot down. I shouted "EVERYBODY COVER YOUR EARS, THERES GOING TO BE GUN SHOTS!" As usual per my dreams nary a soul listens to my warning. Moments later four shotgun blasts ring out and down the halls. (Why do my suspicions and feelings come true in my dreams?)
Panic immediately comes over myself and my companions as we have not seen our friends in quite some time. We all bolt to the turn-style for admission, on the way the policemen chase down a woman that seemed to be dressed as a museum employee. The policemen push her down and point a pistol to her skull. I immediately look at the Indian children in horror and luckily their mother was covering their eyes and ears. I turn back around and the policeman pulls the trigger. The smell, the blood... all so real in my mind.
Horrified I step towards the policeman in blatent defiance of the public scene. He points the gun at me... my alarm wakes me up.
Reading a Stranger in a Strange Land in a beach side hotel. I notice that the movie (that does not exist in real life, by the way) is playing at the same time. The movie is precisely as the book goes; a pure port from one form to another. After fifteen minutes my companions decided that we should visit some museums in the town we were visiting.
Curious enough, we seemed to be in a south-asian location such as vietnam or cambodia. However, the town was very Americanized. Upon asking what town we were a friend stated we were in Battle Creek. The stark contrast between a south-asian climate and Battle Creek, Michigan is astounding. At this point I knew I was dreaming but forged on anyway.
We drive to a history museum that housed very precious metals and jewels. Many of us waited in the lobby while a few friends pay for the admission. During our wait I had some very good conversations with fellow tourists and sight-seers alike. One man commented on my bonsai tree tattoo on my arm. He stated "You know, sir, I highly respect your reverence to mother nature. In my country a man marked with nature is a man that can be trusted and sought for all kinds of advice."
Another conversation occured between an family from India; a woman and her two children. The children stated that the family was travelling after their father passed. It was always their fathers dream to explore and see the sights with their children; so in commemoration they would travel and see it all. The woman was telling me a bit about the building and why it housed the jewells. She also pointed to a joined building that, amongst other things, housed the worlds most valuable jewells. She also said, sadly, that nearly daily there was an attempted robbery of the jewells.
So at this point I get worried that my friends are taking too long to get our admission tickets. I notice in the joined building that two figures are running back towards our building followed by three armed policemen. I had a deep suspicion that these two people were going to be shot down. I shouted "EVERYBODY COVER YOUR EARS, THERES GOING TO BE GUN SHOTS!" As usual per my dreams nary a soul listens to my warning. Moments later four shotgun blasts ring out and down the halls. (Why do my suspicions and feelings come true in my dreams?)
Panic immediately comes over myself and my companions as we have not seen our friends in quite some time. We all bolt to the turn-style for admission, on the way the policemen chase down a woman that seemed to be dressed as a museum employee. The policemen push her down and point a pistol to her skull. I immediately look at the Indian children in horror and luckily their mother was covering their eyes and ears. I turn back around and the policeman pulls the trigger. The smell, the blood... all so real in my mind.
Horrified I step towards the policeman in blatent defiance of the public scene. He points the gun at me... my alarm wakes me up.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)