You never want to hear "You should see the bathroom..." whispered over and over again while pulling apart the laundry room, finding words written in brown rusty blood behind it. Arriving too late to see someone cave in, then die, the way their eyes are filled with hatred, not fright for passing. Or pain.

Just that they hate you so much. That you should've been there as well to die with them.

A large house, on a hills, trees littering the property. There was more to it, but the ending, the scraping (Why do I hear sound lately?) of the washing machine. Black and white tiles, and ichor dripping out of somewhere.

The kitchen was no better. A party, perhaps? People getting a little crazy, becoming base in desires. Ripping, shredding, collasping in upon themselves like paper folding into a crumbled ball. Pulling up the sink, seeing folded... things. Hacked, bent, no blood. Seeing words written under the mess, through the bodies without having to remove them to be able to read them.

Never made it to the bathroom to see how bad it was. I couldn't stay sleeping. I forced myself away, gasping, not caring that it was 5:30 and that the alarm was not going to go off til 7. Awake for a while, unable to stop shaking so so much. My shoulders were hurting.

It felt like a dark court, the back of the house to somewhere that would open up with ghastly spiderwebs for decoration, bulbous creatures trying to lure you in to screw in hideous ways. Feeling as if there'd be a long table, and the back of the house, where the mess was, was going to be dinner. Ruined.

Brown, rust, black and white. I rarely have colorful dreams. Rarely is there sound, just the knowledge of what was said. Blood is always a color though. Life seeping away, sometimes caused by me. No... Always caused by me. Either by my own want or arriving too late to save them.

Never did make it to the bathroom...

So much green in my face. Rustling all around, where usually I hear silence and just let the feelings of the scene consume me. But, I've been hearing more and more sound lately. Sometimes, it does not fit, but this time, it did.

Silk and other fabrics make such a wonderful sound when crushed in pale hands. Dressed in black, my corset and ballgown skirt. A girl I haven't seen since I was 10, but I reconstructed her to a woman my age, right away knowing who it was. I had a feeling I had been wanting her to be there, I'd summoned her.

That this time, this was all of my doing, instead of being dropped down in the middle and asked to fend for myself.

The kind of green, pale, with large flowers swelling and bending in folds, that goes well with natural red hair. Memories were in the dream as I waited in a tower, watching a forest with two girls in it holding hands while they fed deer too friendly to people. Playing video games on Sega in a dingy living room. It all slipped through my thoughts while waiting. Remembering a girl that I let go because of the stupidity of highschool pressure. I've not thought about her in... well, half my life and suddenly last night, she was there looking for me as well.

Night green fields rolling, grass silent in the wind. Just the sound of fabric. A table of dinner was laid out on white lace, family gathered but left us alone in another room. So much pale skin. One with freckles, the other dotted here and there with blackened moles (beauty marks?). On the floor, rolling, taking turns looking down, not really seeing faces but knowing. No clothing was removed, but the intentions were there.

People kept gathering, visiting, but always finding time to vanish into the quiet of rustling dresses.

I forced myself to wake this morning when that feeling something bad was coming. For once, I did not want my dream to turn into something dark and violent. I'm still sitting here, quietly. Just the sound of heat leaking out of the floor and my fingers across the keys. Sitting here missing.

I haven't thought of her in forever... today I think I'll see if I can look for her... somehow.

So strange... My roommate from college and her husband (whom she met at college, we were all friends) were in my dreams last night, along with a friend who I met through FFXI-mmo.

This one felt so much like it had happened before, but the first time I had been alone. The four of us met up as we were climbing past toll booths right before a large hill'd forest, tall grasses, and bitingly cold wind. One was carrying a blue banner, the other two caught up, chattering about how the monsters had shields from the old cities and thinking it was because one of the cities just lost a battle. I was quiet, wandering the path listening. We were all tired, stumbling, annoyed about how far we had to walk to get to our camp for the night. Clothing was scratched up and ripped, theirs all leather and chain, their blond hair sticking haphazzardly out of braids, me in light toned cloth that drapped and dragged against the dirt road.

No one heard it, but we all felt the rumble, and because I'd been through this before I quickly shoved them all off the road, as far through the plain of grass as we could get before a whole pack of beasts crested the hill, tumbling and hooting and hollaring, drunk off of their success. Tusks and greasy skin, thick hides with bristling fur. Hiding under the grass, and the friend with the banner had forgotten to drop the blue cloth down as well. We all waited, but none of the snarling, boiling skinned creatures looked around for us.

Held them back, remembering this happening in the snow some time ago, how everyone had to wait in the cold for so so long. Then finally, after feeling numb from crouching so long, a small band of rear scouts burst out of the forest, yellow skinned, wizened creatures with large ears and rusty swords. Now we could go.

Down the hill, there was a town with elephants grazing off to the side, all their babies at a trough, tumbling and rolling over each other. One charged off, knocking me to my feet and I watched it slam into the side of its mother, falling himself to the ground. Another wobbled over to me, a little tiny one, but still heavy as it pressed its weight against my thigh. I woke up this way, curled around what I thought to be a baby elephant who felt so alone around all his brothers and sisters.

I don't remember before the hill, but it felt as if the dream had been so much longer, much more walking before getting to that place at the foot of the hill. Hours of memories of the trek, but it's all gone now.

Terribly sorry you two, but one... Isa, my dear, you've finally gotten into my dreams *g* Unfortunately, I killed you off about the same time I killed off Matthew. It was a polarbear, it was quick. It was bloody as you tried to swim towards South America... and Tori Amos jumped off a cliff while I killed trolls in the jungle.

But in the end, everyone lived because we had to get her body back to the mountains to try again.

...


Good thing about going home, is I've been getting about 10 hours of sleep a day, where I usually rake in about 5 if I'm lucky. I love sleeping on the floor in my sister's room. My parents have light blocking blinds so it stays VERY dark if they're closed.

Sometimes I wonder why I get comments like "I want your brain." "Can I crawl into your mind and stay there for a while?"


Last night I killed my parents by driving off of a cliff. We were in the car they had rented for the wedding.

Then I had a long, silent conversation in a swamp with foot tall, golden snails. Behind us was the car, dead parents, and the cliff.




Jotting this down because I think I want to draw a snail painting eventually *grin*

*whimpers a bit* Okay. I don't want to remember my dreams again.

I don't remember how everyone got there, running away, like always. But we knew police were in the forth floor, on the other side of the door and that there had been a warning some crazy group of kids were prowling through the building.

It was like the upper corner of the brick was breathing. Sucking in and out, bits falling down, wood frame showing. The window then fell forward, with a figure on the other side of it standing so damn still, except for his eyes.

No one would do anything, everyone just stood there watching. The police wouldn't go in after them, they were too scared, and there was just this feeling that they were moving on, to see if there were other rooms like this, but I don't think there was, or didn't care, because the body fell head over heels, stiff.

His head was still there. A 2x4 with a pointed triangle at the top. No blood. No, his face was still there, it shouldn't have been. The slab of wood was up under his jaw, and went clear through to the top. No blood under it or below it. No fragments of bone. It just had slide in like a knife driven through a stick of butter. A group of people were below, catching him by the feet so he stood there in their hands, looking around. Falling forward, they then flipped him up and around, back head over heels, not merely turning, so that he could look at the sky.

I knew that the police were still walking through the building, not wanting to do anything, just let them continue. I woke up feeling like I was holding a newspaper.

There's only blood when I'm the one doing the killing, and only when it's someone I know. Otherwise, there's never blood for anyone that dies. Either they get sucked up into a storm, or completely eaten. I prefer using knives and walking backwards.

Do you ever have sound? I only see sound in my dreams, never actually hear.

The building tilting because there were 50 of us up there, peering over the edge, trying to see how the fire was doing. It had been a loud clanging noise, some girls hollaring "Hurray!" when they found out it was on the floor where their fathers lived. A few boys looked smug, then we all looked worried because the fire was below us and the elevators were probably too hot to travel in.

So we had gone up first. Three of us crawled across the top of the swaying roof, constantly clinging to something, hearing the floor guard hollaring from the other side saying it was useless, we should just wait in our rooms praying for a swift death. Boiling flesh is swift?

So much panic.

We found a hatch because our floor, there was no 'down', only 'up'. Down was a way out, up was just to the outside and a thirty story jump. I couldn't fit at first, but still managed to get through. The others saw us dropping back into the building and followed, because that swaying roof was scary, threatening to roll too far one way and push people off the edge.

I think we found a way out, because I remember standing outside, realizing I left everything inside. Wondering if I had time to go back up. But the firetrucks had made it through the jammed traffic.

Before that, I know there was a museum, that a few of the prettier ones were taken there with the older men. But I don't recall if we went too far into the museum, just stayed in the lobby, looking at all the golden light. Waiting for something.

Something bad had to have happened in the dream. I woke up hoping that those living on the burning floor had all died.

Apparently, the way across the ravine from the cracked earth desert to the shining city on the other side is by growing very large trees sideways.

I do not like arguing with retail when I am dreaming.

It was a dusty old compUSA and she was trying to get me to buy a bigger laptop, but I was in too much of a rush and almost slapped her when I told her it was only for work and I did NOT need it for video games. I had more important things to do. There was a dark shadowy monster thing on the second floor of the mall when I left to get lunch.



Then I had to wake up because I really, really had to go to the bathroom >.>
Yay! Coffee's done!

The only thing I remember as I was waking up was the bartender reassuring me:

"Don't worry, they'll grow back."

Hopefully smaller. was what I thought in return.

I don't know what it was to compell us to do what we did. I don't remember what happened either, or who started what. All I know is, that leaving the jeep with the mangled bodies and crushed violins with curling strings was the best thing to do at the time.

There had been a competition, which turned into a fight, which turned into us fleeing towards the water.

Now, I don't know about you, but I fear water. Loathe isn't even a strong enough word for the sickly feeling that dredges in my stomach when I think about the black murky poison surrounding my body. By you, the water may be pretty and blue, and crystal clear. Out here it kills you.

The five of us stood staring at the rocky island before us, wondering if this was the best way to go. Down to our right was a bridge, miles high, arching, lit and crowded with other people. Choppy water, or someone calling the police that we were trying to cross the bridge.

Thankfully, there was a boat. With room for only four.

Shit.

The others all agreed that my actions outweighed theirs, and shoved me over the side with the words 'you steer'.

I know hours passed with spitting and whining and clawing through the bile water. I think someone fell out, too. Not caring or perhaps not noticing, we just kept going. Or maybe if they did notice, I couldn't bother slowing down. If we stopped, they would find us. They who? No clue, but they would get us for sure. It was one of those feelings, kind of like the feeling you get when the monster under the bed was getting too hungry to stay under the bed.

Rocks suddenly let me know that we were near land again. Gasping, and spitting salty gunk from my mouth, I leapt forward to my feet, the others following quickly, howling that one had gone missing. I ignored them as they bitched and moaned, saying we should've gone to the bridge, and what do we do now? I climbed up the side of the black rocky hill, cutting my palms on the sharp edges, seeing a glow before me.

Needless to say, I was confused. I perched myself on a rock, the sounds of the others only chattering like birds. The other side, there were what seemed to be houses, all their lights on. It reminded me of a dream I had had about the stars, and how people lived in the constellations in little star houses.

Above the houses is what caught my eye as I registered there was something more. Sky was livid, red and purples, molted with liver spots and curling clouds. The sun was coming up.

Sometimes, now, I wish we had gone to the bridge.

It's happened before.

I had that running thought of "Oh, gods... not again." drumming around in my thoughts.

Of course, I don't remember it happening before, but I usually can hardly remember what's happened two hours ago, let alone what's going on in my head during the night. I've always had a weak memory. I blame the voices I used to hear as a child. ***

( * * * )

Where was I. . . Oh, right. Ducks.

Well, rather, just one. And it was obviously a costume, unless if ducks these days have legs and arms and are store bought fur, and felt beaks. Tall as a man, too, so obviously it was a costume.

Matthew showed me a video of the Easter Rabbit (I'll post it after work, I don't have the link with me) and we watched Fear and Loathing in Los Vegas. So my brain was fucked up as it was from that.

So this duck would follow me every where, always about half a minute behind, and then would just stand there in where ever it was I was at the time and watch. You could practically hear the blasted thing plotting destruction, it's desire to crush and smash up everything I knew. But, as long as I was there, everything was okay. The duck would just stand in a corner and watch.

I got coffee in a warehouse, it stood there glaring. I walked miles down the road to a highschool classmate's house - Beth's I believe. The girl that everyone avoided, including me, but were always polite too because her mother had sway with the school board. She was one of those shy types. We were preparing to get into a 1980's mini-van (The clunky, boxy ones) when I remembered something I forgot to grab and hide.

Then I heard it think "Right, the painting!" and the duck was no longer in sight.

Shit.

That "painting" was worth millions and in another house down the road. Old brown stone townhouses in a city, and that's where the duck was, staring into the window of one of the houses. I knew what it was planning as I walked down the road, remembering how I had seen through his eyes as he blew up the warehouse and the flower shop after I had left.

I had to go to the bathroom. Ugh. Got up, it was 5:49am. Leaving the bathroom, I thought I wonder if he's shootable. Or at least drop a cage over his head. Crawled back under the covers and returned to debating what to do about that damned duck.

Alarm then went off, and I don't think we ever did catch that duck.

Got to work, and the first real thought I had as I was going through papers was I wonder if we could lure him into a cement lined room, that might get him for good. So, obviously, you cannot shoot a duck dressed man, or drop cages out of thin air over his head.

...last night, a girlchild took up a whip to kill the man.

earlier that night, she had been devoured by a lion.






(Some days, I dread sleep, and I end up how I am today. A nervous wreck, paranoid about every little sound.)

it's not every day you send out girls to catch fish in murky water so that they can become porn stars...










*stares upwards at her brain*

We (myself, rob and melisa--my roommates) were driving to meet Matt for dinner, chinese if I remember correctly. Taking the old red car. Still runs, but it's on the old side.

I dont know how far out of town we were, maybe ten miles or so, but the roads were black and white -- from the slush building. No guard rail, but rob didnt seem to be worried about that as he zipped along. We were heading towards the curves in the road and he thankfully slowed down to take it carefully.

That's when I felt it. I think Rob did too because he let out a curse.

Perspective changed in my mind as if I could see from the outside, looking down at the car. The wheels kicked the back to towards the middle of the road, then to the edge, where the choppy, cold looking water was. (There's a sort of wide stream running next to the road, it comes curving out of the patchy forest)

I could see the path the car swirved, and watched from over my shoulder as I started to roll down the window in the back (I was behind the driver, Mel in the front passanger seat). That was what saved me, I suppose. The water came up to great us as the car slide backwards and I shouted silently for them to get out, hurry!

For some strange reason, I remembered the movie I, Robot's beginning then, with the robot only saving the person with the greatest percent chance to survive.

I wiggled out of the opened window, realizing that with it open, I would let the car sink. But the water can't be THAT deep. It's just a small stream. The car would hit the bottom and they would be able to get out. I gave a kick and looked back, seeing darkness eat the red.

Standing on the side of the road, I waited for the alarm for 7:00am go off, but it never did.

It didn't for a long, long time.

I never did meet up with Matt that night. I'm not sure what happened, I just stood there for what felt like hours, waiting for my brain to kick me fully awake.

Up in the hills, where the vampire hotel dwells within the trees in an old rickety house, is a man in a very large steam rolling truck. It's so large that there are 3 steam rollers. One in the front, then 20 feet back is another smaller one, then behind him is a third. There are other wheels sticking out all over the place and he sits up in the crows nest shouting for everyone in the streets to watch out.

People were just leaving the vampire hotel after the leader of it heard from the police that her sister was acting like a teenager, and could she please come get her out of jail along with her two friends. So, the vampire and all the hotel guests, minus the one that had been used for payment, left and walked down the hill.

There were shouts of look out look out! But no one but the vampires, standing on the corner of the road, heard. The man was too far up in his steam roller.

The first to get rolled was the hispanic woman in the green floral dress. She was flattened the most since all three hit her.

Next was the mother with her child who tried to get out of the way. The child ran as she saw her mom get sucked under.

The last woman thought she was safe, far away from where the steam roller was, but he suddenly changed his mind in the direction he was going and everyone that was waiting for the red light watched as first her dress got sucked under, then she dropped to her knees as it continued to take her down.

The mother and the last woman were never completely flattened, the people noticed as they dragged the bodies to the middle of the road to be picked up by the road clean up crew. Their butts were still round and their heads weren't crushed.

They all commented on how nicely they had been rolled though. No blood spilt, or bones stuck out from the flattened, pasty skin.

Too bad they had to get collected, I thought as I woke up just before the alarm went off. They'd have looked nice in my hotel.

Up 1/2 hour early...

Last night, children in white emergency room gowns stomped on bird eggs so that the feet littered the flagstone floor of the hospital dining hall. Jello was green and orange and covered their faces, and I was a man with spiked hair and tatoos covering my arms. No one cared about the mess but me. They were all screaming "Happy Birthday" to the boy sitting on the throne in the middle of the banquet tables that had empty plates.

I was screaming that they were a disgrace and should stop.

At least I was a good looking man...

I had been bitten by a spider (with a bulbious belly)
and later that night, my uterus and everything else reproductive had fallen out of me onto the tile of the bathroom.




Needless to say, I was VERY happy this morning when my alarm went off.

I really dont know where that dream came from. (there were other parts to it, like an invasion of spiders from this creapy man that hated me, and trying to find a job as a miner in some dank caves and a few buildings blew up. Oh, and I had two horses around me at almost all times..)

been having a few nasty dreams now that i'm winding down at work and getting ready to ship myself out (finally)

the other day at work, I had to deal with a borrowed *CHILD* from another store. I have never had to ever deal with such a moronic individual before in my life, not even my sister. (Matt'll get that, and anyone else that knows anything at all about my sister).

1. Believed he was better than everyone in the store. he was 'Just there to get numbers' . we're given kudos at the end of the week if we sell lots of subscriptions and reserves to customers, but it's not something that'll fire you or promote you unless if you're either extremely bad or godlike, respectively.

2. Refused to do any other part-timer's work, like ABC the games on the wall, vacuum.

3. make quite a few sexual comments about people after they left the store, and said some rather vulgar things about the girl across the hall. and called both my fiance and the guy that was taking my place and one of our regulars 'smell fat slobs'. (apparently he's met my pretty buddha, or he was just pissed off at me enough that he had to add him into his comments.) Plus I now know that his underware was bought at the gap by some girl trying to bribe him to go to the prom with her, and cost 22 dollars.. WHY any one would is completely beyond me. He belittles women, is raciest, and apparently doesnt like people that weigh more than 20lbs.

4. I constantly went from asking to telling him to do so something, then just gave up and went to do work in the back, sick of hearing him say 'no one in the store does anything, i'm the only one that did any work around here.' (he did nothing but complain. :P) and when ever I came back up to the front, he would ask why I was gone for so long, and I would merrily reply "doing work, unlike someone else here." and he would just go "Brett loves me because I'm the only one here to save you from getting no numbers." (Which is total bull, we've been in 'first' place each month for our numbers in the mall store catagory)

5. at closing, instead of straightening up the store, he merely hovered behind the counter till I told him to vacuum, which he failed to do as well, and he proceeded to wait outside past the gate instead of even bothering to do ANYTHING. But by then I couldn't care less, I was happy it was quiet and i could get my work done.

Unfortunatly for him... I dont let go of grudges very easily. So the next day I wrote everything down, found out from the Distict Manager that I should call my complaints in to his manager... So I did. Then he called back and asked me to type it all out and sign the paper. So I did.

His manager did NOT sound happy about the total disrespect he had towards our store and myself and the other manager he had to work with earlier in his shift. In fact, it sounds like a 'last straw' kind of thing for this kid. *smug look*.. too bad he dropped out of highschool to work at game stop and play world of war craft.

---

back to those dreams.. I woke up this morning at 6:30 am.. and laid there fuming because Matthew had called me while I was at work and cheerily informed me that he was going to New York City and was already halfway there at the time of the call. -.- there were some other bits to th dream, but they were unimportant. been trying to sleep in to say... 9am.. but I cant seem to get past 7-8am

....bad dreams again of my teelth falling apart in my mouth, but this one was in the middle of a sci-fi like dream about the earth being wrapped in metal and there was only life on the moon. so i'm on little sleep.