bitterdiva

It was only a dream

“Won’t it be dull when we rid ourselves of all these demons haunting us to keep us company? Won’t it be odd to be happy like we always thought we’re supposed to feel but never seem to be?” – War on Drugs, BNL

Last evening, in the comforts of another room, warm and safe, I dreamt. Surrealism infected the dream state and the extraordinary became ordinary, as if supernatural events are commonplace. In the majority of the dreams I had or remembered, an element of fantasy was ever present. Conspicuous was the dream that had no demons, spirits, llama patrols, gremlins, or Holy Nuclear Fire™.

The old apartment was rife with turbulent spiritual energy that manifested itself into Morpheus’ realm. There were early mornings when I would scream or sweat myself awake, and there were some when I was convinced that I was conversing with the other side. Much forgotten were those troublesome evenings until recently.

This past week, I witnessed the complete demise of the local and national governments with successfully obliterating cities through the use of the H-bomb. Hidden behind a shed, most likely made of lead, I watched the reflection of the event and thought how beautiful it was, followed by extreme sorrow and panic.

This morning’s nightmare involved several friends, Canada, raising a demon army, and performing an exorcism. I had traveled with two friends to Canada, a male and a female. The female was continuing a journey from there to the Midwest area and we were accompanying her through the first leg of her journey. We crashed at a B&B she often frequented, ate dinner in a country cabin dining room complete with fireplace and the male friend asking for a Coor’s light. This alone should have been key that it was merely a dream.

The next morning when we awoke, the female was going to drive my car away from the cabin. The car was parked in the back, facing a creek, which spontaneously erupted into a tsunami pulling my car into the now formed river by waves. I lost the female to the water, only my male friend and I survived. After trudging back to the cabin, I was crossing a room to warm up by the fire where my male friend was drying off, and there was a spirit of a little boy riding a tricycle around in circles flashing in several different places within seconds of appearing/disappearing.

I found the attitude of the owner to be peculiar when I relayed the traumatic event by the creek, she shrugged it off as if it was as common as changing underwear. Further into one of the rooms, I saw my friend standing there, soaking wet, I put my hand on her shoulder; she turned around to acknowledge my presence and her face was pale, with gray-blue lips and eyes. I realized at that moment she was dead. The owner began to say something, an incantation, she was in the process of raising a demon army. I successfully managed to raise my own and they battled, I finally won. The next process for me was freeing my friend from the gripes of the water demons that possessed her.

When all was said and done, tasks completed, we left the cabin. She was safely brought back to my plane of existence and able to continue her journey. I was to head back home via Ohio, which was the only indication of where in Canada I could be. When I started down the road back to civilization, I had to return to the cabin for something – what that was, was unknown, most likely to see the truth of the place – it was boarded up as if no one had been there within 10 years. The decrepit building had been condemned and the creek behind was dry as a bone. It was the owner that would never let any guests leave.

I can remember one of my nightmares from when I was six years old and sharing a bedroom with my sister. I was having difficulty sleeping, either from illness or nightmares, and my mother was sleeping in the same bed as myself to help ease me back into sleeping. I remember the room’s configuration, my bed was on the wall with the open closet and my sister’s was perpendicular to the adjoining wall. Between our beds was her dresser and on the opposite wall was my dresser. In the dream, a skeleton walked into the room, I was sitting up in the bed staring down at my sleeping mother, stuck its tongue out at me and continued to walk into the dresser and fade away.

05:30 PM

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Posted by: Groundzero at January 23, 2004 07:44 AM

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