The Circus of Death is Upon You
Man, I hate screwed-up dreams.
It was autumn; almost Halloween, and "we" were walking through a small town, watching the leaves blow and smelling ripe apples on the air. There was a little down festival going on in one place, and there was a decrepit old man walking around with a sign that said:
LEAVE ME ALONE
I AM 74 YEARS OLD
I WAS BORN IN 1842
AND I HAVE ALWAYS LIVED
IN THIS HOUSE
Only, nothing would leave him alone. He was so thin you could see he was almost a living skeleton. Not only would the children not stop jeering at him, but the wind buffetted him around as if it had a personal bone to pick with him. Adults walked past him heedless of his agony. Somewhere a brass band played and the local firehouse had the truck pulled out to show off the equipment. They had dressed the truck up like some big shaggy furry PBS mascot, rather like Clifford the Big Red Dog, only he was blue. I don't remember what they were spraying out of the hose or what it meant; I probably don't WANT to know.
The old man stumbled past several times, each time the date of his year of birth was earlier. By the time he reached the threshold of 'this house', it was 1733. I knew then he had to be a ghost. For whatever reason, I and several of my friends walked in after him.
Here's the weird part.
naamah_darling excused herself to slide UP a strange passage that would let her out through a secret doorway deep within the house, because she was the leader of some strange club we had going. She was dressed like a pirate, so perhaps we were those buttpirates topknot and I were joking around about the other night. Naamah winked and made some sign with her hand before she magically ascended the tilted floor by defying gravity.
The rest of us went downstairs to go into the room we were going to use. The old man put down his sign and disappeared into the wallboards of the house. Now WHY didn't any of us leave when something that creepy happened?
I do not know who most of the other women I was with were. One of them truly resembled fayemeadows, if she looks like her icon photo. I think one of them might have been cricketshay. edenssixthday was definitely near me; I remember her saying something to me and I looked straight at her. I'm pretty sure both whitephoenix and jettcat were with me. Obviously, we were all into BPAL.
This demented Cirque du Soleil-type of performer group invaded the house, but they defied both description and understanding. But I'll try. One of them was a man who swung by on a long red ribbon that was not suspended from anything I could see--and he was literally wallpapering the walls with his body. At first there were just duplicates of his body glued to the walls, but eventually he began rolling and he was left in LAYERS on the wall. I started to get very scared. Other freaks ran through doing things human beings should not be able to do. A few of our group ran for the front door, but the picture window on the house was boarded over--and a group of gangbangers stood between us and the escape, demanding to know if the boards were an attempt to keep them out. We tried to assure them we did NOT want to keep them out and they were WELCOME to have the whole house...but we never got out. One of the gang members was swinging a big bottle on a rope to smack people in the face if they got too close; he threatened to kill anyone who came near him.
I backed away from the front door. About half the group (there were maybe nine of us) made it into the kitchen.
A long, long, long silken scarf floated through the air and settled over the staircase railing, moaning. There was a small icon photo of Edenssixthday stuck midway down the handrail, and as the scarf slipped over it, it muttered: "She is quite a dish!" rather like Kodos in the one Simpsons Halloween Episode "To Serve Homer". I tried to tug the scarf away from her photo, but it slithered and caressed that little square of photo paper lovingly and wanted to know who she was. When the scarf--which was purple, if that matters--hit the floor, it became a strangely neurotic redhaired man. He was not threatening, but he wrapped himself around Sam as if he was still a scarf--I couldn't save her, so I ran into the kitchen.
Anyone who had made it to the kitchen had been altered into more of these weird circus performers. The one who resembled Shay was brilliantly coloured and would have been lovely if she hadn't been melting between two poles a la Dali. At least two of the group of people were totally missing--and I don't know what happened to Naamah. I threw myself through the back kitchen door and beckoned the others to come out...although I don't know if they changed back to human or not.
I ran as fast and as hard as I could, until I threw myself into a small grove of trees at the edge of town. I though I had made it out, but the Wallpaper Man's ribbon floated lazily out over the air and wrapped itself around the trunk I was leaning against, gasping for air.
I awoke, gasping for air. I'd either just had an apnea attack, or else I am getting sick AGAIN. My sinuses are on overload and my throat is killing me...and I'm pretty pissed at the three coworkers who have walked into my office in the past 48 hours going: "...I'm so sick...My throat hurts...I get sick every year..."
[SIDEBAR: With a compromised immune system and being asthmatic, I WARN sick people not to be around me. To go around someone whose life is literally THREATENED by colds and bronchitis is more than "just thoughtless"--it's CRUEL. What they can throw off easily could possibly kill me, and it certainly won't be going away as soon as THEIR versions of it will. What is WRONG with people?!?!?]
I'm almost too scared to lie back down, although the dream was more cartoon than reality at times.
*sigh*
Nechtan
It was autumn; almost Halloween, and "we" were walking through a small town, watching the leaves blow and smelling ripe apples on the air. There was a little down festival going on in one place, and there was a decrepit old man walking around with a sign that said:
LEAVE ME ALONE
I AM 74 YEARS OLD
I WAS BORN IN 1842
AND I HAVE ALWAYS LIVED
IN THIS HOUSE
Only, nothing would leave him alone. He was so thin you could see he was almost a living skeleton. Not only would the children not stop jeering at him, but the wind buffetted him around as if it had a personal bone to pick with him. Adults walked past him heedless of his agony. Somewhere a brass band played and the local firehouse had the truck pulled out to show off the equipment. They had dressed the truck up like some big shaggy furry PBS mascot, rather like Clifford the Big Red Dog, only he was blue. I don't remember what they were spraying out of the hose or what it meant; I probably don't WANT to know.
The old man stumbled past several times, each time the date of his year of birth was earlier. By the time he reached the threshold of 'this house', it was 1733. I knew then he had to be a ghost. For whatever reason, I and several of my friends walked in after him.
Here's the weird part.
naamah_darling excused herself to slide UP a strange passage that would let her out through a secret doorway deep within the house, because she was the leader of some strange club we had going. She was dressed like a pirate, so perhaps we were those buttpirates topknot and I were joking around about the other night. Naamah winked and made some sign with her hand before she magically ascended the tilted floor by defying gravity.
The rest of us went downstairs to go into the room we were going to use. The old man put down his sign and disappeared into the wallboards of the house. Now WHY didn't any of us leave when something that creepy happened?
I do not know who most of the other women I was with were. One of them truly resembled fayemeadows, if she looks like her icon photo. I think one of them might have been cricketshay. edenssixthday was definitely near me; I remember her saying something to me and I looked straight at her. I'm pretty sure both whitephoenix and jettcat were with me. Obviously, we were all into BPAL.
This demented Cirque du Soleil-type of performer group invaded the house, but they defied both description and understanding. But I'll try. One of them was a man who swung by on a long red ribbon that was not suspended from anything I could see--and he was literally wallpapering the walls with his body. At first there were just duplicates of his body glued to the walls, but eventually he began rolling and he was left in LAYERS on the wall. I started to get very scared. Other freaks ran through doing things human beings should not be able to do. A few of our group ran for the front door, but the picture window on the house was boarded over--and a group of gangbangers stood between us and the escape, demanding to know if the boards were an attempt to keep them out. We tried to assure them we did NOT want to keep them out and they were WELCOME to have the whole house...but we never got out. One of the gang members was swinging a big bottle on a rope to smack people in the face if they got too close; he threatened to kill anyone who came near him.
I backed away from the front door. About half the group (there were maybe nine of us) made it into the kitchen.
A long, long, long silken scarf floated through the air and settled over the staircase railing, moaning. There was a small icon photo of Edenssixthday stuck midway down the handrail, and as the scarf slipped over it, it muttered: "She is quite a dish!" rather like Kodos in the one Simpsons Halloween Episode "To Serve Homer". I tried to tug the scarf away from her photo, but it slithered and caressed that little square of photo paper lovingly and wanted to know who she was. When the scarf--which was purple, if that matters--hit the floor, it became a strangely neurotic redhaired man. He was not threatening, but he wrapped himself around Sam as if he was still a scarf--I couldn't save her, so I ran into the kitchen.
Anyone who had made it to the kitchen had been altered into more of these weird circus performers. The one who resembled Shay was brilliantly coloured and would have been lovely if she hadn't been melting between two poles a la Dali. At least two of the group of people were totally missing--and I don't know what happened to Naamah. I threw myself through the back kitchen door and beckoned the others to come out...although I don't know if they changed back to human or not.
I ran as fast and as hard as I could, until I threw myself into a small grove of trees at the edge of town. I though I had made it out, but the Wallpaper Man's ribbon floated lazily out over the air and wrapped itself around the trunk I was leaning against, gasping for air.
I awoke, gasping for air. I'd either just had an apnea attack, or else I am getting sick AGAIN. My sinuses are on overload and my throat is killing me...and I'm pretty pissed at the three coworkers who have walked into my office in the past 48 hours going: "...I'm so sick...My throat hurts...I get sick every year..."
[SIDEBAR: With a compromised immune system and being asthmatic, I WARN sick people not to be around me. To go around someone whose life is literally THREATENED by colds and bronchitis is more than "just thoughtless"--it's CRUEL. What they can throw off easily could possibly kill me, and it certainly won't be going away as soon as THEIR versions of it will. What is WRONG with people?!?!?]
I'm almost too scared to lie back down, although the dream was more cartoon than reality at times.
*sigh*
Nechtan