dreamtime
it´s been too long. no way in hell am i going to write about finland or the german roadtrip now. anything i could say about finland here would only be a pale rehash of what more diligent types like mastermemit or cazgatita had to say. since we were together throughout the whole thing you can assume my personal experiences were not so divergent from their accounts.
in short, it was a blast, and im grateful i got included. though, it was more socializing in two (three if you count the roadtrip) weeks than i usually do in several months. this probably accounts for alot of my desire to be alone and quiet for a bit after it was all over.
for several weeks i have not dreamt. what bothered me more was that i also couldnt write much. my emails were terse and to the point. even in my journal (the real one) i had not written a real entry for too long. last sunday, that ended in a really long and vivid dream... since then i have been dreaming lots... i only hope writing it down does not jinx that...
here is what i wrote after i woke up.
the house was a gateway. everyone in the small town knew that. people who trespassed had their memories erased. it mostly worked, but sometimes they would regain enough of their experiences to come snooping around again.
from the Other World, agents in the forms of dolls were placed in our world. the children of the town kept dolls that only came in 3-4 varieties. each doll looked like one of the societal leaders in the other world. whatever the dolls experienced, all their sensory input would go directly back to the person in whose image they had been built.
at one point, i remember that i was watching a man ransack all the houses he could find. everytime he would find another doll he would scream with paranoid excitement. after he found two or three of a blond woman the dolls were called into action. immediately, something recalled them back to their home. i stood in the streets with tens of thousands of dolls running around me like mice. they climbed out of windows, pushed open doors, and flowed like a river into the door of the house.
hm... i was in the house before.
why i didn´t remember it earlier? i don´t know. that´s just how dreams work.
the house was vacant. nobody lived there. from the inside it was decorated in modest victorian mansion style. cherry wood half wall paneling, and small beautifully framed photos were everywhere. from the corners of my eyes everything was constantly moving and shifting place. for some reason i didnt find this menacing at all. like the villagers i somehow suspected that if i bore the other world no malice that it would be returned in kind.
each room held a different ability to affect my senses. tho sadly i dont remember exactly what most of them were like; only the library. there, i remember staring at an oval wall mirror in a golden frame. books were on a shelf nearby and in front stood a bust of a man on a pedestal.
as i was staring the colors of the room began to shift and pulse from normal to a violent negative image. the effect accompanied by a very baritone buzzing sound somehow left me entranced and i continued looking at the now moving bust trying to decipher what it was telling me.
-flash forward-
i was in the bedroom. as i lay down before the massive four poster bed i felt my clothing starting to shift. i was being sucked farther and farther under the bed and then beyond. that was the _actual_ gateway. as i was racing along on my back i was for still completely calm.
first came nothing but darkness. second was a world of broken glass that i flew through without harm. third was a world of ammonium gas. yet, i could still breathe. lastly, was a floor of tiles. where some had broken i saw nothing but an endless pit underneath. i slid deftly left and right picking the correct and stable tiles.
then i arrived. i remember something bright...
then i woke up.
in short, it was a blast, and im grateful i got included. though, it was more socializing in two (three if you count the roadtrip) weeks than i usually do in several months. this probably accounts for alot of my desire to be alone and quiet for a bit after it was all over.
for several weeks i have not dreamt. what bothered me more was that i also couldnt write much. my emails were terse and to the point. even in my journal (the real one) i had not written a real entry for too long. last sunday, that ended in a really long and vivid dream... since then i have been dreaming lots... i only hope writing it down does not jinx that...
here is what i wrote after i woke up.
the house was a gateway. everyone in the small town knew that. people who trespassed had their memories erased. it mostly worked, but sometimes they would regain enough of their experiences to come snooping around again.
from the Other World, agents in the forms of dolls were placed in our world. the children of the town kept dolls that only came in 3-4 varieties. each doll looked like one of the societal leaders in the other world. whatever the dolls experienced, all their sensory input would go directly back to the person in whose image they had been built.
at one point, i remember that i was watching a man ransack all the houses he could find. everytime he would find another doll he would scream with paranoid excitement. after he found two or three of a blond woman the dolls were called into action. immediately, something recalled them back to their home. i stood in the streets with tens of thousands of dolls running around me like mice. they climbed out of windows, pushed open doors, and flowed like a river into the door of the house.
hm... i was in the house before.
why i didn´t remember it earlier? i don´t know. that´s just how dreams work.
the house was vacant. nobody lived there. from the inside it was decorated in modest victorian mansion style. cherry wood half wall paneling, and small beautifully framed photos were everywhere. from the corners of my eyes everything was constantly moving and shifting place. for some reason i didnt find this menacing at all. like the villagers i somehow suspected that if i bore the other world no malice that it would be returned in kind.
each room held a different ability to affect my senses. tho sadly i dont remember exactly what most of them were like; only the library. there, i remember staring at an oval wall mirror in a golden frame. books were on a shelf nearby and in front stood a bust of a man on a pedestal.
as i was staring the colors of the room began to shift and pulse from normal to a violent negative image. the effect accompanied by a very baritone buzzing sound somehow left me entranced and i continued looking at the now moving bust trying to decipher what it was telling me.
-flash forward-
i was in the bedroom. as i lay down before the massive four poster bed i felt my clothing starting to shift. i was being sucked farther and farther under the bed and then beyond. that was the _actual_ gateway. as i was racing along on my back i was for still completely calm.
first came nothing but darkness. second was a world of broken glass that i flew through without harm. third was a world of ammonium gas. yet, i could still breathe. lastly, was a floor of tiles. where some had broken i saw nothing but an endless pit underneath. i slid deftly left and right picking the correct and stable tiles.
then i arrived. i remember something bright...
then i woke up.