(no subject)
I dreamed again last night. I woke up with questions this morning.
In my dream, I accepted God...and I was saved. I was literally saved from Hell and damnation. In my dream, Hell wasn't fire and brimstone. Hell was a dance club and everyone was having fun. Everyone was gyrating to the music. It looked like a wonderful place to be. But I didn't feel comfortable being there. I was scared. I was anxious. For some reason unknown to me I recognized this place as Hell. I felt as though I was there for higher purpose. I felt as though I didn't belong there. I felt as if I was sent on a mission to infiltrate Hell.
Everyone in the club was moved outside. We all stopped being flesh and blood at this time. Our bodies became stiff and stone like. Our skins hardened and cracked. We became like moving statues and every move we had to make destroyed us a little bit. The devil had selected one among us to be the repairman. He wanted him to fix the ones that were broken, to fill the cracks. It started raining.
The devil started selecting groups of people. I was scared. I was anxious. I wasn't in the first batch. A part of me knew I had to go. A part of me was too scared to go. Holly was there. We went together in the second batch. We walked down a small set of stairs. There was a large bridge overhead. The sky is grim and pouring. I felt the rain hitting me, filling the cracks in my stone skin, as I hopped down the stairway. We soon reached a large open space, a yard. I could see the devil within sight. He was branding everyone. Using a small stamp like contraption, he was branding everyone's hands. Holly went before me. Her sin was gluttony. The devil was smooth talking and charismatic. I didn't feel comfortable standing before him. He branded me with a smile on his face. A deviously friendly smile. It was still raining. Below our feet was a large puddle. It didn't feel right to me. I said out loud: "this isn't right." The devil looked at me. He was trying to convince me differently. He was charming. I believed him. He told my sin. It was infidelity. He convinced me that this was decided by God. I was judged. I looked around and everyone had the mark of the beast. Everyone's was unique and whimsical. The devil had his own mark like a mustache. My mark manifested as a mask. Nothing felt right. Everyone around me was laughing. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. It felt like a party. I was laughing. The devil laughed with us. Still, nothing felt right. Even though there is laughter in the air, I feel hopeless. The feeling of hopelessness permeates the air. Hopelessness felt terrifying. "This isn't right," I said to myself. Part of my mask fell. I picked it up. There were words. The mask read: "let you be hard." "This isn't right," I repeated. And then I immediately knew. I wasn't right. I closed my eyes and accepted God. My body felt real. My body felt light. I was filled with warmth as a beam of golden light lifted me up slowly. I felt happy. I felt relieved. I smiled. The devil below me bellowed out: "This isn't right! You rejected God!"
In my dream, I accepted God...and I was saved. I was literally saved from Hell and damnation. In my dream, Hell wasn't fire and brimstone. Hell was a dance club and everyone was having fun. Everyone was gyrating to the music. It looked like a wonderful place to be. But I didn't feel comfortable being there. I was scared. I was anxious. For some reason unknown to me I recognized this place as Hell. I felt as though I was there for higher purpose. I felt as though I didn't belong there. I felt as if I was sent on a mission to infiltrate Hell.
Everyone in the club was moved outside. We all stopped being flesh and blood at this time. Our bodies became stiff and stone like. Our skins hardened and cracked. We became like moving statues and every move we had to make destroyed us a little bit. The devil had selected one among us to be the repairman. He wanted him to fix the ones that were broken, to fill the cracks. It started raining.
The devil started selecting groups of people. I was scared. I was anxious. I wasn't in the first batch. A part of me knew I had to go. A part of me was too scared to go. Holly was there. We went together in the second batch. We walked down a small set of stairs. There was a large bridge overhead. The sky is grim and pouring. I felt the rain hitting me, filling the cracks in my stone skin, as I hopped down the stairway. We soon reached a large open space, a yard. I could see the devil within sight. He was branding everyone. Using a small stamp like contraption, he was branding everyone's hands. Holly went before me. Her sin was gluttony. The devil was smooth talking and charismatic. I didn't feel comfortable standing before him. He branded me with a smile on his face. A deviously friendly smile. It was still raining. Below our feet was a large puddle. It didn't feel right to me. I said out loud: "this isn't right." The devil looked at me. He was trying to convince me differently. He was charming. I believed him. He told my sin. It was infidelity. He convinced me that this was decided by God. I was judged. I looked around and everyone had the mark of the beast. Everyone's was unique and whimsical. The devil had his own mark like a mustache. My mark manifested as a mask. Nothing felt right. Everyone around me was laughing. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. It felt like a party. I was laughing. The devil laughed with us. Still, nothing felt right. Even though there is laughter in the air, I feel hopeless. The feeling of hopelessness permeates the air. Hopelessness felt terrifying. "This isn't right," I said to myself. Part of my mask fell. I picked it up. There were words. The mask read: "let you be hard." "This isn't right," I repeated. And then I immediately knew. I wasn't right. I closed my eyes and accepted God. My body felt real. My body felt light. I was filled with warmth as a beam of golden light lifted me up slowly. I felt happy. I felt relieved. I smiled. The devil below me bellowed out: "This isn't right! You rejected God!"