A parkinglot - 03.02.06
A box. A box. A box. Izzy said there was a box. Grey box. Grey box of souls... shit, this has got to have something to do with it. I can feel it, and as soon as the impression hits me, I have to call Psyche. I've been fuckin' tryin' to figure this dream out since she told me 'bout it last week. Dreams mean shit. You can't ignore them. They're sent by too many things. Too many important things.
I'm pacing, and I want a smoke. The parking lot is cold and full of the buzz of the engines of the rigs around me. I haven't had a lot of sleep the past few days. My mind's a little skitzy. This is important though.
She said she saw a box of light, a box which split into lights and became women. Became her. Became others. Became this Double. And they laugh, oh how they fuckin' laugh. And then the wolves. The wolves come. They chase them? No. No they carry messages after the man with the cross dies.
Before that? You're getting the fuckin' dreams mixed up, Jinxie. The women call out and the wolves respond that time. The Seer wolves respond to them, to their voices. But they are the women, or the women look like them... not them.
Nine of them. Nine lights. Nine dreamers. She said there were nine dreamers, right? Remember. Remember. This is important. Nine lights. Nine dreamers. A grey box with souls in it. A box of light in a dream. And the women laugh. Those souls are fuckin' mad. One changes and she is both light and another of skin, one who casts shadows. She walks alone. Later, she vanishes, and all that's left is dark.
But who died? Who's the guy with the cross? The one with the warning. Who died? Who died surrounded by laughing women of double natures? Cavendish? Did he wear a cross? I can't fucking remember. Probably not him. But there's all these portals, all these places he kept secret. These places hidden from Ramirez and his journals of symbols. All the code and not so secret at all. Does that even have anything to do with it?
This has got to have something to do with it. At least the box does. Gotta call Izzy. Find out what happened to the box. How did Workday get it in the first place? Gotta call Psyche. Tell her what I'm thinking. What time is it? Fuck it. I'm callin' them.
I'm pacing, and I want a smoke. The parking lot is cold and full of the buzz of the engines of the rigs around me. I haven't had a lot of sleep the past few days. My mind's a little skitzy. This is important though.
She said she saw a box of light, a box which split into lights and became women. Became her. Became others. Became this Double. And they laugh, oh how they fuckin' laugh. And then the wolves. The wolves come. They chase them? No. No they carry messages after the man with the cross dies.
Before that? You're getting the fuckin' dreams mixed up, Jinxie. The women call out and the wolves respond that time. The Seer wolves respond to them, to their voices. But they are the women, or the women look like them... not them.
Nine of them. Nine lights. Nine dreamers. She said there were nine dreamers, right? Remember. Remember. This is important. Nine lights. Nine dreamers. A grey box with souls in it. A box of light in a dream. And the women laugh. Those souls are fuckin' mad. One changes and she is both light and another of skin, one who casts shadows. She walks alone. Later, she vanishes, and all that's left is dark.
But who died? Who's the guy with the cross? The one with the warning. Who died? Who died surrounded by laughing women of double natures? Cavendish? Did he wear a cross? I can't fucking remember. Probably not him. But there's all these portals, all these places he kept secret. These places hidden from Ramirez and his journals of symbols. All the code and not so secret at all. Does that even have anything to do with it?
This has got to have something to do with it. At least the box does. Gotta call Izzy. Find out what happened to the box. How did Workday get it in the first place? Gotta call Psyche. Tell her what I'm thinking. What time is it? Fuck it. I'm callin' them.