(no subject)
dream state.
i found myself desperately needing a ride. to the place i was going i'm sure i would never normally go, but in this state it was all i could focus on. the road i'm walking down is one i've never been on, but can have a mental picture about, as i'm sure you could too. it's something like kansas, so i would think, with open farm fields on either side with not so much as a tree or building to break the monotony even once. the road is a flat black, having taken a beating from the sun for so many years, and has a crackled yellow dashed line to allow passing as far as i can see.
the truck came up from behind me without so much as a whisper. yet normally a semi would make some sort of ruckus as it steamed up the road. the passenger door flings itself open a full 180 degrees hitting the hood of the truck with the rusty ping of steel. a voice yells out 'you still need that ride?' as if he almost knew where i was going. i say he because this voice was deep and raspy. the voice of a trucker truckin' his way through kansas. i, without answering, step up into this semi. the interior reeks of retro and i think to myself that the smell may be coming from the crushed velvet. the interior looks like something you would find in one of those hourly rate motels with a vibrating bed and a jacuzzi tub in the shape of a heart.
before i could even grab the door to get it closed the trucker is driving and shifting gears, the door closing from the forward momentum. he tells me i look out of place, that i shouldn't be on a road like this alone. the rest of this trip becomes somewhat blurry and i can't remember anything up until getting out.
i step out onto a plateau road, it's curve is rather sharp and the only thing protecting cars from careening off into a tumble down the hill is a small picket fence. a wood fence with reflectors on it. the truck grinds off up the hill and i begin walking again, but this time not up the road, but i hop over the fence and head down the hill. tall weeping willows hang overhead and i'm engrossed in a world that thrives on the color green. a house makes itself present in the distance and i think to myself that this is the place i've been trying to reach. this is everything. i will find the answer here.
as i walk across the field and get closer to the house i see that the trucker has played a more key part in this adventure than i had thought because the truck with the smelly crushed velvet interior is sitting idle in the driveway of this house.
i walk my way around the back where an amplified sound of gun shots can be heard. no so much gun shots, but cannon shots. its a loud boom, like something you'd expect from a military base. and it echoes through this small valley. i find it ironic that nestled in such a peaceful sea of nature there sits a house that is firing intense weapons. i creep closer on to the estate of this house and deeper into the backyard when the gun and it's attendees come into sight.
this is the point where i stood in this yard frozen in time. if there is even time in a dream i'm not sure, but if there is, i took a good amount of it to stare with my mouth held open, tears welling in my eyes, at what i saw.
it was me. lots of me. atleast a dozen. not firing the weapon, but becoming the bullet. the me's were standing in a line from the back of the gun where a man with a heavy blunt object resembling a pipe would hit me over the head, take my dead or unconsious body, load it in this monstrocity of a weapon and fire it. my body careened up in the air where it would land hundreds of yards away into a field of dog-like animals that would tear and eat at me. the other me's in the line made no attempt to fight or run. they just waited for their time to die. looking at their faces i can see that they're glazed over, eyes rolled into the back of their head, with dry chapped lips outlining an open mouth.
at some point during this viewing i was spotted, because i was now being yelled at. i started to back up and run in a backwards motion, keeping my eyes on this man. this very man who had driven me here. the semi driver. the smell of the truck was in my nose again and fear overcame me. i tripped in my attempt to run backwards but was quickly back up. with another glance back towards the man and the weapon i can see that he had released those dog-like beasts and now they were chasing me. and they were fast. they barked at me, but it didnt sound like barking dogs but more like the roar of a small dinosaur. i was scared. i remember feeling like these animals were going to reach me and tear into me.
i ran back up the hill from which i came. the environment was no longer green, but brown. it was as if the world around me was decaying and falling apart. this place was about to die and so was i. i turned to find the dogs right behind me, one actually jumping at me with a mouth open so wide - so full of intent to bite and cause pain.
i woke up with that animals face clear in my mind.
the smell of crushed velvet filled my bedroom.
i found myself desperately needing a ride. to the place i was going i'm sure i would never normally go, but in this state it was all i could focus on. the road i'm walking down is one i've never been on, but can have a mental picture about, as i'm sure you could too. it's something like kansas, so i would think, with open farm fields on either side with not so much as a tree or building to break the monotony even once. the road is a flat black, having taken a beating from the sun for so many years, and has a crackled yellow dashed line to allow passing as far as i can see.
the truck came up from behind me without so much as a whisper. yet normally a semi would make some sort of ruckus as it steamed up the road. the passenger door flings itself open a full 180 degrees hitting the hood of the truck with the rusty ping of steel. a voice yells out 'you still need that ride?' as if he almost knew where i was going. i say he because this voice was deep and raspy. the voice of a trucker truckin' his way through kansas. i, without answering, step up into this semi. the interior reeks of retro and i think to myself that the smell may be coming from the crushed velvet. the interior looks like something you would find in one of those hourly rate motels with a vibrating bed and a jacuzzi tub in the shape of a heart.
before i could even grab the door to get it closed the trucker is driving and shifting gears, the door closing from the forward momentum. he tells me i look out of place, that i shouldn't be on a road like this alone. the rest of this trip becomes somewhat blurry and i can't remember anything up until getting out.
i step out onto a plateau road, it's curve is rather sharp and the only thing protecting cars from careening off into a tumble down the hill is a small picket fence. a wood fence with reflectors on it. the truck grinds off up the hill and i begin walking again, but this time not up the road, but i hop over the fence and head down the hill. tall weeping willows hang overhead and i'm engrossed in a world that thrives on the color green. a house makes itself present in the distance and i think to myself that this is the place i've been trying to reach. this is everything. i will find the answer here.
as i walk across the field and get closer to the house i see that the trucker has played a more key part in this adventure than i had thought because the truck with the smelly crushed velvet interior is sitting idle in the driveway of this house.
i walk my way around the back where an amplified sound of gun shots can be heard. no so much gun shots, but cannon shots. its a loud boom, like something you'd expect from a military base. and it echoes through this small valley. i find it ironic that nestled in such a peaceful sea of nature there sits a house that is firing intense weapons. i creep closer on to the estate of this house and deeper into the backyard when the gun and it's attendees come into sight.
this is the point where i stood in this yard frozen in time. if there is even time in a dream i'm not sure, but if there is, i took a good amount of it to stare with my mouth held open, tears welling in my eyes, at what i saw.
it was me. lots of me. atleast a dozen. not firing the weapon, but becoming the bullet. the me's were standing in a line from the back of the gun where a man with a heavy blunt object resembling a pipe would hit me over the head, take my dead or unconsious body, load it in this monstrocity of a weapon and fire it. my body careened up in the air where it would land hundreds of yards away into a field of dog-like animals that would tear and eat at me. the other me's in the line made no attempt to fight or run. they just waited for their time to die. looking at their faces i can see that they're glazed over, eyes rolled into the back of their head, with dry chapped lips outlining an open mouth.
at some point during this viewing i was spotted, because i was now being yelled at. i started to back up and run in a backwards motion, keeping my eyes on this man. this very man who had driven me here. the semi driver. the smell of the truck was in my nose again and fear overcame me. i tripped in my attempt to run backwards but was quickly back up. with another glance back towards the man and the weapon i can see that he had released those dog-like beasts and now they were chasing me. and they were fast. they barked at me, but it didnt sound like barking dogs but more like the roar of a small dinosaur. i was scared. i remember feeling like these animals were going to reach me and tear into me.
i ran back up the hill from which i came. the environment was no longer green, but brown. it was as if the world around me was decaying and falling apart. this place was about to die and so was i. i turned to find the dogs right behind me, one actually jumping at me with a mouth open so wide - so full of intent to bite and cause pain.
i woke up with that animals face clear in my mind.
the smell of crushed velvet filled my bedroom.