Last Night
Sep. 4th, 2004 05:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phthalombrageFor over 12 hours I was asleep. So many dreams filtered through my mind. Not once was I in control. Not once was the world perfect. When I awoke,(at like 1 PM) all of this was apparent. However I forgot most of what I had seen within a couple hours. A couple of dreams I cannot share, for they would reveal too much and sink too deep. I shall impart my favorite one I can remember.
By the way... who dreams in black and white... I don't think I ever have... And I always dream from my eyes... I've only seen the rest of my body once to my knowledge... And is it weird to feel physical pain in dreams, yet wake up fine?
I was rounding the corner into the back hall of my house. My brother's guitar stuff was not there. My clothes, boxed up since Charley, were not there. The hall looked as it did when I met my friend the freaky lizard. *actually shivers* Nuuurrr. Little noises. Scratching. Right next to the bookcase. Doomsday. I pretended it would go away. I was in the doorway. Most of my body was wrapped around the edge of the wall. I stepped into the hall, then back. I glanced around. Should I tell my parents... I felt ashamed. Then I knew it was too late. Nightmare. A hole appeared, splinteringly enlarging in the fake-wood-grain paneling. Little rats popped out, swarming, invading. I darted into action. I rushed to the doorway of my bedroom. I had to hold them back, but they slipped past the scant defense of my body. Frantically, I tried to scoop them away. I noticed in the mirror the shape of my father. I avoided his face. I called out for help, relieved when he actually agreed. He got some form of cudgel and began beating the rats. He made a pile in the middle of the family room. I remember thinking it was odd that I knew this. I could see through the walls... And I heard no noise at all. No infernal squeaking. No blows to the spine. Only my own little groans, perhaps. Then he sprayed them with toxic chemicals. They became fragmented, like piles of ash and opaque meatballs. I dug through clothes on my floor and tossed the rats I found out into the hall. I had to catch them before they got buried. I didn't even care what happened. I was going to hold out, remove them all. On the other hand I have a fear of stepping on animals. I never got very far from the doorway, never standing upright. I decided the rats didn't look too much like rats, maybe mice. They were actually pretty cute. Brownish-grey, small, soft, with rounded ears. They couldn't stay alive with me, though. I wished I could see them better; the light wasn't on in my room. All the light was coming from the hall. I crawled around, clawing, looking behind the door, when my eyes traced upwards, slowly to my shadow on the wall. I only saw the silhouette of my head, with an upright mouse shape seemingly behind it... I groped at the dresser behind me. I swiped the air. Finally, I considered that it might actually be ON my head. My father appeared. He told me, Oh, it's okay, that one's already dead. he took it away. I was slightly aghast, but I missed it. The other rats no longer mattered. The dream faded into another.
Why was the rat already dead? Why did I know they would head in only one direction: my room? And why can I think of so many parallels... Also, why do I never wake up when my dreams are scary anymore?
Later, when I was at work, my father told me he had just taken out a squirrel. I inquired as to whether the corpse was in the middle of the road. He laughed. Yes, it's right behind here. Are you sorry? I asked. Then Frank responded- It's a rodent. He kills them for a living. How sorry do you think he is? My dad goes, Well, I didn't get paid... Then Frank goes I wonder what Amber will dream... She's in 6th grade. I'm sure she already dreams. Maybe it's because her mom is a crackhead? And her dad doesn't want her to think about it?
I was also shocked when Kaitlyn, the little elementary-school daughter of the manager, mentioned something about Mary-Kate and Ashley in connection to self-starvation. That's kinda heavy for a little kid. Then her brother goes that's cause she was a crackhead. And Kaitlyn was like no she didn't eat anything... And Craig was back with Well, if you don't have anything all day but crack, you're gonna lose weight. So people say this to kids nowadays? Maybe I was just sheltered? Perhaps, seeing as I was never allowed to do anything, have friends, or open the box of the majority of my birthday gifts.
By the way... who dreams in black and white... I don't think I ever have... And I always dream from my eyes... I've only seen the rest of my body once to my knowledge... And is it weird to feel physical pain in dreams, yet wake up fine?
I was rounding the corner into the back hall of my house. My brother's guitar stuff was not there. My clothes, boxed up since Charley, were not there. The hall looked as it did when I met my friend the freaky lizard. *actually shivers* Nuuurrr. Little noises. Scratching. Right next to the bookcase. Doomsday. I pretended it would go away. I was in the doorway. Most of my body was wrapped around the edge of the wall. I stepped into the hall, then back. I glanced around. Should I tell my parents... I felt ashamed. Then I knew it was too late. Nightmare. A hole appeared, splinteringly enlarging in the fake-wood-grain paneling. Little rats popped out, swarming, invading. I darted into action. I rushed to the doorway of my bedroom. I had to hold them back, but they slipped past the scant defense of my body. Frantically, I tried to scoop them away. I noticed in the mirror the shape of my father. I avoided his face. I called out for help, relieved when he actually agreed. He got some form of cudgel and began beating the rats. He made a pile in the middle of the family room. I remember thinking it was odd that I knew this. I could see through the walls... And I heard no noise at all. No infernal squeaking. No blows to the spine. Only my own little groans, perhaps. Then he sprayed them with toxic chemicals. They became fragmented, like piles of ash and opaque meatballs. I dug through clothes on my floor and tossed the rats I found out into the hall. I had to catch them before they got buried. I didn't even care what happened. I was going to hold out, remove them all. On the other hand I have a fear of stepping on animals. I never got very far from the doorway, never standing upright. I decided the rats didn't look too much like rats, maybe mice. They were actually pretty cute. Brownish-grey, small, soft, with rounded ears. They couldn't stay alive with me, though. I wished I could see them better; the light wasn't on in my room. All the light was coming from the hall. I crawled around, clawing, looking behind the door, when my eyes traced upwards, slowly to my shadow on the wall. I only saw the silhouette of my head, with an upright mouse shape seemingly behind it... I groped at the dresser behind me. I swiped the air. Finally, I considered that it might actually be ON my head. My father appeared. He told me, Oh, it's okay, that one's already dead. he took it away. I was slightly aghast, but I missed it. The other rats no longer mattered. The dream faded into another.
Why was the rat already dead? Why did I know they would head in only one direction: my room? And why can I think of so many parallels... Also, why do I never wake up when my dreams are scary anymore?
Later, when I was at work, my father told me he had just taken out a squirrel. I inquired as to whether the corpse was in the middle of the road. He laughed. Yes, it's right behind here. Are you sorry? I asked. Then Frank responded- It's a rodent. He kills them for a living. How sorry do you think he is? My dad goes, Well, I didn't get paid... Then Frank goes I wonder what Amber will dream... She's in 6th grade. I'm sure she already dreams. Maybe it's because her mom is a crackhead? And her dad doesn't want her to think about it?
I was also shocked when Kaitlyn, the little elementary-school daughter of the manager, mentioned something about Mary-Kate and Ashley in connection to self-starvation. That's kinda heavy for a little kid. Then her brother goes that's cause she was a crackhead. And Kaitlyn was like no she didn't eat anything... And Craig was back with Well, if you don't have anything all day but crack, you're gonna lose weight. So people say this to kids nowadays? Maybe I was just sheltered? Perhaps, seeing as I was never allowed to do anything, have friends, or open the box of the majority of my birthday gifts.
