Sunday, February 20, 2011
I have another sinus infection, and I guess I overdosed a little bit on medicine. I was so desperate to make the burning go away and get some sleep. I finally fell asleep at about 6 in the morning. I walked the house of my mind. I know it's the inner house of my mind now, where I never knew it before. It was just as grey and empty as ever. And dark, because there is no lighting aside from what filters in from the day. I think it was Saraen that was with me, and some guy she had. I told them not to go to the second floor. Always if I go to the second floor, I experience terror even though I've never been attacked or seen anything there. It's just that's where the feelings of fear lurk. Next thing I knew creatures came down from the second floor. They were reaper type creatures made of grey old-fashioned funeral cloth. They didn't make any noise, but they came around anyway. I said to Saraen, "I TOLD you not to go to the second floor, but you did anyway." Her response was the usual noncommittal thing she gives, because she's going to do what she wants and to hell with who pays the consequences if it's not her. I wasn't afraid of them oddly enough. At this point Saraen and company disappeared from the dream. It was me and the reapers. One would come at me, and I'd use a sentence of power and put out my right palm to touch it. This would send it fleeing away. The sentences of power were ordinary sounding, like "Wash the dishes" only they weren't sentences you'd use in everyday conversation normally. I can't remember them now, but through this I know that deep down I know my own sentences of power. At one point I flipped up a reaper's skirting to see if there was anything inside. It was completely hollow. And it didn't like the invasion of privacy, I suspect. I used a sentence of power on it, too, and off it went. When I drove off the last reaper, I noticed there was a small white fox running laps around my feet. Maybe she was an arctic fox. She was beautiful, with small pointed ears and not the large ones like on a red fox. I saw her and knew I'd seen her two nights ago, and I knew she was a shapeshifting fox. I thought of her like a werewolf, but I guess the proper term is kitsune. Then I grabbed her by the scruff of her neck. I said to her,"Oh, how I wish I had your power. I'd let you bite me, if I thought it would give your power to me." Or maybe I said that first and then grabbed her. I can't remember. I held her thus, and my grip loosened a few times but I managed to get it back each time. AT one point I remember she had her teeth on me, but she didn't bite down. And she shapeshifted into human form. She was about the size of a Barbie with light brown hair and a White person's face. I began asking her questions. "What music do you like? Where do you come from? Are you from outside or is it me? Who was here first?" But she refused to answer and stayed quiet aside from a voiced noise of pain as my fingers continued to grip her hair and it pulled. I said, "You know, if you'd strike up a conversation with me I might be convinced to let you go." Nevermind the real reason why I'd clung so long to begin with was because I was afraid she'd bite and hurt me. She got that mischievous grin I get, and she said in my voice, "What kind of music?" And erupted in song. I mean she erupted like a radio. It was an old intro song to Saturday morning cartoons back when Kid Video was the song of the hour. Only the lyrics were all wrong. It said, "It's time for Sunday morning. It's time for Sunday morning." And all these weird voodoo poppet doll things erupted through the air in an arc like a puppet rainbow or some crazy shit. I saw them coming and watched. They were all shades of brown, no color at all. And I thought how silly, because the music didn't effect me the way it does everyone else in my head. I looked back down at the kitsune but I wasn't holding her anymore. She'd used the distraction to switch herself with one of the dolls. It was a burlap looking thing with heavy stitched seams and funny yarn hair. I noticed her lips were sewn shut with a very fine copper wire. And boom. I was out of the dream. Only I was somewhere else, thinking, and plotting time travel and coming up and out the way I do.