nighttime delights

Jun 14th, 2009 7:55:50 pm - Subscribe
Mood: deflated
lovely things:: Hot Toddies (these girls'll cheer you up or your money back)

Last night I was operating some sort of an antique record player that had a blade coming out of it. There was a bumpy ridge around my right hand ringfinger and the blade hit it. Bleeding but remarkably pain free, I cut around the outside of the finger to find a ring underneath the skin's surface. It said 'little' on it and had a tiny pink jewel on the I. I used to wear the ring when I was younger and then over the years skin had grown over it. And I was no longer little.

***

I believe last monday it was, vampires had taken over everything and I was a princess that they were after. I hid in the outhouse out in that Ukrainian village, where these things always end up taking place. I suppose living there wasn't enough, I have to visit every so often in alternate states. I watched through a hole in the boards as they outlined what they were planning to do to the rest of the world and to me, once they found me. I was dragged out and they were about to finish me on the exact spot that that pig was butchered. But then I started crawling around in the mud and embarked on a quest to follow the colours that had happened due to some mushrooms I'd taken in the outhouse. The vampires thought this cute and laughingly let me go on exploring behind the barn. Then I hid up in the hay loft with somebody I knew. Something naked and sexy occurred. Those spiders were probably there as well. They were outside pacing, once again trying to find me.

***

Next night or so, I was in a tall apartment building that echoed the rooms of the one in the village. But the stories just rose and rose. Once again the end of the world collapse scenario. Bleak, destroyed place. We were making our way up the building. Racing against others that were after us and those leaping out of rooms that were just walls of peeled paint. They were snarling and swinging knives as we leapt up the stairs, stabbing whoever came closest. Breath tearing out, panic pounding against the ribcage. Just blind fear and instincts. We hid on some roof for a bit, lying low only to be mockingly pointed out to the attackers by someone else. More running. Hallways upon rooms upon dead ends. Opening and closing on one another; terror pumping while sneaking along pressed up against the walls. And then we were on acid and floating down the stairs past all the skeletal people.

They're back. The haunting loneliness, the booming silence of a destroyed world and the constant fear. It's all in these dreams. I love them, they have a certain creative quality that appeals to me, but I feel so disturbed upon waking. And it's something that can't be shaken easily, sometimes for days. An unpleasant taste in my mouth are these imagined scenes. They're all too real in how emotionally draining they can be.

And really, that sort of thing should be saved for the daytime. Young love is a beautiful thing but when you are dying to explain that to somebody close to you and they're a cold shoulder far out of reach and long gone by choice, that is the real heartbreak of daytime.
How do YOU get over losing things out of your control? How do YOU stop feeling so alone and abandoned by the side of road? How do YOU stop missing?

Drop some suggestions, won't you?

Comments: (2)

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Comments:

anonymous - June 23rd, 2009
But you don't stop missing.
That's the problem, isn't it.

I find that.

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visable - June 23rd, 2009
I find your style of writing mesmerizing.

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