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The Movie Review That Never Was

I woke up thinking about a movie review that I'd written in my head. Or visualized. I thought I wrote down notes for it on this square of toilet paper on my bedside table but apparently I hadn't, and I realized in the dream that it wasn't a movie that I was reviewing at all, it was just a dream.

It started out in a parking lot, in some Northern city.

I was driving around with my mom and sister, and my sister noted how there were only old cars up here... in a somewhat derogatory way. I said something along the lines of: but that's why I love it here! Because we don't have any of those chunky; ungainly cars you have down South. These cars actually have metal chassis. They're real cars. Plus every third car or so is a SAAB. Was it every third car though? Maybe SAAB was a bit less common?

Anyway the season was winter, and the landscape snowy - though not overly so, and we drove around an open block surrounded by low apartment complexes and buildings. The roads were wide, as were the pavements, and there was a rectangular parking lot in the middle with a looot of cars.

The low and open landscape made it feel all the more icy.

Moments later it's sunny. Summer. California maybe. We venture into a city a little bigger than the last, and a little more dangerous.

I'm with two buddies now instead of family, though I don't recall exactly who. We run into a gang, and for some reason two of us decide to climb a very steep hill with one of them. I'm not a part of that particular expedition, but I trust it'll be alright as one of the buddies I sent along with the other gang leader has a horrible scar on his back - no idea as to what or where that came from, if ever I'd dreamt of him before, but I really trusted him. The scar was irrevocable and awe-inducing proof.

During the climb I think I am one of the guys after all. We're headed up a very steep and grassy hillside. The gang member leading the way is in incredible shape I think as we move upward, but so are we, as we follow him easily. I might've been as surprised as I was mostly because I'm really not in that good shape in real life, but it is a dream so...

A way up the hill he turns around and asks us for something. I don't recall what it was, but we're suspicious, thinking maybe this is when he'll make his move... when suddenly a man, sitting in a tree with a rifle, reveals himself beside us.

He's on our side. He's the law, possibly, and the gang leader doesn't have a chance. I wonder if maybe I'm a gang leader myself though.

The dream switches over to the gang house, where another friend is left with the gang, and gets on friendly terms with them by taking control over the kitchen, and selling and/or making them something, don't recall what. He's Asian btw. Very friendly. It seems like a parody of sorts. The tough gang members all gather around, and suddenly they're kind and gullible and they're all laughing and having the time of their lives...

Switch over to a school, where all students apparently have to move through security, and it's this one kid's fault. He's the son of a police man I think, but maybe he is one himself too, because as he passes security he shows his badge, only it's a credit card, but he knows it's an ID card in the dream. A golden MasterCard.

Two guards look it over closely and let him through. He's only allowed to carry the weapons he carries because of that badge, which really isn't a badge, which really is a problem. But in the dream it wasn't, even though the reason they had that security check in the first place was in fact specifically because he had said weaponry.

I'm not the gang member up on the mountain any longer. In fact I'm not even sure I'm part of a gang. I meet up with my mom by a market, she has a table there that I take over as she moves off to manage some other errands, but the ladies she was with are on their way away somewhere and soon I'm headed off in a car with them. We're driving to meet up with my mom though. Some kind of meet. Hopefully not a gang-related one.

I managed to sift through some boxes before we took off in the car, and though I don't recall what they contained now that I'm awake I do remember there some items of interest there...

And that's the dream. Woke up and tried to memorize at least the essential parts of it to write down but certain details have now withered away.

It's Sunday, and day. Just posted, this late.

Blooms Of The Third Moon

It's snowing outside...

Who would've thought we'd have snow in the middle of March? Down here in Stockholm where we usually don't even have it for Christmas.

It's been a strange year this year, not least with the covid strain sweeping through our human realm and populating with pandemic swoop result, but also with the weather.

Also with a lot of things, but let's just focus on the weather since that's what we Swedes typically tend to do when we get together and don't have anything else to talk about. Or don't dare take the step to controversies over common courtesies. I don't know if it's really like that anymore. Maybe be a myth but...

Some time last year - not sure when - we had a full month of cloud. Not a ray of light. Not total darkness but total gray and gloomy all day, and short days.

A few weeks in I was getting severely depressed; reminded of how old posts I'd posted where I seemed overly so were really not blown out of proportion at all. That's really how you feel when you feel like that. and then when everything gets better you forget how low those lowest points can be... until you return there, to that bottomless quicksand pit it seems life throws you to every now and then, most recently for work-related uncertainty woes and/or simply lack of sunshine.

But the sun rays came back, and Christmas passed, and the day after we had snow. Just for a couple of days. Just enough to remind us that it really was Christmas.

The weather relapsed to melting again, then came New Year, and in came the snow again! To remind us it really was a New Year after all.

And then it passed, and all returned to normal, the weather started getting warmer, but the nights were cold and the days cloudy and still somewhat bleak... and then came the snow again!!! This time in full force.

It snowed so you could actually shovel, and feel there was snow, and it stayed for a whooping three weeks and then some! Didn't melt once. You could see the edges slowly creep away against the gravel on the sunniest days, and I spent one particular weekend walking so much I almost got burnt, in February! Who would've thought.

Gradually the snow piles grew lower, and then in three days and nights it melted away, leaving only gravel-strewn piles here and there as a winter memento, and the days went, and work picked up again, it seemed to get warmer, but the nights grew colder, and the day before yesterday the snow started falling again...

Just a little then, but today it's all out storm, and the world that was recently Springing up in green and turquoise (I don't know that it really was, it just seemed like a suitable color combo call out here) is suddenly covered in white once again.

Was actually feeling a little under the weather when I woke up today, maybe a bit too many late nights; early mornings; too much weight vests on walks in an attempt to get in shape without making extra time-consuming effort... but I've been eating supplements, feeling better, and as the layers pile outside I currently feel the best I've felt in a while today.

Almost had to let that one rhyme, like I do sometimes, though it makes better sense like this. Like chips. They make sense but don't make amends or bliss.

In normal wording now I realize I've come to actually really like snow.

On the darkest days it's what gives me hope. Whenever it comes around I brighten up. The world brightens up. Everything looks softer, and cozier, and clearer. It hides the dirt. It hides the trash people throw away. A shopping cart someone had dragged to a nearby underpass was entirely submerged for those full three winter weeks earlier on. We thought someone had finally fetched it.

I used to love summers like no other season, but lately I've been loathing the heatwaves that come with it, and realizing that maybe the thing I like most about them is really the sun, and in darker seasons the snow is almost like it's paler cousin. Like a third moon.

It might not give out as much D-vitamin and UV light, but it reflects the light there is. It's a helpful helper. A gifted uplifter. And ever since I started taking these daily cold showers I seem to have all the more an affinity for the cold that comes with it.

I love the sun. I love the snow. The way the weather's turning maybe we'll get a snowy summer this year too. And supposedly the gulf stream's stopping. Maybe we'll get a summer ice age too. Who knows?

Was going to weave in some mementos from last night's dream here too but I got side-tracked; don't remember that much about it anymore.

There were people after us though. The family has gathered in a room somewhere. A cozy place. We covered the windows. I crept in under a blanket. I was small again....

But summer's coming soon and it'll be fall again.

A Non-Mentionable Little Hillside Garden Dream

I dreamt that I was walking up the hillside.

We were visiting this old dude's house. Not that old, hair distinctively grayed - that kind of old - and wandering through his hillside garden.

It seemed to slope into infinity.

The air was hazy and you couldn't see the end of the slope for all the clouds, but the greenery was lush and the hedges, trees and various garden monuments and decorations were plentiful.

It was the kind of garden you'd imagine seeing by a larger castle, but this was just the one man.

He dabbled in natural remedies I think, and was cooking up some kind of concoction in a large cauldron on the lawn, with a boiler beside it, and some smaller pot or similar.

It was boiling ferociously: the bubbles a constant stream as if someone was in each cauldron/kettle/container breathing our air beneath the surface with never-emptying lungs.

It was something for us. I asked about it. Not sure what he answered.

Regarding who the 'us' was I'm not sure about that either. I was walking around and the rest of 'us' weren't anywhere to be seen, as far as I can remember...

Soon after we were walking through the house though - corridors paneled in dark, polished wood - and plenty of people were sitting on benches along the walls.

It felt like a museum, with glassed-in displays of various figures the man had made.

I looked into a little room curiously, full of wooden sculptures and other artistry that followed the walls, and then walked around a corner and... that's all I remember of that particular part of the dream.

Moments earlier I was climbing around in a sunny, dusty attic, and doing I can no longer recall what... but I wasn't a kid. I felt at home anyway. I think I was just exploring. The sunlight hazily falling in and warming.

Moments before that I was in the car, and I think good buddy Andreas was along for the ride, though not sure where we were going. Maybe to Övermorjärv. I'm not sure I saw the sights, just that we were on our way.

Maybe the dream was inspired by this one beautiful house I caught a glimpse of yesterday, looking for potential places to move.

It turned out to be way beyond my budget though. A nice place by a lake... with renovations worth ca 2,500,000 SEK the last few years. O_O

Alrighty then, I don't think I'll be leaving a bid on that...

But it was a - I think - pretty good dream. Hazy albeit the memory now may be.

I'm writing this more for purpose of practice and relaxation than recollection really. Thinking maybe I'd pick up a few more details as I write. Thinking if I just get into the writing I'll feel better about myself today, too. It worked, somewhat.

Now time to jump into some other more overdue dues...

The Jungle Gym Corona Guesthouse Island Dream

Had a weird dream earlier - though aren't they all? Typed it out before I forgot it...

It started by the commuter train in Bro, the residential area I currently reside in. Right before the train station there's a slope down towards the entrance, with a small parking area for bikes, and some trees and shrubbery on a side piece lawn.

In my dream that lawn was much wider, and on it: a jungle gym. The kind that looks like a netted dome, with thick metal bars that let you climb around easily.

It strikes me now that here in Sweden this type is really remarkably rare.

Though maybe they're rare everywhere now. Maybe they started switching out those metal bars with chain and plastic or cloth-based ones - and usually just a horizontal square embedded in a wooden frame - so I assume there's less risk of falling down and hurting yourself as you sometimes would with/or on those metal bars.

When I grew up abroad that metal dome was all the more common though. So anyway: that was the one in my dream. Nostalgia maybe.

There were a couple of younger kids there, but I decided to play around anyway, and probably did some stunts to impress them because they looked at me with respect and awe.

The sun was shining. It was a nice summery day - in great contrast to the present time real-life gray and dreary.

After a while I looked over at the board counting down the time to the next train - a relatively large black display with bright green numerals, right beside the sloping path down to the station entrance - and I realized I had just three minutes to go! Checking my pockets I realized I didn't have neither phone nor commuter card on me, and just three minutes... would it be enough to sprint home and back and catch that train?

I processed the thought as the seconds trickled away, and though my thought process started optimistic (in reality it'd take at least ten minutes home and back) I eventually resigned myself to the fact that I probably wouldn't make it after all.

At this point I'd started slowly walking towards the station entrance anyway though, and when I looked back: there was my card/wallet! On the ground. I'd left them there before I started hanging around on the jungle gym!

Time was of the essence now, so I bolted faster than I maybe ever have towards the station, so fast my feet barely touched the ground, yet suddenly the so very short slope down to the entrance started to stretch further and further away, as if to make room for my inhumanely speedy sprint which would otherwise probably not have been spatially possible.

To make things interesting a train was pulling up on each side of the platform when I rushed onto it - each one going in a different direction - and one was leaving, and the other just arriving, and I didn't know which I was supposed to catch! Both of them looked more like freight trains than commuter trains too. And that's where this particular bit of the dream ended.

Skip to Buddy Bear.

I was chilling at his place, participating in activities I do not in detail recall (but most probably food or movie related), and we started talking about housing, and his plans to maybe move.

We walked over to the door and looked out at the palm trees that swayed outside in a cool night breeze.

The entrance was level to the ground. His house looked a bit like a one-story apartment or bungalow at some tourist resort, and I reminisced over the views. Those palm trees...

Wouldn't he miss those? And that beach within walking distance? Nah, he said, he didn't get to see the sea after all. But then I looked a little to the left and you could clearly see the sea there. So close. I pointed this out and we both looked at it with fascination, the moon reflected upon the calm azure surface of the cove...

He actually lives in a pretty normal-looking apartment. Third floor. No water. No palm trees.

Next thing I know I'm in a similar apartment - if not the same one - but with a bunch of other people. The hostess, a neighbor up North we're all very fond of, comes over and we start talking about the Corona situation.

She feels like it's pretty odd that people don't really take social distancing seriously. Nobody's wearing a mask at the party, and nobody's really distancing either. The place is packed. When everyone arrived they were a bit more cautious but now it really is a full-on party, and nobody seems to mind. People done stopped caring.

I agree. We talk a bundle and have a great time.

In the middle of our conversation I get a video notification from @S3C, of this woman from what seems like an oddly civilized jungle tribe, going through some kind of ritual where she's submerged under water and learning to breath.

She's lying on her back in a shallow pool of clear water in a sandy excavation, with a group of tribesmen gathered around; witnessing the miracle.

They aren't forcing her. She's willingly submerged and actually seems to be breathing water.

The video starts a bit more ASMR-like though. You see only her lips, as she gives voice to the wisdoms of life... and I really wish I remembered the exact words here because at least in the dream they felt incredibly enlightening. The secret to life and all, uncovered in this brief very stylishly initiated red lipped ritual video...

Turns out this ritual is going on not too far off, so I head down this long sandy road that cuts through faraway plains and seems to never end...

On the way, on the mountainous plateau of what is now a far-off tropical island, a gang of criminals or pirates are fighting some unknown enemy.

It's a bit chaotic.

This one guy's trying to fence off a tiger with some weapon that really doesn't seem powerful enough to scare it (or no weapon at all? Not sure), but it does keep its distance... until he suddenly gets submerged in a sinkhole, with only his hands left above the ground. The tiger closes in for the kill... but somehow he manages to bring his upper body over the ground again, and is stabbing himself in the side. Not the tiger. Himself.

The tiger's gone.

Not sure what happened to everyone else, but a gathering of rich people are heading off in a helicopter. White-suit clad and suspicious-looking.

White, suit-clad and suspicious looking too, btw. As rich folks often are.

The long road is now gone, the tribe is forgotten, the guys who didn't embark on the chopper are nowhere to be seen, and the world is suddenly just that one tropical island again, with no roads or plains anywhere near, just endless sea on all sides and lush palm trees/shrubbery around me.

At the top of this high rounded island plateau there's a house, similar to Buddy Bear's unreal dreamy apartment bungalow, and the guesthouse I was just in, but the guests have changed again.

I'm not sure I know any of them now.

I realize there are large yellow plastic tanks roped to the side of a wall that runs around the property - the house surrounded by a small but very evenly distributed short-cut lawn before the wall, and though I don't think I ever say this out loud in the dream I realize they've rigged the whole island to blow, and all of us with it. Just so we don't reveal their plans!

What plans? I don't know. I'm not sure I ever did.

We need to get off the island though.

I find a kayak just hanging over a cliff - or more so the edge of a small ravine that digs into the island - which we start getting into; aiming to drop down from the cliff with and make it away safely.

I say "Wait! Shouldn't we rope ourselves down a bit?".

So we don't just fall out and all over the place, of course.

We start (or I start?) taking some of the surplus ropes that are wound around the tanks to tie us all in. I start thinking maybe we could even partially lower the kayak somewhat with the ropes before we let go. Now that I'm awake it dawns on me it would've been way better to just climb down the ropes. No kayak. Dream logic huh.

In the dream my mind does adjust the drop to the water a bit.

At first it's so incredibly high there's no way we'd realistically survive! You can barely see the bottom. The more I look the better it both seems and gets, and after a while it's just a short drop and we're home free! Rapid scale global warming.

But before this: We've gotta eat, so we gather all the food we can find.

There's a lot of packaged stuff, stashed away in all kinds of colorful bags and plastic coolers, and we've gathered this by the kayak, initially planning to take it with us. But there's no way we'll fit both us and this stuff in the kayak. There's maybe ten or twelve of us. So we have a snack, then remember the bombs and how we better really get a move on...

I just have to go take a piss, so I go within those walls that surround the house (both building and lawn are now empty - everybody else is by the kayak) and do my thing. It all seems so eerie and silent though, I get spooked and turn around, and there's a wolf there, silently creeping up on me along the side of the house, staring right at me...

I have no weapons. There's nothing I can do to protect myself. But in my dream I suppose I felt it was getting a bit too serious, so I turn around and attempt to piss on the wolf - with moderate success - and it runs away, apparently disgusted. Almost too easy to be true.

There's a little seal too btw. I don't know where I found it, but I carry it around since of course I have to take it off the island too, and it's great. I feed it rice cakes and some strange kind of blue Rice Krispies kind of snack that I wouldn't ever eat myself considering it's probably just packed chock-full of Azo dyes and those usually give me allergic reactions... but the seal doesn't seem to mind. It appreciates everything I give it.

Don't know how we get off the island but moments later we're home free, and I'm in my local bathtub hanging out with my seal.

Now that's a dream.

Cyberdevil seal of approval.

The Morbid Joe Rogan Jackass Dream

I had the most gruesome Jackass experience last night.

It started with Joe Rogan though. Somehow I was in his JRE podcast room - though it was mobile, with large panorama windows - moving through what I assumed was his recently purchased Texas estate.

I took some photos when he wasn't looking; captured scenes from these lands most people wouldn't ever get a peek of. It felt a bit like traveling through the fields of Jurassic Park. Only no dinosaurs.

At first we swept past a long barnyard, painted red and white like they are in Sweden, something that caught me by surprise since this was not Sweden even in my dream.

The grass was universally green though, the hills and fields billowing, and what at first appeared to be a farm-related field soon stretched out like a Savannah into the distance, and we followed along down a small slope, nearing a lake and surrounding grass-covered marshland.

The initial impression faded and I'm not sure what came right after that, but it really was a beautiful place...

Next thing I know we're at a Jackass-related event. Or theme park. Or HQ. Not sure.

Warning: It gets a bit graphic after this.

There's a small cobblestone/concrete courtyard entrance where some of the crew are gathered, as well as some members I don't think really are members but apparently were in this particular dream.

There's an art-like section of the wall where cross-hatched blue wood climbs up in rectangle-like beams, and kids are crawling all over them.

It looks dangerous, and Knoxville comes up to me and asks if I can keep an eye on those kids.

Sure thing.

I'm already just waiting for one of them to fall down, and this one kid at the very top of the beam finally does.

I manage to run in and catch him at the last moment.

It feels like the entire wall is just covered with soon-to-be Jackass wannabees - the parents standing below just watching, but they seem to assess the seriousness of the situation after this, and call down their kids. Some of them, at least.

Meanwhile there's a Jackass member smashing a glass bottle over his forehead nearby.

I don't recognize him, but he looks a bit like Steve-O and Jim Carrey as Eggman in the recent Sonic movie combined.

Moments later he's pulling his upper front teeth out of his mouth, and the blood is gushing.

It's grotesque, and even more so because he's smiling all the time. It's just a stunt, but I wonder how much blood you can really spit out before it becomes dangerous. Gets me thinking of Fight Club.

Is this really in that same somewhat harmless vein of Jackass entertainment as I'm used to? What has this become?

Soon he's getting nailed to a wall - the wall only as high as his lower back, in a way where it almost feels like his upper and lower body could get detached at any moment. He's smiling all the way though, and the crowd's cheering him on. It's the last and most grotesque stunt I remember before I wake up in a cold sweat, wondering how and why my mind would ever drift to such a dark place in the first place...

Recollections of ECW documentaries I've seen where the wrestlers intentionally prick themselves with razors come to mind, and shed so much blood during a match that sometimes they'd wipe the blood off their forehead and just a second later it'd be covered in blood again, as described by a referee in one bizarre recollection of matches that almost went too far, all for the enjoyment of their devoted fans.

There was also that one guy (was it Sabu?) who accidentally blew up his hand and walked around the dressing room squirting blood so intensely the other wrestlers just thought it was a prank. Fortunately an ambulance picked him up; he made it out of that alive.

Not to mention the table jump gone wrong where New Jack lost a part of his brain, and sight on one eye.

Don't know why these memories are all flooding back right now. I watched them a long while ago, and haven't seen anything remotely morbid in a long time... but that's the dream. Not a dream dream. Maybe it's these dystopian times that call forth the darkest memories.

I stayed in bed very deliberately daydreaming better things a few hours after this; got up way too late today. Headache blasting.

If you for any reason are now thinking about getting into that ECW documentary mentioned above I'd highly recommend you go watch some uplifting comedy instead.

Good day...

Dreaming Away

Had a crazy amount of strange dreams a while back, and none of them were very much fun. Jotted down the following before I forgot them...

I was hanging around with a group of disabled people in a mental ward somewhere. We were all gathered in one large room at the top of a building, though before I reached the room I spent a large part of the dream just wandering through a long empty hallway; getting there. It was all very clinical. Hospital-like. But empty.

I accidentally bumped into one of the disabled guys at the end of the hallway, as he was somehow hiding behind a wall, or door, that I needed to bump heads with to get in. I shouldn't have had too though, as the hallway was wide and easy to maneuver, so I'm not sure how or why I bumped into him at all or felt like I had to within said dream.

In the room we met again. I talked to a few of the people there. At first I felt out of place, but the more I spoke to them the more fun I realized they were.

The guy from the hallway wanted me to help them, but I said that I'm no doctor. He started digging through drawers and bringing me things, like this heavy metal rod, which I surprisingly knew the name and purpose of, and impressed him (and myself) with my know-how thereof.

After being in the room for a while a warden/worker/caretaker came in and announced they were headed to Woodstock, which was in this alternative reality just past Stockholm, and wondered if I wanted to come with them. I'd driven there in the company minibus though (don't have a company minibus - another inconsistency of the mystery) and reluctantly said I needed to drive that back. But then I asked if they could drop me off at the station, as if that'd somehow circumvent the minibus problem? And so we were headed to Woodstock anyway. No problem.

Moments later we were in a both old and futuristic coastal down. The streets sloped downwards like in San Francisco, but the concrete structures and skyscrapers looked more like Tokyo. The streets were wide as in Latvia. A bit withered. The air a haze of pollution and the sidewalks of movement, though the stream of cars was sparse, and didn't match the sight of such a city at all.

Over the mountaintop we could see elevators moving up a slope, and impressive feats of architecture moving in their own accord. It was both impressive and dystopian somehow. The industrial yet optimistic and open milieu reminded me of Japan in the eighties, but everything was so much wider, and grander, and this entire city was built upon what seemed to be the slope of a steep mountain rather than a coast at all, leading down towards a steep drop or ravine.

We left the bus, and I lost sight of the group. I couldn't keep up. We went down a steep slope, then into an underground subway system, and suddenly we were split up.

I tried to move past people. I took a shortcut up a set of stairs instead of the escalator that ran beside it, but at the top of the stairs the ceiling swooped down, the walls went inwards, and on the dark yellow marble edges around a square hole with rounded corners there was a text that read something like: "I spy on you all the time".

No way I was crawling through that hole. I panicked. I turned back and headed down the stairs, pushing past a line of people, and I assume somewhat subconsciously shifted my dream to something somewhat more comfortable.

My girl was watching me when I woke up - in my dream, lying on her side facing me, stroking my chest. She looked a bit like Megan Fox. Said I'd had nightmares. I said she had too.

I don't know when I teleported after that, but somehow I was in @larrynachos room. He's an NG user I've spoken to before, but not recently at the time of this dream, and definitely not one I know very well.

I was still in his room though. There were lego-based letters on the window sill, though I didn't notice they were LEGO-based at first. They looked rounded, and in varying color. The l a r r y n ran in a squiggly line first, then there was something in the way, then a c h o s.

That's how I knew it was larrynachos.

Below the window sill there was a table covered with LEGO, and as I started going through the pieces I realized those title letters were LEGO too, and decided to stack them on top of each other, to make a horizontal larrynachos billboard.

It seemed like a great idea at first, and the letters changed form so they now had grooves on top of bottom that'd let you stick them together, but as I neared the end of my skyscraper they changed form again and suddenly they were just regular blocks of LEGO, and I started wondering if this was really a stable skyscraper structure after all. I accidentally broke one of the letters and the rest started crumbling. And that's when larrynachos entered the room.

Fortunately he wasn't as devastated as he could have been, and we had a good time. We talked, we built LEGO stuff, and I'm pretty sure there was something more to this particular segment of the dream but I no longer recall it.

At another point I was moving through tunnels.

I think my family was with me, or at least big brother David. As if in a game we moved from layer to layer, facing all sorts of foul monsters and flying beasts along the way. Some were parody-like, like a dungeon full of black Angry Birds that came at us with sharp claws, yet some were more grotesque, with melting floors of flesh-like texture.

I remember a lot of stages but no particular details. Don't know how we started this venture or where we left of.

I was in the woods too, up in my mother's home town, I believe, at a time and season where nobody was there, the air was cold, and the moon shone a blue light on the canvas of forestry around me. That was that. That's all I remember from that point in my dream.

And I was in a mountain house. Not sure where; not sure how, but it was a red and white cottage (traditional Swedish style) on a slope that started soft but grew to an alarming level of steepness. Our garden turned into a cliff, yet it was grass all the way, soft and rounded and seemingly safe until it just slipped away beneath your feat.

I was in the house with a few others, and we were experimenting with some form of injection. It was supposed to improve things, but it turns out it just made you crazy. We were all friends, though I didn't recognize the other people's faces at all.

The first friend laughed and killed himself. Not sure how. The second one, seeing this, tried to take the injection voluntarily. I realized they were probably under the influence even without an injection, and tried stopping him, knocking him unconscious.

It didn't work. He seemed to want to kill us as much as he wanted to kill himself, but always with a smile on his face. No regrets. No remorse. Just like the well-rounded carpet of grass that sloped off into oblivion he'd decided to move on to the next plane of existence with a smile on his face. Feel the soft grass under your feet and just slip away.

Maybe that was when I woke up and my girl was stroking my chest, telling me I'd had a nightmare. Déjà vu.

There was more, but at this point in writing it seems I've forgotten the rest.

Dreams are a fickle thing. And what do they mean? If you can make anything out of this be my guest. For once I really am curious... and a little distressed.

Over what you might find this implies in regard to my mind.

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