One Who Wanders (abiona) wrote,
One Who Wanders

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I had a strange dream-nightmare last night that seemed very familiar to me in some way, though I was not able to peg the why quite down. These situations happened at both the same time and at different times, one leading to the other yet happening after it, separate and yet a product of the other that occured while the other was in progress.

He scaled the tree with the narrow rope in hand, marveling that the thorny bark was harmless to his bare feet. He ascended it in a right-ward moving circle, wishing to see where it led. He found the bloody bones of a torn body in the bowl formed by the divide of the tree's main body. Horrified, he lept back down and at home, discovered a pile of bones in the corner under his bed. He both hid under the same bed and avoided the bones and the thought of the bloody mass in the tree, fearing the discussion he heard outside his room. Were they coming for him?

We later realize that these are his bones, his body. Though he had changed his circumstances, he had not yet changed himself enough to avoid the future situtation.

What had once destroyed him had now been defeated.

Suspended in midair by a black substance not unlike tar and not unlike the qualities of gelatin, with a hint of irrevocable nature, she did not bother looking cheerful. When this had happened to her, when she had been swallowed by this enemy, no one had been able to find her amongst the ship-enemy's numerous passageways. She had been here, alone, for quite some time.

A swarm of bug-like creatures approached her like locusts, but she was too exhausted to do much more than stare and feel a vague worry about their progress. They did not, however, harm her - instead they cut the narrowest cable-like bonds joining her to the walls, and freed her hands. Still she was suspended by a large pillar of the black material, but now she was capable of limited movement.

She heard his voice, and though her own voice had long ago gone silent, she made an attempt to cry out. I'm here! Help me! She twisted and turned and yearned for the end of the hallway, so close to freedom, yet his voice seemed so far!

I'm not sure whether it's stress, depression, anger, or what, but I've reached a point where I am either vastly flabbergasted or vastly amused by all that I see before me. Such a world! Physically, I've reached the stage of something, where I frequently get these surges of something through my body that I can only describe as "twinges." These sometimes can get strong enough or "weird" enough feeling that they distort my vision momentarily, upset my sense of balance, and make me feel rather ill. I'm good at covering them up, though, and unless they get really bad you'll never see me waver when I walk. They happen less when I sit or when I lie down.

My second science exam went surprisingly well, although I could sadly label very few of the vessels leading away from the heart. Maybe I accidentally aced another one! I wonder if this says positive things about a hidden knack for science/taking tests, or whether it says negative things about his tests or his class in general.
Tags: dream writing

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