MD5: 290556c788ffa7a6687dc3399de8f7c5
MD5: frc="hos
CRYPT (form: $ MD5? $
$1$UxhNQYeV$Utw1omuZLZLvdVkCO8MtE0
(form:
psBnXzhqfP2vc
SHA1: 32c9bcb10ced7fe64cec67834a9947a19eb3ade6
REAPsm-150:
e29c3a319c695555557211
Tuesday, 7 December 2010
10.
MD5: 01c762463bf38b38ae66ff69f7cf5de5
MD5: 290556c788ffa7a6687dc3399de8f7c5
MD5: frc="hos
CRYPT (form: $ MD5? $WATER $ CRYPT):
$1$UxhNQYeV$Utw1omuZLZLvdVkCO8MtE0
(form:WATER[555555555555555555555555555555555555555] CRYPT[11]):
psBnXzhqfP2vc
SHA1: 32c9bcb10ced7fe64cec67834a9947a19eb3ade6
REAPsm-150:
e29c3a319c695555557211
MD5: 290556c788ffa7a6687dc3399de8f7c5
MD5: frc="hos
CRYPT (form: $ MD5? $
$1$UxhNQYeV$Utw1omuZLZLvdVkCO8MtE0
(form:
psBnXzhqfP2vc
SHA1: 32c9bcb10ced7fe64cec67834a9947a19eb3ade6
REAPsm-150:
e29c3a319c695555557211
9. Airship
The captain of the ship grabbed me by the shoulder and squeezed it (I do not like physically contact) and lead me to the wheel of his ship. No one was holding it, it just rocked from side to side. The captain was dressed in an amalgamation of various military uniforms. Japanese trench-coat with RAF markings. Green, almost toy-like helmet. American desert warfare pants and boots.
He told me that that things were not going as planned, that the enemy had moved much more quickly than he anticipated, but he had plans to rectify it. He seemed uneasy even as he smiled and patted my back.
...
The captain called to his first mate, a young man that may well of been his brother, this fellow opened a door and whistled for me to follow him. He wore a well pressed cadet uniform. I walked with the young man in silence. Wordlessly he put his hand into my pocket and left something there. He grinned...I could of swore he was wearing lip stick. After ten minutes or so we came to what I took to be the engine room.
...
Inside many shadows flittered over the walls. I soon realised these shades were alive. Though the crew were as ghosts, if one looked closely, as I did, they had the faces of painted dolls. Very old dolls, of porcelain. One even seemed to mouth "ma-ma", as one might expect from a doll.
I turned to the first mate, she was gone. I slowly made my way through the engine room, trying my level best not to interfere with the work of these spirits. They seemed to move in preset patterns, creating dark hieroglyphs across rusty gears and cogs.
I came across an open window and almost without thought I clambered out and onto a wing of the ship. I gazed at it in awe, it was like a cruise ship, but streamlined for flight, with many wings and was completely coal black. I felt the wind on my face and reached out to touch clouds.
Then I became aware of the altitude and my legs buckled. I skidded along the wing and almost plummeted to my death.
...
I climbed back through the window, almost becoming stuck half way. It must have altered size.
I arrived back at the wheel room, rather than the engine room. The captain held his first mate in the air and shuck him violently, his face red. His eyes fiery. He turned to me and snarled, a trap door opened beneath me. As I fell I thought I heard a bicycle bell.
He told me that that things were not going as planned, that the enemy had moved much more quickly than he anticipated, but he had plans to rectify it. He seemed uneasy even as he smiled and patted my back.
...
The captain called to his first mate, a young man that may well of been his brother, this fellow opened a door and whistled for me to follow him. He wore a well pressed cadet uniform. I walked with the young man in silence. Wordlessly he put his hand into my pocket and left something there. He grinned...I could of swore he was wearing lip stick. After ten minutes or so we came to what I took to be the engine room.
...
Inside many shadows flittered over the walls. I soon realised these shades were alive. Though the crew were as ghosts, if one looked closely, as I did, they had the faces of painted dolls. Very old dolls, of porcelain. One even seemed to mouth "ma-ma", as one might expect from a doll.
I turned to the first mate, she was gone. I slowly made my way through the engine room, trying my level best not to interfere with the work of these spirits. They seemed to move in preset patterns, creating dark hieroglyphs across rusty gears and cogs.
I came across an open window and almost without thought I clambered out and onto a wing of the ship. I gazed at it in awe, it was like a cruise ship, but streamlined for flight, with many wings and was completely coal black. I felt the wind on my face and reached out to touch clouds.
Then I became aware of the altitude and my legs buckled. I skidded along the wing and almost plummeted to my death.
...
I climbed back through the window, almost becoming stuck half way. It must have altered size.
I arrived back at the wheel room, rather than the engine room. The captain held his first mate in the air and shuck him violently, his face red. His eyes fiery. He turned to me and snarled, a trap door opened beneath me. As I fell I thought I heard a bicycle bell.
⚄
Power Outage
Unfortunate weather conditions forced me to stay yesterday's entry; all of the houses on my street are suffering a lack of electrical power. Mine is the first to come back on, which is pleasant. As a note, usually this would not matter, but the battery of my lap-top was flat, even though I was sure I had charged it.
Ah, my bedside lamp is flickering.
I will write two dreams quickly, before the lights fail.
Ah, my bedside lamp is flickering.
I will write two dreams quickly, before the lights fail.
Monday, 6 December 2010
A strange moment
When I came back from a forest hike yesterday my entire street was frozen. No one could start their vehicles and one poor man's porch window had cracked from the sudden drop in temperature. There was no snow however, not even on the rooftops.
As I came towards my house I noted my other neighbour (a large black woman I have never spoken to) was trying to open her front door. It would not budge, it was frozen at the hinges and all around the edge.
Her eyes were wide and she was shouting (she is very loud). I managed to stamp the ice from her door and help her open it.
She asked me why she should want to leave her house so abruptly; I of course did not know. After a moments pause she laughed, it should be a very nice laugh, perhaps a warm laugh, but I do not like to hear laughing very much so I went home.
As I came towards my house I noted my other neighbour (a large black woman I have never spoken to) was trying to open her front door. It would not budge, it was frozen at the hinges and all around the edge.
Her eyes were wide and she was shouting (she is very loud). I managed to stamp the ice from her door and help her open it.
She asked me why she should want to leave her house so abruptly; I of course did not know. After a moments pause she laughed, it should be a very nice laugh, perhaps a warm laugh, but I do not like to hear laughing very much so I went home.
Sunday, 5 December 2010
Cinematic wasn't it?
What did you think of the two-parter?
I've been working on that one on and off for ages, not particularly for him, but I thought you deserved something more than tunnels and enclosed rooms for once. Everything was a Poe reference by the way, he doesn't own a lot of reading material so I absorb what I can. Thats why he writes like a weirdo, just a few old books to his name.
As you read this I'll be squeezing some information out of one of my lot that specialises in keeping secrets. He can be bought though.
This'll be the last message I send before he rolls a one again. In the mean time I'm trying to discover a better way or two of taking control.
I've been working on that one on and off for ages, not particularly for him, but I thought you deserved something more than tunnels and enclosed rooms for once. Everything was a Poe reference by the way, he doesn't own a lot of reading material so I absorb what I can. Thats why he writes like a weirdo, just a few old books to his name.
As you read this I'll be squeezing some information out of one of my lot that specialises in keeping secrets. He can be bought though.
This'll be the last message I send before he rolls a one again. In the mean time I'm trying to discover a better way or two of taking control.
8. Quiet
Masses of broken televisions and other appliances create a cavern. Rainbows of oily water pooled inside upturned ovens. I walked bare through this, comforted by the silence.
...
As I tread further into the vaulted cavern the televisions, no matter what their state, would flicker on and off, showing short segments of some interview. I could not see the interviewee clearly, but from his manner of fashion I would suggest a politician. I could not hear the interview either, nor did I want to. The televisions flashed eerie green over the surroundings. If anything else happened I do not recall it.
...
My dream became short bursts then. A day at a carnival with my aunt. Watching the tide come in. Watching myself sleep. A return to the previous night's fortress, completely deserted.
...
...
...
I woke again with only the ability to move my eyes. But only for a thirty two seconds (I could see my wall clock). I could hear waves in my inner ear, as if I had put conch shells to them. I thought I could see a group of odd, hunchbacked or elseways malformed people at the end of my bed, facing away from me. A minor hallucination which I have read does happen during sleep paralysis.
After this I was fine, better than fine in fact, as this was the most pleasant of sleep I have had in a long while.
I apologise for not treating you to my usual lengthy prose, but I am in a rush, for you see I simply must go to the forest today. Too long have I been indoors, I need fresh, billowing morning air.
...
As I tread further into the vaulted cavern the televisions, no matter what their state, would flicker on and off, showing short segments of some interview. I could not see the interviewee clearly, but from his manner of fashion I would suggest a politician. I could not hear the interview either, nor did I want to. The televisions flashed eerie green over the surroundings. If anything else happened I do not recall it.
...
My dream became short bursts then. A day at a carnival with my aunt. Watching the tide come in. Watching myself sleep. A return to the previous night's fortress, completely deserted.
...
...
...
I woke again with only the ability to move my eyes. But only for a thirty two seconds (I could see my wall clock). I could hear waves in my inner ear, as if I had put conch shells to them. I thought I could see a group of odd, hunchbacked or elseways malformed people at the end of my bed, facing away from me. A minor hallucination which I have read does happen during sleep paralysis.
After this I was fine, better than fine in fact, as this was the most pleasant of sleep I have had in a long while.
I apologise for not treating you to my usual lengthy prose, but I am in a rush, for you see I simply must go to the forest today. Too long have I been indoors, I need fresh, billowing morning air.
⚃
Saturday, 4 December 2010
7. Geometric
Torches light the street ahead. Dilapidated hovels lean against each other for support (Tudor, with hand built attics, balconies and other extensions). I pause for thought, planting myself on a large, flat stone, the kind used by passing riders for ease of reigning. A roof tile flies past my forehead. It was thrown by no one, the streets are empty.
My heart lurches. My tongue sticks drily to the top of my mouth. I come to realise the world in which I now inhabit is vertical; this act of knowing knocks me off the rock and pulls me as if by ghostly horses. Shirt ripped from my back, skin followed. It took several attempts but I scrambled to my feet, with a sense of accomplishment I marched towards a destination unknown. I leant back as I marched, with each measured step I hovered up and ever so slightly backwards, as if I were on a windy moon.
...
The rest of this dream moved too quickly to record as fully as I might. I had taken and wore a tattered, hooded cloak. I took shelter in a palace or fortress. The floor was checkered. I stumbled into a costume party. Rooms in one solid colour each. People looked down on me. A gold skinned child dressed as Ramesses sat cross legged. I am only just entering the party. A lord stood on a table shouting at the party goers as they flee'd the scene. A dame, fanning her face, stepped backwards into a square hole. Grey women wearing huge mechanical braces played harps. I pushed open a colossal oak door and entered the fortress.
This continued until I woke up.
...
...
...
It was a car alarm which roused me from my fitful sleep. I could not move for two minutes. I was pinned, as if I had been buried in sand. After this I was fine.
Apparently sleep paralysis is an evolved mammalian trait to stop ourselves from acting out dreams, which by and large a good thing, lest one wake while the process is still active. I can't seem to win regarding rest as of late, perhaps it was better than sleep walking. Odd though, that I should suffer from both. I have reason to believe it will not happen again.
My heart lurches. My tongue sticks drily to the top of my mouth. I come to realise the world in which I now inhabit is vertical; this act of knowing knocks me off the rock and pulls me as if by ghostly horses. Shirt ripped from my back, skin followed. It took several attempts but I scrambled to my feet, with a sense of accomplishment I marched towards a destination unknown. I leant back as I marched, with each measured step I hovered up and ever so slightly backwards, as if I were on a windy moon.
...
The rest of this dream moved too quickly to record as fully as I might. I had taken and wore a tattered, hooded cloak. I took shelter in a palace or fortress. The floor was checkered. I stumbled into a costume party. Rooms in one solid colour each. People looked down on me. A gold skinned child dressed as Ramesses sat cross legged. I am only just entering the party. A lord stood on a table shouting at the party goers as they flee'd the scene. A dame, fanning her face, stepped backwards into a square hole. Grey women wearing huge mechanical braces played harps. I pushed open a colossal oak door and entered the fortress.
This continued until I woke up.
...
...
...
It was a car alarm which roused me from my fitful sleep. I could not move for two minutes. I was pinned, as if I had been buried in sand. After this I was fine.
Apparently sleep paralysis is an evolved mammalian trait to stop ourselves from acting out dreams, which by and large a good thing, lest one wake while the process is still active. I can't seem to win regarding rest as of late, perhaps it was better than sleep walking. Odd though, that I should suffer from both. I have reason to believe it will not happen again.
⚃
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