Ah, now I dreamt I was in vietnam and in weird mines. A tunnel rat maybe, I hardly saw the daylight I remember. Scared shitless. Constant fighting. I remember walking down miles of tunnels and the further I went the younger the soldiers were, until I saw little kids being taught propaganda. “Kill the Gooks!” the teachers told the children, and they started stabbing little asian dolls. I remember being disgusted, and me and a group of men had plotted a way to go AWOL and leave the army. We had this weird battle cry we used as a code word, but I can’t remember the words to it. I remember chanting it as I returned into the tunnel, looking like I was raising morale after a battle, but every so often a person would get up from digging or training or whatever they were doing at the time and just follow me through twists and turns of claustraphobic dirt tunnels.
I’m starting to think writing dreams may be a bad idea. Remembering too clearly may be a bad idea.

The next dream. Humanity had become aware of the impending arrival of a new large celestial entity, a planet or meteory headed towards our vicinity. I was with someone who was very knowledgeable about astronomy. He had books and binders and notes filled with different bodies of mass near the earth and their trajectory and claimed he knew for quite some time this was coming. I remember it was the gravity of this object that was so powerful that the moon hung low in our sky, in our atmosphere but still floating there. It must have been only a fraction of it, because we rode in a single propellor steam-punk looking plane around it. The sky was a melting pot of bronze and black, with burning hot white holes poked everywhere, like the atmosphere was being torn away and the star-filled sky was much more visible. I remember preparing to leave with family and the transition into another dream.

There was this little kingdom that wanted to kill these swamp people. It was a surreal blend between reality and mythology. There was this witch, she walked from a castle across the swamp and on a giant lilipad there was this little token. A weird bird-man, appeared and started asking her questions like “How did you know I was here?” “Why do you want my power?” “What do you plant to accomplish and how do you think you can defeat me?” and she simply replied: “If I am powerful enough to know the answers to all of your questions, I need not answer them.” He flew away and I remember being inside the witch’s head, she could hear his thoughts as he mumbled to himself about how she could still use each of her natural senses to locate him. A visual diagram appeared in her mind for sound, smell, sight, electromagnetic energy, thermal. And in each of them it looked like a pool of water that spiked whereever he went, like a minimap to a video game. He died, suddenly, as if erased from the dream. She inherited his power by taking the token. I was her pupil, along with some girl. A knight from the kingdom, a knight who was highly revered and close to the ruler of the kingdom, appeared after much noise of conflict. Apparently he had gone mad and simply murdered everybody including the king on his warpath to the witch, where he simply knelt and buried a body of someone he loved. He had fallen under her sway and just knelt there next to his deceased kin. I remember my fellow pupil had a deformity or wound on her leg that she was not happy with, and the witch told her to lay down in the grass and she just massaged the skin and each time it became tight then loose, it healed and healed. But she couldn’t complete the process because she was old, but it was enough show of power for us both to be incredibly amazed with her abilities. I’m sure it’s safe to assume she was an evil power hungry person and we were being groomed to inherit her power, but I don’t remember anything further.

I don’t think I’ve ever questioned my own sanity with such scrutiny before this moment, because I honestly do believe that was an external influence, but to any rational mind you’d have to dismiss it as a dream or a reminscent effect of drugs or chemicals. Am I developing schizophrenia or some other more serious mental disorder as time progresses? I don’t know, I’m shaken to the bone, but I do feel much more alive now than I have in a while and I am content with living if only to experience something like that again. To be touched by something so much greater, a single message burned into the back of my mind…. I am losing my mind, I must be…

Last night I was about to kill myself because of depression and then this. I think I am going crazy, because there’s not a whole lot that can convince me this wasn’t some sort of alien or message from God. (For the record, I’m an epistemological and metaphysical nihilist, so there is not a whole lot I infact DO believe in, you can’t really find someone who lacks more faith in any religion than someone like me. Someone who passionately refutes and argues against most religion as a hobby.)

I had a very intense dream, that ended with a certain set of dialogue where I screamed at someone I knew in real life they will never be a man if they ever lay a hand on a woman, at which point I realized it was a dream and I heard these voices, or these distinct thoughts along the lines of
“Oh shit we hadn’t anticipated him to wake up before he realized the message was this dialogue itself.”
And upon hearing that very OUTSIDE presence or voice, I felt this strange seizure like sedation like a low humming or eery vibration or low frequency noise where you could feel the bass flow, temporarily fell back into the dream and saw the dialogue for it zoomed out, the letters were like a captcha test to prove you’re human, or a color blind test where the shapes suddenly reveal themselves within the context of their surroundingss and it said scrolling downwards in very weird angles of lettering almost exotic or alien:

“Death from above you deserve not”
“Death from above, you deserve not”
I don’t know if there was a comma or not,
like I don’t know if they were telling me I don’t deserve to die yet
or that I (or we) were going to die from something above and it’s not my (our) fault.
Was it speaking riddlish, like yoda, telling me to keep living? Or was it a message that the world, or at least my world, was about to be put to an end from somewhere above?

In my dreams I always feel relatively weak in ways that do not concern my mind. Like if I were to throw a punch at someone, it would be like a little kid hitting an adult; they would not even flinch or be phased by the force of my impact. When I use my mind, I can formulate and trick or deceive people very easily, or at least that’s how I feel within my dreams. People are like sheep, and while I may be a shepherd, I feel weak if the sheep were to fight back.

I cannot express enough how this is only relative to my dreams, because I fear people may take the next parts out of proportion. I have a memory of a dream from last night, that I instinctively tried to supress, but watching someone become maimed while awake, it triggered the memory to reawaken itself. The power I felt, not only in my mind, but in terms of strength, as I pushed a blade through someones jugular. The feeling of overcoming an obstacle, the invincibility and rush.

I know that in real life, I am a pretty big person compared to a lot of people around me and I know that means I’m also pretty powerful if I were to fight. In fights, I’ve always been way to afraid to actually hurt someone, because in actual fights I always have managed to hurt them without trying. Now I realize how potentially powerful I am as a human being and I’m afraid that I was not meant to remember this dream in which I took another human being’s life.

I will not linger on the thought, because it’s haunting and I am filled with a sense of self loathing, but I must write it down. If I remembered it once, I will remember it forever. I remember wrestling with someone who had the intent to kill me. We were once friends because this person was familiar to me, that kind of vibe, though I cannot possibly recollect who it may have been. I remember getting tired of pretending to be weak, pretending to be less than what I am. I remember pulling the blade out and just forcing it into his chest a few times. As I did this, it did not satisfy me, because it did not feel as though I were mortally wounding this person. It felt like I was merely slapping him, rather than actually hitting back.
So I aimed it north, slid it in beneath his chin, through his throat, into the back of his mouth. I remember distinctly the way it felt to go through layers of flesh and tissue and the sound it made as he gurgled on his own spit and blood. I am filled with the arrogance of my youth again, a sense of self-confidence I often misplace.

Dreams are to be utilized, like simulations, for events to come. Is it a self-fulfilling prophecy? Am I bound by fate to murder someone? Only time will tell, because I can say honestly I would never hesitate to defend myself, but I would never find it easy to willingly hurt another person out of anything other than sadomasochistic-sexual pleasaure, in which it’s obviously consentual and it’s not actually harmful.

I realize now how powerful dreams can be, which is why I feel that the act of making this a memory may have been a mistake, but I will own what and who I am for eternity if nothing else.

I had a dream that the world was ending, there were strange creatures everywhere. I saw New York City being built. I dived from a helicopter onto a burning church. I scavenged for hours through grocery stores with other refugees, sifting through junk and stale food. I was in the world trade center before it came crashing down.
I was in the book store for hours looking out the window and reading and smiling with her. I remember teasing her on how a certain building was made, blatantly lying and her laughing and us kissing. I saw her face for the first time in years. Why did she have to be here?
I saw the sky fill with ash and fire. The military prowling the streets, shooting almost everybody. I remember running down a hall way towards a firing line and just before they opened fire I tore open a steel door that swung inwards, hiding behind it hearing the gunshots and the bullets hitting the metal barrier like a baseball bat being taken to a car door over and over.

It kept switching between a post apocalyptic future and a much more pleasant past, like I was having flashbacks, day dreams, amidst the chaos. Reliving each memory, so vividly that I was dreaming within the dream and didn’t realize I was reminiscing until some act of violence snapped my attention back to the death and destruction erupting around me.