ha! all finished! well actually, i was done with classes yesterday but friends, booze, and some green leafy stuff from boston kinda made it hard to think. . . 
haha
anyhow, i just had a crazy wierd dream and thought i would share it since nothing else that interesting is going on. when the dream started i was exploring a house that had been burnt up pretty bad, because i was a cop you see. in the house a little boy had died in the fire, and because of the families reputation in the town, many outside of the town had it in their heads that his death it was a message being sent to clear out. very sad stuff walking around in that house, and let me tell you my friends, your humble narrator almost broke down several times.
scrawled upon the walls in the living room in ash was the message "warrior/children always pay" which made no sense, but i felt it was addressing me. when i reached the upstairs stranger things began to happen. in the corners of my vision, the corners, halls, and nooks of the house would glow an erie sort of green. being the upstanding "joe smoe" cop that i was, your humble narrator refused to be put off by these obvious pranks.
upon entering what was the young boys room, pressure started building in my head. the green light, which now had taken on the appearance of smoke billowing from the walls, had returned. . .
once your humble narrator could steady himself once more, he found himself in a room that was not touched by fire most fierce. standing within the room however was samuel l. jackson. he explained that he was a ghost of sorts my friends, and that he had claimed the child for his own as part of a bargain that had come before. the deal he explained was older than the town and before settlers came to this place. it was his land you see, and just because the tenants had changed, that did not mean that the rent had not. SLJ left it to your humble narrator to decide upon his own course of action, being no sort of threat to the spirit itself. if the story he now told left this room however, it would be my own family that was visited in the next year. and perhaps every year after until there were none left.
the moral of the story my friends: there are things older than i-pods, guns, and even people in the world, they have simply gotten very good at hiding.
a little tribute to a clockwork orange up there. i don't know why i included that, but it felt approporiate.
playing on my computer while writing this:
Not Just Boys Fun - 7 Seconds
Anit-Flag - Mumia's Song
Public Witness Program - Fugazi
Victim of Reality - Pennywise
Curse of a Fallen Soul - Dropkick Murphys
What are you listening to?
haha
anyhow, i just had a crazy wierd dream and thought i would share it since nothing else that interesting is going on. when the dream started i was exploring a house that had been burnt up pretty bad, because i was a cop you see. in the house a little boy had died in the fire, and because of the families reputation in the town, many outside of the town had it in their heads that his death it was a message being sent to clear out. very sad stuff walking around in that house, and let me tell you my friends, your humble narrator almost broke down several times.
scrawled upon the walls in the living room in ash was the message "warrior/children always pay" which made no sense, but i felt it was addressing me. when i reached the upstairs stranger things began to happen. in the corners of my vision, the corners, halls, and nooks of the house would glow an erie sort of green. being the upstanding "joe smoe" cop that i was, your humble narrator refused to be put off by these obvious pranks.
upon entering what was the young boys room, pressure started building in my head. the green light, which now had taken on the appearance of smoke billowing from the walls, had returned. . .
once your humble narrator could steady himself once more, he found himself in a room that was not touched by fire most fierce. standing within the room however was samuel l. jackson. he explained that he was a ghost of sorts my friends, and that he had claimed the child for his own as part of a bargain that had come before. the deal he explained was older than the town and before settlers came to this place. it was his land you see, and just because the tenants had changed, that did not mean that the rent had not. SLJ left it to your humble narrator to decide upon his own course of action, being no sort of threat to the spirit itself. if the story he now told left this room however, it would be my own family that was visited in the next year. and perhaps every year after until there were none left.
the moral of the story my friends: there are things older than i-pods, guns, and even people in the world, they have simply gotten very good at hiding.
a little tribute to a clockwork orange up there. i don't know why i included that, but it felt approporiate.
playing on my computer while writing this:
Not Just Boys Fun - 7 Seconds
Anit-Flag - Mumia's Song
Public Witness Program - Fugazi
Victim of Reality - Pennywise
Curse of a Fallen Soul - Dropkick Murphys
What are you listening to?
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
me, occassionally remember some dreams, some are strange, some in color, no moral ones....
last night's dream was a severe nightmare. color, romeo&juliet themed, & every horrible description i never thought was in my head.
luckily it over now.
HAPPY DREAMS now