How do you know that your perceptions of life are real? How do you know that this life is 'real' and not a dream created by something or someone else?
It's easy to get lost in your own little world, a microcosm of sorts, but then you suddenly realise that the people around you, near or far, have a life that is as vivid and as complex as your own. Yet it's easy to consume yourself wondering about how others perceive life. Do they see life the same as you? How valid is one's life?
Many a time, the thought has been based around the notion of being the only person alive, and each day is simply but a scenario projected by your subconcious. Perhaps there maybe a reason for the subtle yet persistent feeling of being out of place - the feeling of not fitting in with the world around you. It's such a strange feeling to be aware of. Imagine that every day when your brain is close to switching off, it gives you one last question to ponder - why are you here? Why can you only feel your motion of time? It makes you want to know more about your life beforehand - if there ever was one of course. What makes the realisation of your life more important than anyone else?
It's amazing in the sense that these questions can never be fully answered, that we are simply just dreaming and when your dream ends, so does your life. This one thought creates more questions than it was intended to, so this post will finish on one final thought:
Is that all there is - a notion of your own existance that can never be fulfilled with a blankness to follow?
Otherwordly
Showing posts with label Dreams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dreams. Show all posts
Thursday, 12 November 2015
Wednesday, 4 November 2015
The Killer Dream
The last post I had written was also on the topic of dreams, but this one takes a different direction altogether.
Dreams. What are they? Are dreams our subconscious unloading the day's events in a weird visual representation? Are they a mixture of memories and wishes combined into a nonsensical way to help pass time while you sleep? No-one really knows the truth about dreams, only you. It is only you that lives to recall the dream as they are but a product of your imagination. Yet if that statement is true as such, then why do you have nightmares? Why would you wish to wake up with a sense of fear? Can you not control what images you view each night? Dreams are indeed peculiar.
Instead of feeling refreshed from a good night's sleep, you spend your waking moments trying to decode the happenings of your sleep. Though the question begs to be asked; what happens when your dreams are simply but a result from stress? Stress can do strange things to your body and it can dangerously affect your mental state. Sleep finds it hard to escape from. Instead, it unleashes a hellish variety of sleep disorders ranging from insomnia to sleep apnoea, RLS to narcolepsy. It is mixed into these disorders a strange act can be found - sleep paralysis. Have you ever woken suddenly, filled with dread and fear? Have you noticed something or someone in your room but you can't move from your spot in bed? Have you tried to scream? Did you notice that trying to blink proved futile. Quite literally you are paralysed. Science suggests that your brain has 'woken up' before REM (rapid eye movement - the time in which you dream) has finished and that the signal to your body to release itself from the 'switched off' mode has been delayed. Due to this delay, you can experience hallucinations, fear and even the feeling of death. Yet a simple solution to unparalyse yourself its to convince your body its still dreaming and within a few seconds, body movement can be restored. It is said that each person will experience this at least once in their lifetime. But what happens when your dream is a lot more sinister than waking up before REM?
Imagine the feeling of someone that is trying to kill you in your sleep. You will simply 'wake up' and everything would be fine. But what if that doesn't happen? As much as you try to jerk yourself awake, the dream deepens. A ghostly figure, or even a face you recognise, seems to take pleasure in your struggle. They wrap their hands around your neck, apply a force to your chest that restricts your breathing. You can feel your ribs aching under the pressure. You know it's a dream but everything you have been taught to do, doesn't work. You try to move more, screaming till you are at the point of tears, but no sound comes out. It's too late to calm down now and work out a logical way to escape the nightmare. You have passed the point of no return. What feels like hours, is simply minutes or even seconds, you finally break free from the gripping hold. However, the terror does not end there. You finally awaken to soaked bed sheets from your on sweat and tears. Your hands are still grasped tightly into your duvet. You are still paralysed with fear. Every noise in your room triggers more panic. You are afraid to stay awake, yet you dare not to close your eyes in case the evilness returns. You know it will. It always does. Instead you lay perfectly still, as though you were dead, waiting for the dread to pass. You wait until the moment you feel safe to sleep again, though that wait may take up to an hour or two. Finally, you take the risk and fall into a restless sleep. The memory of that dream never fades. You will remember that dream ten years from now. On thing for sure, your next attack won't come as a shock. It's still an horrible experience though, but your body knows how to respond.
If you're like me, then you do expect more to come. It becomes a natural event, a simple reoccurring dream, like the rest. What you don't expect though, is to have two episodes in one night. You manage to break from from one but are then pulled straight into the next. Reality becomes distorted. You become afraid that you will never free the cycle. Your chest feels like it's being crushed. You can feel your tears run down your cheeks, yet its impossible to wipe them away. You are being held captive by your own body and mind. You wonder if you are going to survive the night. Reality slips away even further when another figure joins in on your torture. Just when you feel like giving up, a last final jolt brings you back to life. Did you just die? It sure felt like it. There would be no point in sleeping now as another dream would surely kill you. That's a definite.
This is all but a vicious cycle; being frightened of sleeping, the tired you become, which then produces these terrors. The lack of sleep and the stress of life may prove too much.
Dreams. What are they? Are dreams our subconscious unloading the day's events in a weird visual representation? Are they a mixture of memories and wishes combined into a nonsensical way to help pass time while you sleep? No-one really knows the truth about dreams, only you. It is only you that lives to recall the dream as they are but a product of your imagination. Yet if that statement is true as such, then why do you have nightmares? Why would you wish to wake up with a sense of fear? Can you not control what images you view each night? Dreams are indeed peculiar.
Instead of feeling refreshed from a good night's sleep, you spend your waking moments trying to decode the happenings of your sleep. Though the question begs to be asked; what happens when your dreams are simply but a result from stress? Stress can do strange things to your body and it can dangerously affect your mental state. Sleep finds it hard to escape from. Instead, it unleashes a hellish variety of sleep disorders ranging from insomnia to sleep apnoea, RLS to narcolepsy. It is mixed into these disorders a strange act can be found - sleep paralysis. Have you ever woken suddenly, filled with dread and fear? Have you noticed something or someone in your room but you can't move from your spot in bed? Have you tried to scream? Did you notice that trying to blink proved futile. Quite literally you are paralysed. Science suggests that your brain has 'woken up' before REM (rapid eye movement - the time in which you dream) has finished and that the signal to your body to release itself from the 'switched off' mode has been delayed. Due to this delay, you can experience hallucinations, fear and even the feeling of death. Yet a simple solution to unparalyse yourself its to convince your body its still dreaming and within a few seconds, body movement can be restored. It is said that each person will experience this at least once in their lifetime. But what happens when your dream is a lot more sinister than waking up before REM?
Imagine the feeling of someone that is trying to kill you in your sleep. You will simply 'wake up' and everything would be fine. But what if that doesn't happen? As much as you try to jerk yourself awake, the dream deepens. A ghostly figure, or even a face you recognise, seems to take pleasure in your struggle. They wrap their hands around your neck, apply a force to your chest that restricts your breathing. You can feel your ribs aching under the pressure. You know it's a dream but everything you have been taught to do, doesn't work. You try to move more, screaming till you are at the point of tears, but no sound comes out. It's too late to calm down now and work out a logical way to escape the nightmare. You have passed the point of no return. What feels like hours, is simply minutes or even seconds, you finally break free from the gripping hold. However, the terror does not end there. You finally awaken to soaked bed sheets from your on sweat and tears. Your hands are still grasped tightly into your duvet. You are still paralysed with fear. Every noise in your room triggers more panic. You are afraid to stay awake, yet you dare not to close your eyes in case the evilness returns. You know it will. It always does. Instead you lay perfectly still, as though you were dead, waiting for the dread to pass. You wait until the moment you feel safe to sleep again, though that wait may take up to an hour or two. Finally, you take the risk and fall into a restless sleep. The memory of that dream never fades. You will remember that dream ten years from now. On thing for sure, your next attack won't come as a shock. It's still an horrible experience though, but your body knows how to respond.
If you're like me, then you do expect more to come. It becomes a natural event, a simple reoccurring dream, like the rest. What you don't expect though, is to have two episodes in one night. You manage to break from from one but are then pulled straight into the next. Reality becomes distorted. You become afraid that you will never free the cycle. Your chest feels like it's being crushed. You can feel your tears run down your cheeks, yet its impossible to wipe them away. You are being held captive by your own body and mind. You wonder if you are going to survive the night. Reality slips away even further when another figure joins in on your torture. Just when you feel like giving up, a last final jolt brings you back to life. Did you just die? It sure felt like it. There would be no point in sleeping now as another dream would surely kill you. That's a definite.
This is all but a vicious cycle; being frightened of sleeping, the tired you become, which then produces these terrors. The lack of sleep and the stress of life may prove too much.
Thursday, 6 August 2015
What's In a Dream?
"Not all dreaming is the same. Dreaming runs the gamut of human
experience (and sometimes beyond), incorporating a dizzying range of
emotions and events, often with elements of the bizarre."
-Michael J. Breus, PhD
Understanding a dream is difficult - was it a dream, or was it your mind telling you to be aware of something? Was it an accumulation of the day (or week's) events built up in and released at that particular moment in time? Dreams often don't tell of anything, just the release of those pent up emotions.
The reason for this post is, one dream has been particularly upsetting. I do not feel the need to describe my actual dream, but perhaps find out why I am dreaming of it. For two weeks, give or take a few days, I dream of a particular event that always ends up with a bad outcome. I'm left alone, everyone else with their loves, their friends, their family. Now normally that wouldn't bother me as I am naturally a person who prefers the solitude, her own company, however this dream felt too real, almost like I was no longer part of the Earth. It was so real, I almost thought it was to be true; that I would soon departing my life.
It wasn't until I decided to distance myself from the people I talk to the most, that I realised what the dream meant to me. It wasn't that I was coming to the end of my time, it was more of the opposite - closing the door on my old life. Looking at the people around me, I could see that they were a mixture of old friends and new friends, past and maybe future loved, my fears and hopes all balled into a reoccurring dream. It was a dream to help me decide what I wanted in my future, almost a warning. Did I really want to sabotage my own happiness? Did I want to stress over events that were most unlikely to happen? If I continued down the path I was currently on I would.
So what if I'm scared of failing at work? It wouldn't be the worst thing that would have happened. So what if the next flight I go on ends up being a disaster? I can't let the fear of the unknown stopping me from living my life. My dream was simply happening to tell me to let go, stop over-analyzing things. Let things fall where they may and cross that bridge when I get to it. Yes, life is full of cliches and mottoes to help you through your life, but only you can control what you want to get out of it .
Dreams are simply but that, dreams.
-Michael J. Breus, PhD
Understanding a dream is difficult - was it a dream, or was it your mind telling you to be aware of something? Was it an accumulation of the day (or week's) events built up in and released at that particular moment in time? Dreams often don't tell of anything, just the release of those pent up emotions.
The reason for this post is, one dream has been particularly upsetting. I do not feel the need to describe my actual dream, but perhaps find out why I am dreaming of it. For two weeks, give or take a few days, I dream of a particular event that always ends up with a bad outcome. I'm left alone, everyone else with their loves, their friends, their family. Now normally that wouldn't bother me as I am naturally a person who prefers the solitude, her own company, however this dream felt too real, almost like I was no longer part of the Earth. It was so real, I almost thought it was to be true; that I would soon departing my life.
It wasn't until I decided to distance myself from the people I talk to the most, that I realised what the dream meant to me. It wasn't that I was coming to the end of my time, it was more of the opposite - closing the door on my old life. Looking at the people around me, I could see that they were a mixture of old friends and new friends, past and maybe future loved, my fears and hopes all balled into a reoccurring dream. It was a dream to help me decide what I wanted in my future, almost a warning. Did I really want to sabotage my own happiness? Did I want to stress over events that were most unlikely to happen? If I continued down the path I was currently on I would.
So what if I'm scared of failing at work? It wouldn't be the worst thing that would have happened. So what if the next flight I go on ends up being a disaster? I can't let the fear of the unknown stopping me from living my life. My dream was simply happening to tell me to let go, stop over-analyzing things. Let things fall where they may and cross that bridge when I get to it. Yes, life is full of cliches and mottoes to help you through your life, but only you can control what you want to get out of it .
Dreams are simply but that, dreams.
Saturday, 15 November 2014
Life after Books
”
but there is this unwritten contract between author and reader and I think not ending your book kind of violates that contract.”
John Green, The Fault in Our Stars
I recently read a book by John Green Fault in Our Stars and it was definitely an interesting read. Now I am not going to write a review on this story because I have my opinion and that is mine only. However, it made some interesting points about characters and endings of stories, and it made me question my own thoughts.
When a story is placed upon paper, characters and situations are born. They may not be real in existence, but they are real on the page. They are given a background, a life, a history, upon which they evolve into deeper beings. Simply immortalized in words. They are brought to life through their personalities. We learn their likes, dislikes, their ability to bond with other characters. No being is created from thin air. Even those that maybe only mentioned once or twice, they still play a part. It is this creation that poses a problem. As a reader you form your own opinion of each character, you seem to bond with them, learn to love or hate them. Yet when the problem of the story has been solved and the book comes to a close, you face a problem. Does that story really end there? What happens afterwards? Is the light turned off for good? Are these characters thrown in to a disposal bin of endings?
It was this thought that puzzled me the most. Do we really need to know what happens after that last page has ended, after that last period? If a story ends in a happen ending, is it really necessary to think about them more? The answer is no. They are simply words on a page that have been written for our enjoyment only. They are not biographies of life. They are not real people. It is not realistic to end all stories with a happy ending, the characters living a perfect life with everything resolved and dying peacefully in their sleep. That itself would pose more questions than answers.
So what if a story ends in the middle, not completing the story. Take Hazel for example, the reader learns everything, if not more, that we need to know as if she was a real being beside us. Yet as the story progresses, so does our attachment to the character. This is our downfall. When the story dramatically ends, with no explanation, we are left with disappointment. What happened next? Did she live happily? Was she cured? The only person who knows is the character herself. Even her creator doesn't know. It is in this ending that we are able to write our own endings. Each one unique as the person next to us. Yes we may still be left with that question , what happened, burning our curiosity bit by bit, but stories life this imitate life perfectly. Just as 'stories end in the middle of a sentence' with no reason, our life can end at any second, without reason and those around will be left asking questions.
It is simply our nature to question everything and not to take it at face value. It is what it is. This is why I think John Green has hit the proverbial nail on the head. I would leave this post in the middle of a sentence, but I do not have the will power to do so.
So I will leave it with this conclusion. Forming your own answers in your mind is more appropriate than reading a solid ending in a story. You can create your own world for these characters, and no one will question it.
John Green, The Fault in Our Stars
I recently read a book by John Green Fault in Our Stars and it was definitely an interesting read. Now I am not going to write a review on this story because I have my opinion and that is mine only. However, it made some interesting points about characters and endings of stories, and it made me question my own thoughts.
When a story is placed upon paper, characters and situations are born. They may not be real in existence, but they are real on the page. They are given a background, a life, a history, upon which they evolve into deeper beings. Simply immortalized in words. They are brought to life through their personalities. We learn their likes, dislikes, their ability to bond with other characters. No being is created from thin air. Even those that maybe only mentioned once or twice, they still play a part. It is this creation that poses a problem. As a reader you form your own opinion of each character, you seem to bond with them, learn to love or hate them. Yet when the problem of the story has been solved and the book comes to a close, you face a problem. Does that story really end there? What happens afterwards? Is the light turned off for good? Are these characters thrown in to a disposal bin of endings?
It was this thought that puzzled me the most. Do we really need to know what happens after that last page has ended, after that last period? If a story ends in a happen ending, is it really necessary to think about them more? The answer is no. They are simply words on a page that have been written for our enjoyment only. They are not biographies of life. They are not real people. It is not realistic to end all stories with a happy ending, the characters living a perfect life with everything resolved and dying peacefully in their sleep. That itself would pose more questions than answers.
So what if a story ends in the middle, not completing the story. Take Hazel for example, the reader learns everything, if not more, that we need to know as if she was a real being beside us. Yet as the story progresses, so does our attachment to the character. This is our downfall. When the story dramatically ends, with no explanation, we are left with disappointment. What happened next? Did she live happily? Was she cured? The only person who knows is the character herself. Even her creator doesn't know. It is in this ending that we are able to write our own endings. Each one unique as the person next to us. Yes we may still be left with that question , what happened, burning our curiosity bit by bit, but stories life this imitate life perfectly. Just as 'stories end in the middle of a sentence' with no reason, our life can end at any second, without reason and those around will be left asking questions.
It is simply our nature to question everything and not to take it at face value. It is what it is. This is why I think John Green has hit the proverbial nail on the head. I would leave this post in the middle of a sentence, but I do not have the will power to do so.
So I will leave it with this conclusion. Forming your own answers in your mind is more appropriate than reading a solid ending in a story. You can create your own world for these characters, and no one will question it.
Sunday, 9 March 2014
Choking on a dream.
“I woke myself in the darkness, and I knew only that a dream had scared me so badly that I had to wake up or die, and yet, try as I might, I could not remember what I had dreamed. The dream was haunting me: standing behind me, present and yet invisible, like the back of my head, simultaneously there and not there.”
Neil Gaman - Ocean at the End of the Lane
Dreams. Some you tend to forget. Sometimes you get the occasional one that will stay with you for a lifetime; often enough that same dream can reoccur. Maybe one of those dreams is a dramatic chase or a tragic love story. Maybe you can see everyone crystal clear or they could all be a blur. Whatever the dream, whoever is involved - it remains a memory that you can never be free of.
In a twisted sense of humour, my dreams have been exceedingly weird. Ever since I could remember, I have always had this "choking" dream.
I would wake up from a dream in my bed to find someone who I had never come across consciously sitting on my chest and wrapping their hands around my throat. The person, sometimes invisible, would crush my chest with it's weight, a force so powerful I would be unable to breathe. I would fight as much as I could with this person or thing but I felt so weak.
Yet as strange as it seemed, I knew it was a dream. It felt so real in the sense that no matter how hard I would shake my body or try to free myself from this pressure,I could never wake up. I could toss and turn will all my strength but nothing would work. It was like my body had to wake up on it's own. When I would finally wake up, the dream was never over. Tears would be streaming down my face and my body would be sweaty and tangled amongst the bedsheets.My chest would feel constricted and it would be hard to breathe. My heart would race so fast that it would almost explode.
This dream has happened several times during my 22 years, but recently it has occurred at least 3 times in the past six months. The dream is always the same; lying in bed on my back with the window open. However the bed would coincidently match the one I fell asleep in on that particular night.
I'm not sure what is exactly going on but I never wish to experience this again.
Tuesday, 10 December 2013
University Stories Part 2: Where My Demons Hide
N.B: The following story have been edited (though incomplete) though your comments on improving the stories are recommended.
Where My Demons Hide
Prologue
Mörk drew a knife from his jet black trousers and quietly picked the lock of the door. His master's task may seem cruel and unjustified to the mortals, but to Mörk and those of his world it was simply second nature - kill or be killed. He knew he was a cold-blooded creature that didn't care for any human being in the world; his father had made sure of that. Mörk childhood had held no happy memories, for it was marked only by abuse he had been subjected to by his father; cold, familiar words blaring fresh in his consciousness as his jacket rubbed against old lash wounds. "You should never feel fear. You should be the creator of fear. You are a being of power." There was no longer any blood running through his body, just pure venom.
His kind, the majestic Giant race, lived undetected and safe in the mountains of Fjällhästen. He wouldn't exactly call it home though, no, home suggested a place of warmth and loving - he had experienced neither. The humans had no idea what was happening right under their noses. Cold-blooded gen-one immortals, those whom have suffered abuse from their parents from a young age during their training to show and feel no emotion were at war with a human-immortal hybrid. No matter how discreet the war is in the mortal world, the humans always ended up in the cross-fire. None of these creatures could let the greater world find out what was happening.
His kind, the majestic Giant race, lived undetected and safe in the mountains of Fjällhästen. He wouldn't exactly call it home though, no, home suggested a place of warmth and loving - he had experienced neither. The humans had no idea what was happening right under their noses. Cold-blooded gen-one immortals, those whom have suffered abuse from their parents from a young age during their training to show and feel no emotion were at war with a human-immortal hybrid. No matter how discreet the war is in the mortal world, the humans always ended up in the cross-fire. None of these creatures could let the greater world find out what was happening.
**********************************
"Dammit" A quiet voice went unquestioned in the ridiculously small lounge. Astrid's eyes glared at the ancient television displaying an unsuccessful repeat of a show that should not have been aired once never mind again. Below the television sat a dilapidated coffee table which most definitely could not remember its better days. No matter how much she wished for a better life than one she was living, her career prospects were not exactly reachable.It was for her little angel Darcy that Astrid struggled onwards, making the best of her poor situation. Miss Darcy-Elizabeth was her life and the only happiness Astrid could allow herself, for all the money she earned at a local bar went on little Darcy's happiness. Her little girl wasn't spoilt; Mattie just wanted to provide her with a normal and healthy childhood since hers wasn't particularly special. Her parents tried to provide what they could, given the circumstances of her working class background, and she could tell they were struggling financially but the love and attention was all she ever needed. If only they were here she thought. She could use her parents right now. Fresh tears started to fall from her eyes. Quickly she wiped them away before she started the whole expression of grief again.
She tried a new direction of thought, something to distract her from the pain. But she had nothing. Not even the simple action of letting her imagination run wild just like the books she would read. That pleasure always ended up with heartbreak, with romance and Prince Charming being her clichéd thoughts. How she ended up being a 23 year old single mother with a 2 year old daughter, was beyond her. Not that she regretted the events which led to this situation. The part that annoyed her was the fact that her childhood sweetheart had found a new love interest in her close friend. Her love life now was more drastic. She never felt like she needed to be with anyone else. She never wanted someone else to disappear from Darcy's life. Her insecurities of not being beautiful enough for love always had her thinking of herself being a plain-Jane girl.
Her eyes had just closed when they quickly re-opened as she realised that Darcy hadn't woken up to see where she was at. Her daughter was like that, acting like a mother towards her, the roles being reversed. She always knew when Astrid was upset or just needed comforting. She slowly moved herself off the couch and headed towards the bedroom of her small and dingy flat. Opening the creaky door, that needed to be sorted out, she looked into the room and found her daughter fast asleep clutching her little Care-bear with small hands. She quietly crept into the room and crawled into the bed and held her protectively against her chest. What she would do to give this sleeping beauty a stable life. Her eyes started to feel heavy and began to close, but she never felt safe enough to get a well needed sleep. The room itself was full of damp, and had the temperature of a snowy day. Still her body protested until she finally gave in. Just this once though.
Startled by a noise, Astrid's eyes flew open. Her body froze. Was it her imagination? Or had the water pipes burst again? A little shaken, she rolled out of bed and crept towards the door.
**********************************
The front door opened with a slight creak. He came to a halt, and listened for any
disturbance that he had created. Nothing. Moving forward with silent
footsteps, he scoured the room for any sign of human life. He quickly headed towards the door
besides the kitchen, and in his haste he knocked off a glass that hadn't
been placed correctly on the worn wooden side table. No amount of power he possessed would have hidden that noise. "Djävlar!" Yes, he knew she was behind that door and it had disturbed her, but it
wouldn't help by attracting attention to himself just yet.
He heard small and soft footsteps moving across the room behind the door he was currently heading towards, when all of a sudden they stopped. The handle started to move downwards and the door opened slowly. Mörk put his hand into his pocket attached to his jacket, retrieving a cloth doused in chloroform; fortunately for Astrid , the amount used was not enough to kill, merely to subdue.
As the door opened, the human revealed herself. With no time to waste he brought the cloth to her face and smothered her mouth and nose. She kicked and squirmed trying to escape. Such a
Dumskalle! he thought. Such a stupid little human. A few moments later she fell limp into his arms. As he flung her over his shoulder his gaze fell upon another human lying soundlessly asleep, unaware of the commotion surrounding her. "Great, what am I to do now?" he said to himself; no point in being quiet since he had his main target. The only thing he could do was dump the unconscious body into the back of the van.
Still he felt no emotions for what he was about to do but he wished he did. Did he really have to act so callously towards the female? Yes.
Mörk moved swiftly back to the house and picked up the other human, which he noticed was a little baby girl who seemed to sleep like the dead. Heading back to the van once more, he opened the door in a quick movement then stopped, frozen. An unknown feeling came across him. He looked at the little one and re-thought his of acting so harsh. He carefully laid her across the seat and wove together a makeshift baby seat with his hands. Thin pieces of thread weaved in and out of one another until the process was complete. Magic. One way of using my power for something other than death. He fastened the human's daughter next to the driver's seat and climbed in. With a quiet hum of the engine turning, he drove off into the silent and deadly night. This had been the only time he had actually been close to feeling something like emotion. Love.
He heard small and soft footsteps moving across the room behind the door he was currently heading towards, when all of a sudden they stopped. The handle started to move downwards and the door opened slowly. Mörk put his hand into his pocket attached to his jacket, retrieving a cloth doused in chloroform; fortunately for Astrid , the amount used was not enough to kill, merely to subdue.
As the door opened, the human revealed herself. With no time to waste he brought the cloth to her face and smothered her mouth and nose. She kicked and squirmed trying to escape. Such a
Dumskalle! he thought. Such a stupid little human. A few moments later she fell limp into his arms. As he flung her over his shoulder his gaze fell upon another human lying soundlessly asleep, unaware of the commotion surrounding her. "Great, what am I to do now?" he said to himself; no point in being quiet since he had his main target. The only thing he could do was dump the unconscious body into the back of the van.
Still he felt no emotions for what he was about to do but he wished he did. Did he really have to act so callously towards the female? Yes.
Mörk moved swiftly back to the house and picked up the other human, which he noticed was a little baby girl who seemed to sleep like the dead. Heading back to the van once more, he opened the door in a quick movement then stopped, frozen. An unknown feeling came across him. He looked at the little one and re-thought his of acting so harsh. He carefully laid her across the seat and wove together a makeshift baby seat with his hands. Thin pieces of thread weaved in and out of one another until the process was complete. Magic. One way of using my power for something other than death. He fastened the human's daughter next to the driver's seat and climbed in. With a quiet hum of the engine turning, he drove off into the silent and deadly night. This had been the only time he had actually been close to feeling something like emotion. Love.
**********************************
**********************************
She had spotted him from across the bar. His eyes had distracted her;
something that had made her freeze. The icy blue bore into hers. She
silently questioned what colour her eyes were. Would they be hazel with
curiosity or green with lust? Whatever the colour, she knew it wouldn't
end well for one of them - one of them would be dead. Which outcome
would be the worst was something she wasn't sure off.
Astrid awoke with an oppressive headache. She hoped that what she had seen was a weird dream, something her mind had created which normally happened living in the place she did. Her eyes opened and it was completely dark with a little light coming through a gap in the wall, and instantly she knew something was up. She tried to open her mouth and realised she couldn't –something was stopping her. Her hands reached up to remove the offending object and noticed her hands were tied together with some sort of rough material. What the-moving her gaze to her feet, she found rope around her ankles. Ok no need to panic. Actually maybe I do. I can't scream I can't move. No this is all a dream I will close my eyes again and open them and then maybe I will be back at home in my God-damn uncomfortable bed. She thought. Then she realised, the vivid nightmare she had last night wasn't a nightmare, it was reality. And this - Where was Darcy? Her baby Darcy. She felt her eyes starting to close again. NO she mentally shouted. She had to stay awake. She had to find a way out and find Darcy. Only she couldn't. Her body slumped against the wall as she slipped under a fog of confusion again.
A sudden jerk woke her up once more. She looked around and again saw nothing. She didn't have much time to process where she was at as light poured into the darkness and pain shot through her eyes.
"Good you're up." A rough voice came from somewhere in front of her. "Now I'm going to take off this tape from around your mouth if you promise not to make noise. I can't deal with that silly response right now. Nod your head if you are going to scream"
She automatically nodded her head. She wanted someone to possibly notice her and the monster of a man. However it seemed that this guy was a violent type as she felt a sting in her cheek. Her eyes widened and tears began to flow.
"I'll ask you again, are you going to scream if I take this off you?" his voice sounded even rougher and scarier than the last time. She shook her head. As much as she wanted to scream, her body simply wouldn't allow it; she had no energy, no willpower to refuse.
"Well done" he said, this time patronising and evil. His hand went to rip the tape when he stopped "actually I think I will leave this on since you will probably scream when it tears your skin apart." What surprised her after he had spoken was the sound that came out after those seemingly kind words, was his laugh. It was beautiful but dark. It sent shivers down her spine and she daringly took a glance at her kidnapper.
A sudden jerk woke her up once more. She looked around and again saw nothing. She didn't have much time to process where she was at as light poured into the darkness and pain shot through her eyes.
"Good you're up." A rough voice came from somewhere in front of her. "Now I'm going to take off this tape from around your mouth if you promise not to make noise. I can't deal with that silly response right now. Nod your head if you are going to scream"
She automatically nodded her head. She wanted someone to possibly notice her and the monster of a man. However it seemed that this guy was a violent type as she felt a sting in her cheek. Her eyes widened and tears began to flow.
"I'll ask you again, are you going to scream if I take this off you?" his voice sounded even rougher and scarier than the last time. She shook her head. As much as she wanted to scream, her body simply wouldn't allow it; she had no energy, no willpower to refuse.
"Well done" he said, this time patronising and evil. His hand went to rip the tape when he stopped "actually I think I will leave this on since you will probably scream when it tears your skin apart." What surprised her after he had spoken was the sound that came out after those seemingly kind words, was his laugh. It was beautiful but dark. It sent shivers down her spine and she daringly took a glance at her kidnapper.
**********************************
Take that as a no then! Astrid thought. Her poor angel would be scared and alone. How she wished she could comfort her. At least she could speak aloud although, that would be the only positive thing to come out of this mess. She looked around in the dark room, with the only light visible from a small oil lamp barely lighting anything. In the far corner she could make out a worn out mattress no doubt crawling with bugs and other flesh eating things. Urgh. If it was the only chance she would have at comfort it would have to do. Though the obvious question she wondered was; how the hell would she get over there? Her hands and feet seemed like they were on fire. Rope became the only restriction of moving. After moments of deliberation and numbness, she rolled awkwardly to the other side, noticing that the smell of death was becoming worse with each passing second.
She could feel the rising of bile in her sore throat, and tried to block out the awful stench. Finally, she manoeuvred herself onto the mattress and fatigue began to creep upon her. Hold tight Darcy! was the last thing floating around before she succumbed to the darkness.
It was too quiet in the room, far too quiet for a human to be dead. Though how that was possible Ansgar could not know. He eyes bore into Mörk's searching for the answer, the truth. Was she dead or alive? He actually hoped it was the latter for the sake of both of theirs lives. But he could honestly say that he wanted her to be alive for the sake of his brother. Mörk needed to some to care for him. Someone like he had. His own saviour; his own Bjørg. His life had been a living hell until she entered his life, making the dark light, the bad good and his world worth living. He hoped that Mörk would not complete this mission and run with the female. But no, he had to follow orders and remain heartless. Yet Ansgar knew his brother's heart was there somewhere. He had to have some emotions buried deep somewhere inside himself.
The idiotic master had gone too far this time. Taking an innocent human and bringing her into the world of Chaos and Death. It was tempting to kill the bastard to end this suffering but it was the biggest sin. To kill the creator was to kill you. If everyone wasn't living in a hell already they had to through that in to the fine print. His hand raised slowly as to signal his brother to move out the way.
"I cannot allow you to do that" Mörk argued. His eyebrow lifted in authority. Though he was always silent, no one protested against his actions without reason.
"She… she.. oh goddammit your going to find out anyway." Mörk stammered trying to find the words to describe his failure.
Yet Ansgar knew what he was going to say and silenced him with his eyes. His curse. His blue eyes made anyone fall under his power. He made his way stealthily to the door, with his hand paused on the handle. "I know she is alive. He stated to have her killed and I know why you didn't. But you must face the consequences of your actions I'm afraid brother. I wish I could save you this time but it is merely impossible"
Mörk glanced towards his only partner with a stunned look on his face. He had spoken for the first time in many months. Yet he did not know what he meant. Consequences? He knew why he didn't kill her? What was he talking about? He wished he could open his mouth to speak but Ansgar's power forbid him of such action. The power of silence was much greater than his. He could kill, he could weave atoms out of thin air into armour or other needed material but he could not make himself speak. Stunned into silence, he watched as Ansgar entered the room and beckoned him to follow. He wished he knew what was going to happen to the female now that she had been found alive. A heavy feeling fell upon his heart.
Upon his entrance to the dark cell-like room, he looked as to where he left her and found she had gone. His was momentarily puzzled until the slight sound of breathing was heard in the far corner. The cast of the light gave of the appearance of an halo around the female's head making her seem more angel-like than she already looked. How he wanted to know what this feeling was and why it was happening.
Ansgar gave a knowing look towards the female and Mörk and desired to save both of their lives, still nothing could be done. His feet headed towards the sleeping female and noticed the ropes burning through her flesh. Giving his brother a pointing look, he ordered him to remove them. Poor girl he thought. What a world to be brought into. He knew why she was here but was it necessary to bring her not some other human baring the mark. He knew it was callas of him to think that but this female had a life ahead of her. It would have been easier to capture one that was alone and living in poor conditions, one that probably didn't have family out looking for her.
Other the breaths coming from her tiny mouth where heard that was until the ropes set her free. It seemed Mörk had noticed the delicate moan escaping from her lips as he started to shift nervously, his feet twitching from where he was stood. A smirk appeared upon his face as he took in his brother's uneasiness. It was times like this that he missed the old times when they would laugh at each other's discomfort. Ridding himself of the past, he began to look at the problem just under his nose.
Mörk grumbled under his breath. He was unsure why her sigh of relief began to excite him, a feeling he hadn't felt forever. This female was beginning to get on his nerves. Was she sent to torment him? Make him feel things he shouldn't, such feelings that were forbidden and cursed upon. Yet the sight of her made him feel at peace with himself. Oh how he wished for them to be normal beings then maybe he would feel right about his emotions instead of feeling guilt. Her body began to curl into a protective ball yet her arms were searching for something or someone. Someone. Shit. Ansgar looked at him expectedly and felt himself removed from his power. He knew he had some explaining to do. But what to say exactly? Oh yeah, it turns out that not only was there one mark in there but two.
"Please tell me you did not say that" Ansgar said with an almost begging tone to it. It was clear he had better start telling everything that happened straight from the beginning. And so he did.
Ansgar's face begun to contort in pain throughout his recall and it was a sign that things were just about to get worse. Though how much worse was to remain unsaid.
She could feel the rising of bile in her sore throat, and tried to block out the awful stench. Finally, she manoeuvred herself onto the mattress and fatigue began to creep upon her. Hold tight Darcy! was the last thing floating around before she succumbed to the darkness.
It was too quiet in the room, far too quiet for a human to be dead. Though how that was possible Ansgar could not know. He eyes bore into Mörk's searching for the answer, the truth. Was she dead or alive? He actually hoped it was the latter for the sake of both of theirs lives. But he could honestly say that he wanted her to be alive for the sake of his brother. Mörk needed to some to care for him. Someone like he had. His own saviour; his own Bjørg. His life had been a living hell until she entered his life, making the dark light, the bad good and his world worth living. He hoped that Mörk would not complete this mission and run with the female. But no, he had to follow orders and remain heartless. Yet Ansgar knew his brother's heart was there somewhere. He had to have some emotions buried deep somewhere inside himself.
The idiotic master had gone too far this time. Taking an innocent human and bringing her into the world of Chaos and Death. It was tempting to kill the bastard to end this suffering but it was the biggest sin. To kill the creator was to kill you. If everyone wasn't living in a hell already they had to through that in to the fine print. His hand raised slowly as to signal his brother to move out the way.
"I cannot allow you to do that" Mörk argued. His eyebrow lifted in authority. Though he was always silent, no one protested against his actions without reason.
"She… she.. oh goddammit your going to find out anyway." Mörk stammered trying to find the words to describe his failure.
Yet Ansgar knew what he was going to say and silenced him with his eyes. His curse. His blue eyes made anyone fall under his power. He made his way stealthily to the door, with his hand paused on the handle. "I know she is alive. He stated to have her killed and I know why you didn't. But you must face the consequences of your actions I'm afraid brother. I wish I could save you this time but it is merely impossible"
Mörk glanced towards his only partner with a stunned look on his face. He had spoken for the first time in many months. Yet he did not know what he meant. Consequences? He knew why he didn't kill her? What was he talking about? He wished he could open his mouth to speak but Ansgar's power forbid him of such action. The power of silence was much greater than his. He could kill, he could weave atoms out of thin air into armour or other needed material but he could not make himself speak. Stunned into silence, he watched as Ansgar entered the room and beckoned him to follow. He wished he knew what was going to happen to the female now that she had been found alive. A heavy feeling fell upon his heart.
Upon his entrance to the dark cell-like room, he looked as to where he left her and found she had gone. His was momentarily puzzled until the slight sound of breathing was heard in the far corner. The cast of the light gave of the appearance of an halo around the female's head making her seem more angel-like than she already looked. How he wanted to know what this feeling was and why it was happening.
Ansgar gave a knowing look towards the female and Mörk and desired to save both of their lives, still nothing could be done. His feet headed towards the sleeping female and noticed the ropes burning through her flesh. Giving his brother a pointing look, he ordered him to remove them. Poor girl he thought. What a world to be brought into. He knew why she was here but was it necessary to bring her not some other human baring the mark. He knew it was callas of him to think that but this female had a life ahead of her. It would have been easier to capture one that was alone and living in poor conditions, one that probably didn't have family out looking for her.
Other the breaths coming from her tiny mouth where heard that was until the ropes set her free. It seemed Mörk had noticed the delicate moan escaping from her lips as he started to shift nervously, his feet twitching from where he was stood. A smirk appeared upon his face as he took in his brother's uneasiness. It was times like this that he missed the old times when they would laugh at each other's discomfort. Ridding himself of the past, he began to look at the problem just under his nose.
Mörk grumbled under his breath. He was unsure why her sigh of relief began to excite him, a feeling he hadn't felt forever. This female was beginning to get on his nerves. Was she sent to torment him? Make him feel things he shouldn't, such feelings that were forbidden and cursed upon. Yet the sight of her made him feel at peace with himself. Oh how he wished for them to be normal beings then maybe he would feel right about his emotions instead of feeling guilt. Her body began to curl into a protective ball yet her arms were searching for something or someone. Someone. Shit. Ansgar looked at him expectedly and felt himself removed from his power. He knew he had some explaining to do. But what to say exactly? Oh yeah, it turns out that not only was there one mark in there but two.
"Please tell me you did not say that" Ansgar said with an almost begging tone to it. It was clear he had better start telling everything that happened straight from the beginning. And so he did.
Ansgar's face begun to contort in pain throughout his recall and it was a sign that things were just about to get worse. Though how much worse was to remain unsaid.
**********************************
(N.B. this part of the story happens a few years later after the kidnapping...I've lost the part of the story and will have to rewrite it again)
**********************************
Humans tended to live a short insignificant life, barley accomplishing anything but a ceiling of debt as she had found out over the years. Yet there was something about this human that questioned both her destiny and his. He seemed almost otherworldly and was definitely going to be the end of her. He was almost familiar. It was almost a silly thought; just because his eyes had this strange power over her, it did not mean that she had to do something about it. Despite her efforts to tear her eyes away from his, there was a strange pull in her body, almost like it wanted something. She had an unexplained urge to move from the quiet corner she was residing in. Her mind was a battlefield to understand what was happening to her, until she eventually gave in. Why not give her body what it wanted, what harm could possibly occur from saying hello. But she didn't want to say hello, she wanted him - Mr. blue eyes. She wanted him now. The craving for him was growing stronger with each second that passed. She wanted to wrap her fingers around that neck of his - make him feel pain. Yet the other side of her wanted to be underneath him.
Conflicted, she gazed back to his eyes. This could go terribly wrong, but she didn't care. She walked over with a purpose and without letting him open his mouth, she introduced herself as Astrid and grasped his hand. Taking a chance, she held her gaze to this human and the look he gave was surprising. His eyes were glowing with a possessive need. She had seen the look in men's eyes when they stared at something that they wanted to claim as their own. Almost primal. Could she take the risk with him? Have one night of pure lust and leave him in the morning alive.
It appeared he had decided this staring contest was going on for too long, as the grip on their joined hands had tightened, and she was to follow his lead. Together they moved as one, heading from the bar to the private room at the back. She was now the submissive, forced to follow him into the dark room. Suddenly he halted and grabbed her face. The nature of the action caused Astrid to momentarily panic. Was he changing his mind? Did he not want this any more? But before she could let the words leave her mouth, she heard a deep voice in her ear.
"My name is Mörk" he said, almost growling at her.
He thought she was an angel; her smile light up the bar and her eyes were brighter than any star he had seen in the night sky. She was dressed in a tight white dress that allowed her womanly curves to be shown in all the right places. His pants strained as he imagined touching her skin, feeling her underneath him. Her body was made for him only. If only she would recognise him. Mörk found his hands moving across her bare shoulders. He wanted to tease her skin, make her beg for more. He needed to hear her moans of pleasure. He would take her and seduce her body all night. He couldn't understand why he was behaving this way. He was sent to kill this woman for definite this time yet something strange stirred up inside of him every time he was near her. He wanted to devour her body, he wanted to feel her soul. He wanted to rip of her clothes.
Astrid felt the atmosphere change.Amidst the lust cloud was under she remembered what he had said. Mörk. The creature that haunted her nightmares and teased her dreams. Mörk face now had the look of a wild animal that chasing its' prey. She was about to be hunted and it didn't scare her. She was excited, aroused. She wanted to be caught in his trap even if he was to take her last breath.
Thursday, 17 October 2013
A dreamy-eyed child staring into night...
On a journey to storyteller's mind
Whispers a wish speaks with the stars the words are silent in him
Distant sigh from a lonely heart
Nightwish - Wishmaster
So last night I had trouble sleeping so I ended up reading a book till roughly 2am this morning. Maybe reading a book that late was not the best of ideas. Let me take you through my actions leading to me writing this post.
After closing my book, I changed into my pyjamas and climbed into my bed for the night. Sleep came relatively easy once my brain had been challenged enough from the late night reading. I dream a lot every night so the occurring events were no stranger to me. But what made me confused was the twist and turns of the dreams. Most of them were like looking down a camera lens that was out of focus but one particular dream was interesting.
As I stared out to the ocean before me, I could feel someone's eyes boring into my back. I slowly faced towards him and I could his eyes begging for me to take his out-stretched hand. My body seemed to know what it wanted as my legs started to move towards him. The closer I stepped towards him, the more my body felt alive. Why was I reacting this way? He must have decided that I was taking too long to reach him, as he moved so quickly his body was pressed against mine. Soon as we touched it had felt like time had stopped. His hand grazed against my cheek, and with a sweet caress I melted into him. I gazed into his soulful eyes; I knew I was home. Without any warning his lips swept across mine....
And then I woke up. Well I didn't know who this guy was in my dream but I do have an inkling. I have had the same dream for the past few days and it appears to be getting more and more detailed. Maybe tonight I will have the same dream and I might be able to find out who he is.
Melissa
x
Whispers a wish speaks with the stars the words are silent in him
Distant sigh from a lonely heart
Nightwish - Wishmaster
So last night I had trouble sleeping so I ended up reading a book till roughly 2am this morning. Maybe reading a book that late was not the best of ideas. Let me take you through my actions leading to me writing this post.
After closing my book, I changed into my pyjamas and climbed into my bed for the night. Sleep came relatively easy once my brain had been challenged enough from the late night reading. I dream a lot every night so the occurring events were no stranger to me. But what made me confused was the twist and turns of the dreams. Most of them were like looking down a camera lens that was out of focus but one particular dream was interesting.
As I stared out to the ocean before me, I could feel someone's eyes boring into my back. I slowly faced towards him and I could his eyes begging for me to take his out-stretched hand. My body seemed to know what it wanted as my legs started to move towards him. The closer I stepped towards him, the more my body felt alive. Why was I reacting this way? He must have decided that I was taking too long to reach him, as he moved so quickly his body was pressed against mine. Soon as we touched it had felt like time had stopped. His hand grazed against my cheek, and with a sweet caress I melted into him. I gazed into his soulful eyes; I knew I was home. Without any warning his lips swept across mine....
And then I woke up. Well I didn't know who this guy was in my dream but I do have an inkling. I have had the same dream for the past few days and it appears to be getting more and more detailed. Maybe tonight I will have the same dream and I might be able to find out who he is.
Melissa
x
Monday, 10 December 2012
It's Not the End of the World.
Or is it?
Well according to my dream, it may well be.
It was any other normal day at work, just casually pretending to do something productive, when I randomly answer my phone in the middle of the store. It was my brother calling stating that my mother wanted me to come and spend the last final hours on Earth with her. I must have known before I went to work that the world was going to end as I simply told her to calm down and look after my brother, I was going to be ok. All of a sudden my dream flashed to the sun burning in all its glory heading into the Earth's atmosphere. It was near. I knew it, and so did my bosses. Yet we chose to spend our last moments arranging the clothing rails in order. I sent a final text to my mother saying I loved her, and that we will meet again somewhere. I told my boss that this was where I wanted to be and that I enjoyed working. Me, a female boss, and a male boss seemed to have come to terms with the fact that death was near, since we appeared to be calm. We appeared to be content.
Then I woke up. I was slightly worried that this was really going to happen, and I got myself into a real tizz about it. After a few moments, being real close to tears and scared for my life, I burst out laughing. Not only have had this dream before, and I noticed it was december 2012, my crush had appearend in this dream. That's when I knew I should never eat before going to sleep.
Well according to my dream, it may well be.
It was any other normal day at work, just casually pretending to do something productive, when I randomly answer my phone in the middle of the store. It was my brother calling stating that my mother wanted me to come and spend the last final hours on Earth with her. I must have known before I went to work that the world was going to end as I simply told her to calm down and look after my brother, I was going to be ok. All of a sudden my dream flashed to the sun burning in all its glory heading into the Earth's atmosphere. It was near. I knew it, and so did my bosses. Yet we chose to spend our last moments arranging the clothing rails in order. I sent a final text to my mother saying I loved her, and that we will meet again somewhere. I told my boss that this was where I wanted to be and that I enjoyed working. Me, a female boss, and a male boss seemed to have come to terms with the fact that death was near, since we appeared to be calm. We appeared to be content.
Then I woke up. I was slightly worried that this was really going to happen, and I got myself into a real tizz about it. After a few moments, being real close to tears and scared for my life, I burst out laughing. Not only have had this dream before, and I noticed it was december 2012, my crush had appearend in this dream. That's when I knew I should never eat before going to sleep.
Thursday, 22 November 2012
Part 2...
Dream number 2 has left me a bit worried. A crush on a member of staff is not going to go well at all, especially when this member of staff is a new addition to the team. My dream was all smiles and tickles - quite literally! What type of guy grabs his co-worker into a hug and starts tickling her in front of customers, very unprofessional. Yet this made me realise nothing would ever happen since it would be very unprofessional indeed. As much as it makes me think, it still hurts especially when another co-worker quite openly state that she would love to be his new gf or something. You know when you get that feeling that your heart sinks into your stomach, yeah that's how I felt when I heard this piece of gossip.
Oh I also have a bit of a dilemma on my hands. I've been short-listed for a place in Korea doing a TESL course but the problem is that the course starts in March, but my PC-ET course won't have finished in time. Do I waste £8,500 for a chance that I might never get again, but end up getting homesick. Or do I continue with this PC-ET and hope that I can somehow teach abroad at another time. I'm currently trying to persuade my course tutor that I can do both courses at the same time. Crazy idea I know. Lets just hope it works.
Monday, 19 November 2012
Sweet Dreams are Made of Sex and Music
At least you'll have nice thoughts of me
When I'm cheating on you in your dreams
I told you before, my closet's clean
And that these bones don't belong to me
-Playing the Blame Game by You Me at Six
So without further ado.....
Dream number 1
This one night I find myself reliving a staff night out and meeting this stranger across the dance floor. Now some of you may remember the events from a previous post about secrets being made, however the person in those secrets was not my mystery stranger. In fact, this person just happened to be my new crush, maybe it was because of the dream that he became my crush I am not sure but anyway back to the dream. So there I was mid dance with my colleagues from work when this stranger made his way towards me; exactly how a lion stalks his prey. His eyes pierced mine, silently hypnotising me. His hand slowly extended closer to mine, gripping tightly so I could never run. All of a sudden I was pulled into a hold that had me captive. I could not escape, not that I wanted to it seemed. The world around me disappeared, it was just me and my beautiful predator. His hold of me felt tighter and tighter, no space between us. The next thing I knew I was laying on my back, on a soft cloud with him above me. With his hand softly stroking my cheek, he whispered words of velvet seduction. His gaze caressed my body, making me feel like I was covered in silk.....
And that's were I'm leaving it, as I am not particularly into writing public x-rated words. I think that you know what happens next. Oh and a side note, my crush is not a stranger, but a beautiful and condescending prick.
When I'm cheating on you in your dreams
I told you before, my closet's clean
And that these bones don't belong to me
-Playing the Blame Game by You Me at Six
So without further ado.....
Dream number 1
This one night I find myself reliving a staff night out and meeting this stranger across the dance floor. Now some of you may remember the events from a previous post about secrets being made, however the person in those secrets was not my mystery stranger. In fact, this person just happened to be my new crush, maybe it was because of the dream that he became my crush I am not sure but anyway back to the dream. So there I was mid dance with my colleagues from work when this stranger made his way towards me; exactly how a lion stalks his prey. His eyes pierced mine, silently hypnotising me. His hand slowly extended closer to mine, gripping tightly so I could never run. All of a sudden I was pulled into a hold that had me captive. I could not escape, not that I wanted to it seemed. The world around me disappeared, it was just me and my beautiful predator. His hold of me felt tighter and tighter, no space between us. The next thing I knew I was laying on my back, on a soft cloud with him above me. With his hand softly stroking my cheek, he whispered words of velvet seduction. His gaze caressed my body, making me feel like I was covered in silk.....
And that's were I'm leaving it, as I am not particularly into writing public x-rated words. I think that you know what happens next. Oh and a side note, my crush is not a stranger, but a beautiful and condescending prick.
Wednesday, 4 April 2012
You see there's no real ending....
.... It's only the beginning
I sometimes think that this world is too real and fixed on the proper. What is to say that what is right is wrong, and what is wrong is right. What happens if the "mad" people are actually the sane ones in the world, and the sane are actually mentally unstable. Society today shows us what is deemed improper. I am not justifying certain mental states here, such as those who kill or cause any harm to others, but the types that use such an enormous part of the brain; creating worlds of their own. Such usage of the brain is liberating and imaginitave. Certain mental illnesses are not what they seem.
Take a look in the mirror. You have a choice. To look at yourself and see what rules and conditions who have been brought up with. Look at how you choose paths in life. The "right" paths. The ones that are deemed socially correct. See how your every day language changes when more rules are placed upon you. See how your mind is only capable of being creative to an extent that doesnt push boundaries. You dress how you are expected to dress. You speak your mind when it is acceptable, but you edit. That is what the world is - an edited version of what it should be.
Now this is where an option appears.
Do you continue to follow the norms as you have done since growing up, or do you take another path? One that is "wrong". One that is socially and politically improper. Do you choose how you use your mind? Do you speak freely no matter the consequence; to speak the truth? Do you dress how you want to against social norms. Do you dream of your own world and see it in the real one?
The mirror is a gateway to your life. It shows you exactly who you are. The imperfections, the "perfections". It provides a second conscience. One can certainly add make-up to hide away dreams and fantasies. Or it can create an outlet to who you really are. The one who pushes the limits. The one who isnt afraid to stand out from the norm.
For me, I am one of those who hides behind the mirror. I only show what people need to see but in honesty. I dream of a world were nothing is real. Everything is not what it should be. I want to see what my creative world would be in reality, where people are not restricted to gender roles, or ruled by the stigma of madness.
Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.
That is according to Einstein. So who is to say that someone is insane when they really arent. We all dream every day, every night expecting a different outcome; is that insane? No. It's what life is all about.
What would it be like to live in a world, where no one was deemed mad, insane, or crazy? Were no-one judges you for the weird things you say, do, wear. To live in a world were I am restricted in my ability to dream, to create, to believe is the correct definition of insane.
I sometimes think that this world is too real and fixed on the proper. What is to say that what is right is wrong, and what is wrong is right. What happens if the "mad" people are actually the sane ones in the world, and the sane are actually mentally unstable. Society today shows us what is deemed improper. I am not justifying certain mental states here, such as those who kill or cause any harm to others, but the types that use such an enormous part of the brain; creating worlds of their own. Such usage of the brain is liberating and imaginitave. Certain mental illnesses are not what they seem.
Take a look in the mirror. You have a choice. To look at yourself and see what rules and conditions who have been brought up with. Look at how you choose paths in life. The "right" paths. The ones that are deemed socially correct. See how your every day language changes when more rules are placed upon you. See how your mind is only capable of being creative to an extent that doesnt push boundaries. You dress how you are expected to dress. You speak your mind when it is acceptable, but you edit. That is what the world is - an edited version of what it should be.
Now this is where an option appears.
Do you continue to follow the norms as you have done since growing up, or do you take another path? One that is "wrong". One that is socially and politically improper. Do you choose how you use your mind? Do you speak freely no matter the consequence; to speak the truth? Do you dress how you want to against social norms. Do you dream of your own world and see it in the real one?
The mirror is a gateway to your life. It shows you exactly who you are. The imperfections, the "perfections". It provides a second conscience. One can certainly add make-up to hide away dreams and fantasies. Or it can create an outlet to who you really are. The one who pushes the limits. The one who isnt afraid to stand out from the norm.
For me, I am one of those who hides behind the mirror. I only show what people need to see but in honesty. I dream of a world were nothing is real. Everything is not what it should be. I want to see what my creative world would be in reality, where people are not restricted to gender roles, or ruled by the stigma of madness.
Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.
That is according to Einstein. So who is to say that someone is insane when they really arent. We all dream every day, every night expecting a different outcome; is that insane? No. It's what life is all about.
What would it be like to live in a world, where no one was deemed mad, insane, or crazy? Were no-one judges you for the weird things you say, do, wear. To live in a world were I am restricted in my ability to dream, to create, to believe is the correct definition of insane.
Wednesday, 14 December 2011
And I'm feeling blue....
And yellow and pink and red and green....
I got told today that my December and January pay is to be high. Now I'm doing a sensible thing this time by picking out a car (when I hopefully pass my test), however, I am also planning on getting a tattoo. I know the theme of my tattoo is to be of Alice in Wonderland but I'm not sure of what I'm actually getting though it will include the death of my wonderful aunty Gillian. My arm was my first choice but the surface area is a bit small. And I've finally decided on getting on my calf :) That shall be interesting.
On another note, I have been dreaming non-stop about this one guy who I know....not mentioning any names... for the past two weeks. He appears in every single dream and its starting to annoy me. Yes dream mind, I have taken a slight interest in him, but you do not need to remind me every bloody night! Jeeez....
Also I have officially done my back in again! Work has actually become a nightmare,my physiotherapist has bruised my back, and my parents think I'm a hypochondriac. I'm sorry but it hurts like a motherf*cker. Any movement at all now is quite painful, though I can now move my arms without any complaints. Apparently it hurst cause im using muscles I've never used before. Whatever.
Anyway I am off to bed now as I have a very long day ahead of me.
Night night
Sweet Dreams
x
I got told today that my December and January pay is to be high. Now I'm doing a sensible thing this time by picking out a car (when I hopefully pass my test), however, I am also planning on getting a tattoo. I know the theme of my tattoo is to be of Alice in Wonderland but I'm not sure of what I'm actually getting though it will include the death of my wonderful aunty Gillian. My arm was my first choice but the surface area is a bit small. And I've finally decided on getting on my calf :) That shall be interesting.
On another note, I have been dreaming non-stop about this one guy who I know....not mentioning any names... for the past two weeks. He appears in every single dream and its starting to annoy me. Yes dream mind, I have taken a slight interest in him, but you do not need to remind me every bloody night! Jeeez....
Also I have officially done my back in again! Work has actually become a nightmare,my physiotherapist has bruised my back, and my parents think I'm a hypochondriac. I'm sorry but it hurts like a motherf*cker. Any movement at all now is quite painful, though I can now move my arms without any complaints. Apparently it hurst cause im using muscles I've never used before. Whatever.
Anyway I am off to bed now as I have a very long day ahead of me.
Night night
Sweet Dreams
x
Saturday, 20 August 2011
What Happens When You Have No Sleep
Apparently, lack of sleep degrades my mind into a sense of mush, and this is what happens during a six hour free at university.
Sat with a pen, forcing out words,
waiting upon inspiration.
Shutting my eyes, thoughts soar like birds -
creating some mean frustration.
Lack of sleep equals distant mind.
Distant mind equals some unknown
or obscure thing to find,
hidden inside my darkest zone.
Elephants, tomatoes, even milkshakes
transform into something fearsome.
Charging forward, and creating earthquakes,
destroying my mind as they come -
screaming and squeeling, more evil sounds.
Who could have known that such simple things
would have the effect of crying clowns,
and what ever nightmare he brings?
Thoughts of being choked, sometimes being stabbed.
More often then enough, I've survived being shot.
Perhaps its my job to be somewhat grabbed
into hostile reality, or perhaps not.
Maybe I'm sane, or just plain crazy
but being a hero kinda sucks.
Or la di da di da di da...maybe
it will earn me some major big bucks.
One may think the above is my sleep,
once my eyes have closen.*
In reality its more than a sweep
of crazy daydozin*.
* yes I know these words aren't real!
Sat with a pen, forcing out words,
waiting upon inspiration.
Shutting my eyes, thoughts soar like birds -
creating some mean frustration.
Lack of sleep equals distant mind.
Distant mind equals some unknown
or obscure thing to find,
hidden inside my darkest zone.
Elephants, tomatoes, even milkshakes
transform into something fearsome.
Charging forward, and creating earthquakes,
destroying my mind as they come -
screaming and squeeling, more evil sounds.
Who could have known that such simple things
would have the effect of crying clowns,
and what ever nightmare he brings?
Thoughts of being choked, sometimes being stabbed.
More often then enough, I've survived being shot.
Perhaps its my job to be somewhat grabbed
into hostile reality, or perhaps not.
Maybe I'm sane, or just plain crazy
but being a hero kinda sucks.
Or la di da di da di da...maybe
it will earn me some major big bucks.
One may think the above is my sleep,
once my eyes have closen.*
In reality its more than a sweep
of crazy daydozin*.
* yes I know these words aren't real!
Tuesday, 9 August 2011
Dream a Little Dream...
I was walking around Sunderland station with a very old friend of mine when a sheet of paper on the floor caught my eye. It seemed like a perfectly clear, perfectly square piece of paper. But upon inspection, it had little bits of glitter in the corner. My friend decided to rub the paper and some random guy (from 90210) appeared an explained that he needed a task doing. For me to go back in time and change an event. So my friend decided that this piece of paper also allowed you to choose where you wanted to go. Now for the mode of transport that sent you back in time was the NE Metro. How fancy! On this train was some other friends (who they where I do not know), and they sent me to Newcastle. Soon as I was there, I was getting shot at by thugs in cars, on bikes, pedestrians. I managed to avoid each gun shot and chased a shooter into a little shop. I grabbed him by the throat and asked him what the hell he was shooting me for. Turns out the guy who gave me this piece of paper wanted me killed. Well tough luck! I strolled out of the shop and went over the road to the Police Station where I asked to file a complaint against a killer :S. She asked for my national insurance number (which turned out to be my Student Reference Number). All of a sudden I was back in my normal Timeline. I then found out that the Guy who wanted me killed was handing out these Time sheets to people who knew me to go back in time to kill me. I started shouting and screaming at the Camera men calling this guy a traitor and other expletives:P That guy then came over and said "don't be to hard on me...you know how it is" What a dick. I then tried to find my friends on the Metro Time Machine by using a map similar to the Marauder's Map in Harry Potter. But since they where in a different time line. No such luck. I decided to go home and caught up with my brother. I found out he had one of those Time paper things and he had used it. So I went ballistic and starting shouting at him " Why the hell did you do that for? Don't you ever go back in time. I Don't want things to change, nothing is supposed to change. Things happen for a reason!" ...
And then my neighbour's phone woke me up at 6.37am. Not a happy bunny. Though I wonder if it means anything... :/ x x
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