I had a rich, disturbing dream that chalenges both my tougnue and memory. Very personal, yet very obscure, and nothing i just want to forget to the couch or to my recent favorite games.
The minds of gamers are good and durrable, and this hardly belongs on my only other stomping ground, idlechannel
I cant recall most of it, but i was in a world, complex as all hell, and way beyond anything i could understand. I was very clear minded.
The laws were very harsh, and enforced with strange brutality that has little or nothing to do with my Canadian birth, and with an air of inteligent vengance. There was no particular waymarkers to this dream.
I started off confused, and of little mind and inteligence, and grew as I took note of the surroundings. I seen many things, some things i know i saw as differently, but remember as places from a cousins house to the woods i spent so much time in, though in truth, a fraction of my days at the best.
I shortly in met my freind gabe, whom him and i grew apart as the years went on.
The place i was in had sophisticated technology, and it was never bright. I never realy saw the sun. I spent a good part of my earlier days, save time working in construction, avoiding the sun and not be weird... mostly to avoid getting in the thick-layed quasi of labeling, and the passive rage of people trying to put up with political correctness and that. I tan pretty well at any rate.
I almost got used to that world, even after a thing where my right femur was drilled into unanesthetized and injected with the (nutritional) essence of tuna and dolphin... i dont like red fish, and i suspected in a corner of my fear and pain addled mind that it was an intentional act, but i had made myself believe it was good intended durring the act to throw off suspicion.
I am not dignifying the dolphin issue with a thought right now, and probably ever.
What was visual hours and felt like weeks passed on in this dream, near the end surmounting to unimaginable scales of things so hard to explain, but various forms of torture, attacks on this body, which, i both love and test, since with care, it can more than spare to inquire about scurvy and seems to heal from brutalities as long as i keep it fed as it desires, and now get some good sun, baking my back coppers and blooded browns, until i can feel the need to retreat from its health itself, and moreover, now that I've found horseradish, though garlic will do in a pinch, for the good sulpher that science has so kindly overlooked in mass, and roles near more important, and with far more role, than iron.
What i will dignify with a thought is that supher, which was present as its acid in Coca Cola before it started tasting unrewarding, in great amounts in horseradish, and fair amounts in garlic, as well in marrow, though clogged with exess-poisonous amounts of omegas, as well as the supliment MSM... methyl sulphonyl methane... is responsible for health from energy and joint healing, bone density, playing little to calcium, which i have now started taking since my (tooth) enamels has gone quite in the color of raw hyde and a long range of things, assuming you also get sun.
Or im just a high-school drop out who whatever... your decision, let those of my likeness flourish, in the new true will of this befuddled new world.
So in coninued after quite a few new and intriging horrors i cant remember, means of torment far beyond where convention more than takes my notice, to the degree of the venture itself having an interfered affect to it, and it clearly affected my sanity, because i was, due to the similarities aside from the camoflage of the day, imagining him as various of arcetypes that Xiahou Cao, adopted Cao, belonged to, that are present in TV from Recess's King Bob to Monty Burns.
Eventaly, this world gave way, literaly, and my next fear was the fall after a more than harrowing aside born of boredom and bad luck. Somewhere before or durring the fall Gabe said to me that this is a war between the Dark and the Light, in good chance between the clasical thoughts of evil and good, of bad and kind, and we were Dark.
I fell far, and never got the chance to see the construction of the clearly massive building i was in, but sneered on my way down that the lower levels were simple a solid uninterupted foam that didnt help slow me down, something off-green and soft and brittle, similar to, but not identical to this stuff used to jab plastic flowers in. This was simply made denser, with a pinch of better quality polymer added for a cheap improvement to the quality.
The next place i was was a beach, bright, incredible, and i barely made an outward show to bright sun and made plans get as much as i can while i worked.
Given a choice of a various of boats, from wonderfuly old dinged up aluminal boats we used in contruction work up at the lakes, to painted little cottage dingys, i noticed two boats, one with a small stamp of the Union Jack and one with the Stars and Stripes, I assembled the Union Jack boat, with the Union Jack moter, and the Union Jack handle, not sure if the handle is detatchable in real, took a quick revel over the skills in war ive learned over the years in real life, and thought of the Cadets, my rank as private, and thought 'Fuck it...', yelled "Tally ho!"
Gabe gave my an angry sneer.
That was disturing to recite.
The same beach, from its light, and its air, was in an earlier dream, set in a futurama inspired world of some sort, but aimed for me, something of my dream. Cargoing tobbaco, cociane, and all the drugs of ones dream in those old plastic-shelled tobbaco bags, with almost no technology in sight, but something i found more disturbing than rousing, nanotech it might be, or a hidiously brutal metaphor i took as real, including a playing card which when burnt, down past its ashes, yeilded its paints, which were the same color as their origin, made form final stage oxides, red iron, blacks from something unidentified, even, on an idea to create four more suits and try to make more card games, blue of this azure rock i found years ago, and now know as rare, more than the fifty-something pounds of jade, harded and far tougher than soapstone, and dead uniform in green, my dad tossed into a fire, and then crumbled by my very fingers.
Im alot bigger than him, and a far better fighter on all planes, but my dad is a manipulative prick. My Father Lineage seems to take natures from the mother half and bring a potentialy corrupting boatload of sly and clever, though hardly memory, having a lineage of fathers from a pissed off german looking dude, to a conservatively-principled man, my fathers father, who was generous and rebelious, to lines i dont know by more than names, and having play some time back in bootlegging, which brought this line of Evans to Canada, for reasons i can only assume.
Its been a long time since i talked to anyone, and a long time since i wrote anything long, but i now see how good the English tongue is at explaining itself. huzzah! though I would be an idiot to talk like this to anyone, my public toungue dried and husked, but still with enough talent, and my decent, though unusual appearance (something like Brick (as himself) met the fried food and the sloth of joblessness) to not explain the odd goings in this region of Southern Ontario.
I suppect my almost-entirely Liberal Party or far left NDP peers to be... how shall i say this... plotting against me. Fucking lunatics.
I shower every day and keep neat when im out and about, which, as much as i hate to use this bedamned phrase, ranks me from a 'four' to at least and 'eight', visibly fat, but with a freakish musclemass and a somewhat acceptably handsome face, that can be better describled as more of a armor class. Something like alec mason if he wasnt fed on space flour and space liver. (DEATH TO THE OPRESSORS!) But ya know, unemployed, tired and fat. Or maybe what he uses to get scrap from space hummers and space jeeps and space APCs (so crunchy).
Whats creepy too is that aside from hitting things hard, i can also aim, unlike every american-esqe (friggin french words) protagonist that ever was, all Alex and the dude from Two Diddy Dum Diddy Two, grumbly and a open about the mild sinister.
Hehehe...
Well, Ill be around. this dream has left me unwhole, though the fractures of my mind are healing.
Ya know your life is bad when it was for the Cadets at the time as well as once belonged you didnt sledge your dad into gravy before you could go to big kids jail at sixteen.
Dont know, wont complain, they force you to use libbo words here, like everywhere i guess. Basicly a test. As usual, all they managed to do was agrevate and tire, rather than anything.
And here, at twenty four i stand, jobless, refusing to get union work for twice the pay, and an expectation not to do like no one else and work eight hours for eight hours, as if they hire outside their relatives anyways, and get ronery enough to concider food services... which might get me around that psychos thoughts on the goodly Micky D's.
Even if your bigger than him, the weight of your sleep selective, and you-name-it, he will not have his son enjoying blurb blurb blurb etcetera in far less words.
Pathetic bastard.
(thank you all)
I'll be around
The minds of gamers are good and durrable, and this hardly belongs on my only other stomping ground, idlechannel
I cant recall most of it, but i was in a world, complex as all hell, and way beyond anything i could understand. I was very clear minded.
The laws were very harsh, and enforced with strange brutality that has little or nothing to do with my Canadian birth, and with an air of inteligent vengance. There was no particular waymarkers to this dream.
I started off confused, and of little mind and inteligence, and grew as I took note of the surroundings. I seen many things, some things i know i saw as differently, but remember as places from a cousins house to the woods i spent so much time in, though in truth, a fraction of my days at the best.
I shortly in met my freind gabe, whom him and i grew apart as the years went on.
The place i was in had sophisticated technology, and it was never bright. I never realy saw the sun. I spent a good part of my earlier days, save time working in construction, avoiding the sun and not be weird... mostly to avoid getting in the thick-layed quasi of labeling, and the passive rage of people trying to put up with political correctness and that. I tan pretty well at any rate.
I almost got used to that world, even after a thing where my right femur was drilled into unanesthetized and injected with the (nutritional) essence of tuna and dolphin... i dont like red fish, and i suspected in a corner of my fear and pain addled mind that it was an intentional act, but i had made myself believe it was good intended durring the act to throw off suspicion.
I am not dignifying the dolphin issue with a thought right now, and probably ever.
What was visual hours and felt like weeks passed on in this dream, near the end surmounting to unimaginable scales of things so hard to explain, but various forms of torture, attacks on this body, which, i both love and test, since with care, it can more than spare to inquire about scurvy and seems to heal from brutalities as long as i keep it fed as it desires, and now get some good sun, baking my back coppers and blooded browns, until i can feel the need to retreat from its health itself, and moreover, now that I've found horseradish, though garlic will do in a pinch, for the good sulpher that science has so kindly overlooked in mass, and roles near more important, and with far more role, than iron.
What i will dignify with a thought is that supher, which was present as its acid in Coca Cola before it started tasting unrewarding, in great amounts in horseradish, and fair amounts in garlic, as well in marrow, though clogged with exess-poisonous amounts of omegas, as well as the supliment MSM... methyl sulphonyl methane... is responsible for health from energy and joint healing, bone density, playing little to calcium, which i have now started taking since my (tooth) enamels has gone quite in the color of raw hyde and a long range of things, assuming you also get sun.
Or im just a high-school drop out who whatever... your decision, let those of my likeness flourish, in the new true will of this befuddled new world.
So in coninued after quite a few new and intriging horrors i cant remember, means of torment far beyond where convention more than takes my notice, to the degree of the venture itself having an interfered affect to it, and it clearly affected my sanity, because i was, due to the similarities aside from the camoflage of the day, imagining him as various of arcetypes that Xiahou Cao, adopted Cao, belonged to, that are present in TV from Recess's King Bob to Monty Burns.
Eventaly, this world gave way, literaly, and my next fear was the fall after a more than harrowing aside born of boredom and bad luck. Somewhere before or durring the fall Gabe said to me that this is a war between the Dark and the Light, in good chance between the clasical thoughts of evil and good, of bad and kind, and we were Dark.
I fell far, and never got the chance to see the construction of the clearly massive building i was in, but sneered on my way down that the lower levels were simple a solid uninterupted foam that didnt help slow me down, something off-green and soft and brittle, similar to, but not identical to this stuff used to jab plastic flowers in. This was simply made denser, with a pinch of better quality polymer added for a cheap improvement to the quality.
The next place i was was a beach, bright, incredible, and i barely made an outward show to bright sun and made plans get as much as i can while i worked.
Given a choice of a various of boats, from wonderfuly old dinged up aluminal boats we used in contruction work up at the lakes, to painted little cottage dingys, i noticed two boats, one with a small stamp of the Union Jack and one with the Stars and Stripes, I assembled the Union Jack boat, with the Union Jack moter, and the Union Jack handle, not sure if the handle is detatchable in real, took a quick revel over the skills in war ive learned over the years in real life, and thought of the Cadets, my rank as private, and thought 'Fuck it...', yelled "Tally ho!"
Gabe gave my an angry sneer.
That was disturing to recite.
The same beach, from its light, and its air, was in an earlier dream, set in a futurama inspired world of some sort, but aimed for me, something of my dream. Cargoing tobbaco, cociane, and all the drugs of ones dream in those old plastic-shelled tobbaco bags, with almost no technology in sight, but something i found more disturbing than rousing, nanotech it might be, or a hidiously brutal metaphor i took as real, including a playing card which when burnt, down past its ashes, yeilded its paints, which were the same color as their origin, made form final stage oxides, red iron, blacks from something unidentified, even, on an idea to create four more suits and try to make more card games, blue of this azure rock i found years ago, and now know as rare, more than the fifty-something pounds of jade, harded and far tougher than soapstone, and dead uniform in green, my dad tossed into a fire, and then crumbled by my very fingers.
Im alot bigger than him, and a far better fighter on all planes, but my dad is a manipulative prick. My Father Lineage seems to take natures from the mother half and bring a potentialy corrupting boatload of sly and clever, though hardly memory, having a lineage of fathers from a pissed off german looking dude, to a conservatively-principled man, my fathers father, who was generous and rebelious, to lines i dont know by more than names, and having play some time back in bootlegging, which brought this line of Evans to Canada, for reasons i can only assume.
Its been a long time since i talked to anyone, and a long time since i wrote anything long, but i now see how good the English tongue is at explaining itself. huzzah! though I would be an idiot to talk like this to anyone, my public toungue dried and husked, but still with enough talent, and my decent, though unusual appearance (something like Brick (as himself) met the fried food and the sloth of joblessness) to not explain the odd goings in this region of Southern Ontario.
I suppect my almost-entirely Liberal Party or far left NDP peers to be... how shall i say this... plotting against me. Fucking lunatics.
I shower every day and keep neat when im out and about, which, as much as i hate to use this bedamned phrase, ranks me from a 'four' to at least and 'eight', visibly fat, but with a freakish musclemass and a somewhat acceptably handsome face, that can be better describled as more of a armor class. Something like alec mason if he wasnt fed on space flour and space liver. (DEATH TO THE OPRESSORS!) But ya know, unemployed, tired and fat. Or maybe what he uses to get scrap from space hummers and space jeeps and space APCs (so crunchy).
Whats creepy too is that aside from hitting things hard, i can also aim, unlike every american-esqe (friggin french words) protagonist that ever was, all Alex and the dude from Two Diddy Dum Diddy Two, grumbly and a open about the mild sinister.
Hehehe...
Well, Ill be around. this dream has left me unwhole, though the fractures of my mind are healing.
Ya know your life is bad when it was for the Cadets at the time as well as once belonged you didnt sledge your dad into gravy before you could go to big kids jail at sixteen.
Dont know, wont complain, they force you to use libbo words here, like everywhere i guess. Basicly a test. As usual, all they managed to do was agrevate and tire, rather than anything.
And here, at twenty four i stand, jobless, refusing to get union work for twice the pay, and an expectation not to do like no one else and work eight hours for eight hours, as if they hire outside their relatives anyways, and get ronery enough to concider food services... which might get me around that psychos thoughts on the goodly Micky D's.
Even if your bigger than him, the weight of your sleep selective, and you-name-it, he will not have his son enjoying blurb blurb blurb etcetera in far less words.
Pathetic bastard.
(thank you all)
I'll be around