NightmareAfter a pretty tame browsing through of a thrift store/junk yard, looking for what I can't remember, that part lasted at least a half hour, I cam across a room with a girl and a large tank of blue liquid, like a fish tank, about 200 gallons and slightly taller than it is wide.
There is a vacuum sitting on the floor beside the girl, a hardcore vacuum, an industrial strength, no nonsense, suck-the-water-out-of-a-flooded-basement vacuum.
She's white, but not pale. Shoulder length brown hair in pigtails. Grey shirt. Black skirt. She doesn't look like anyone I know.
As soon as I see her, the dream goes from First Person to Cinematography, so you'll have to bear with the way I describe this:
As soon as I see her, the camera zooms in on her face, and I can see that she's angry, livid even. I don't know why, or at what, or possibly who, but as soon as I register the expression, the scene cuts to over my shoulder. I can't see myself, but I recognize the angle.
She yells, "NOBODY WILL EVER CALL ME AN OVERPROTECTIVE MOTHER!" She jams the end of the vacuum hose up her skirt and slams the ON button.
The camera switches to a shot that frames the tank exactly, there's a low "FWOOMPH" noise, and all of a sudden there's an 8 month unborn baby, umbilical cord, placenta, and all, floating in the tank. I can see the veins under its skin, I can see pain in its eyes, I can see little ribbons of blood, at least it looks like blood, floating off of it, I am watching it writhe in agony. But all of those are not the worst part.
The worst part is the screaming. The pitiful, choked, impossibly loud screaming.
The camera switches quickly between several views, a close up of the tank, a close up of the baby floating in the tank, a close up of the girl (looking pleased, not at all disturbed by the sight or sound), and the over the shoulder shoulder angle from before.
The camera cycles between these shots for what feels like forever, but couldn't have been more than a minute.
The screaming never stops.
I woke up at half past midnight, the screaming didn't stop until 6.30am. I didn't sleep.
Distressed
--
"We used to call what ruined us the storm, though that suggests we could have seen it break and barred the door." -Clive James-
"[Emo poetry] is just a string of words that think they're dark"
-t3hpython-
--
"I can hear them..."
"Hear what?"
"The birds...they've started singing again."
Two: One to screw it in and one to observe how the light bulb itself symbolizes a single incandescent beacon of subjective reality in a netherworld of endless absurdity reaching out toward a maudlin cosmos of nothingness.
--
"We used to call what ruined us the storm, though that suggests we could have seen it break and barred the door." -Clive James-
"[Emo poetry] is just a string of words that think they're dark"
-t3hpython-
--
"I can hear them..."
"Hear what?"
"The birds...they've started singing again."
--
"We used to call what ruined us the storm, though that suggests we could have seen it break and barred the door." -Clive James-
"[Emo poetry] is just a string of words that think they're dark"
-t3hpython-
--
"I can hear them..."
"Hear what?"
"The birds...they've started singing again."
--
"We used to call what ruined us the storm, though that suggests we could have seen it break and barred the door." -Clive James-
"[Emo poetry] is just a string of words that think they're dark"
-t3hpython-
--
"I can hear them..."
"Hear what?"
"The birds...they've started singing again."
--
'Beware the lollipop of mediocrity- lick it once and you suck forever.'
---
CHEAP TRICK
Previous Page12345...Next Page