Dream Journal: 2016-09-16.01

“You’re going to have to face him eventually.”

It’s meditation time. Head is still too hyper for stillness, but a mantra keeps my focus well enough.

A cold hand grips my right arm and pulls me to the side before I remember I’m physically alone in the room. I pull back. My arm slides through the cold grip. The chill closes around my hand that closes in response and the tension lifts our combined handshake between us. Continue reading Dream Journal: 2016-09-16.01

Dream Journal: 2016-09-13.01

Fell asleep. Felt something close. Open my eyes.

The eye was as wide as I am long. The bronze and gold streaked iris focused on my face as I held my breath in instinct and remained as still as possible while watching the eye watching me. I could see mirth in the shifting of the bronze scales around the eye as the [fucking large reptile] smirked at me.

It blinked.

I woke.

Coffee. Now.

Dream Journal: 2016-09-12.01

“You’re going to have to face him eventually.”

“I know.”

“Worried about what he’s gonna do?”

“Worried if I’ll be asked to atone for more than my error. And by asked, I mean commanded. And by atone, I mean crushed.”

“He’s fair. Friend to mankind, or so I’ve been told.”

“He’s the Master Thief, the Perfect Pugilist, and more capricious than I ever could be. Or so I have experienced.”

“… You’re going to have to face him.”

“Yea. Fuck you, too.”

Spirit Journal: 2016-09-01.01

A traffic jam this morning meant taking side streets to work. Instead of a high speed nod of acknowledgement, I had a slow sashay past the memorial park that no longer resonates with me. Out of curiosity, I took advantage of the posted speed limit sign to drive slow enough to look sideways a little closer at the cemetery.

It was empty.

It was empty the way a sinkhole is empty.

It wanted to be filled. Continue reading Spirit Journal: 2016-09-01.01