Three Different Ways:
Dreams, Madness, and Myths
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Dream Journal: 2012-10-31.02
“So. What do you think?” He held up the concept sketch before me. He was very proud of his work. On the 11”x17” paper was what looked like a proposal for a zombie butler costume. He pointed out various details happily. My scowl only deepened.
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Dream Journal: 2012-10-31.01
She had a temper tantrum and threw the pieces of my identity into the river. When she was done, she reached to throw me in after.
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The Exile’s Welcome
I do not understand the words. You speak in syllables beyond the ken of this shattered mortal mind. I do not understand the words. But I understand the pain and anguish that shakes the timbre and foul the perfect pitch of your crying.
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Dream Journal: 2012-10-30.01
Last night I got too close to something and was flooded by its anguish, pain, betrayal, and regret. It took me a while to realize the emotions were not mine, but even after that, the source was so strong and close, I couldn’t block it out. It knew I was affected. I felt its sorrow…
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Dream Journal: 2012-10-29.02
I was wandering the streets of a neglected city. I knew I wasn’t at The City, but that I was wandering the shadows of a physical town somewhere. I heard a crying, a muffled whimpering, and it was drawing me through the blinded streets. Dawn and dusk at the same time, I walked freely in…
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Dream Journal: 2012-10-29.01
“Did you bring rum?” The Rummer’s voice brought my attention full to the fire. The prairie scrub around us was dry and brittle. The slightest movement raised puffs of dust. I never tried ‘bringing’ a bottle. I called to mind one of my favorites, a strong dark rum with a distinctive bottle. I closed my…
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Ask Keri: What Are You Talking About?
A “not rude at all” Anon asked: “I get lost in your blog posts for hours but I must admit I thought I’d pick it up by now and have not – what exactly are you talking about? That seems so much ruder than I intend, honestly your blog is one of my favourites but…
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Spirit Journal: 2012-10-28.01
Been bouncing back and forth all day if to write this up. It’s not anywhere near as entertaining dramatic as the other two dreams, but it marks a shift in the house dynamics. The Bastards in the attic got on my Last Nerve last night. I don’t remember clearly what set me off, only that…
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Dream Journal: 2012-10-28.01
The elders, bishops, and Head Bastards In Charge of the multitude of missionaries I had pissed off over the years by refusing their “advances” at my door descended upon my house. They banged the door, rang the bell, and loudly demanded I present myself to answer for the evils I have foisted upon their humble…
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Dream Journal: 2012-10-27.01
The Nagalands. Deeply red and gasping orange leaves fall gently around me. The low clouds obscure the canopy. It’s chilly but I am not cold. I’m on the rough worn trail that leads to the granite boulder. I can hear the swelling river nearby. Other than the leaves, there is no movement. I appear to…
Got any book recommendations?