Awesome (unfinished) dream

The dream was set in my teenage years when I had a healthy interest in paganism and white magic ( Wicca). The scene was set like the program ‘warehouse 13’ and I had just shared a kiss with some hot older guy in the middle of searching for a magical object. Well we found it . A small gold box and took it with us. It did nothing until my blonde sister (not my real sister, she has black hair) touched it it expanded into this golden box large enough to hold a human standing up and with transparent panels containing a gold book.
Immediately it started controlling my sister age about 8. She was the only one who could enter the box and read from the book. She believed if she did that she would be able to fly, and the paper wings stuck to her back would become real. As a little girl she would do anything for the promise of flight so I tried to simulate her flying up through a window but the idiots inside let her out again, not understanding their plight. outside the golden box were instructions. If I could get her to willingly remove her wings before she stepped in the box then the process could not happen.
What she didn’t realise was that if she entered the box and read from the book a dark force would be unleashed so everyone in the vicinity would be killed. She was the chosen innocent one but as her closest genetic relative if she failed to complete the task, I would have expected to either do it in her place or pay the price…It was necessary for me to split into two and watch from equidistant places. From my bifurcated locations I whispered to her that of she had any reservations about the process she must tear up the book or sprinkle lime juice over it. As a sign of willing she approached with a lime in hand but tranced look on her face. When she stepped inside a fire engulfed the box and I held my breath to hope she made the right choice. There was a great roar and explosion. I was speaking some language I’ve never heard of then everything went black.

The next scene was at present time inside a gigantic church. The pews were full of my sixth form peers, those who would have been in the area when the first part of the dream occurred. We had all been summoned there for a trial. A literal witch hunt. Groups were called up, judged and either let go free or burnt alive inside the church. Those who came back to life were killed by sword and then known to be dabbling in the ‘dark arts’. Midway through sun was streaming in so we all had to turn 180 degrees and shuffle towards the other end of the church. They held up examples of incriminating object such as a green face mask like the ones I made for a masquerade ball a few years ago, and several items of jewellery reminiscent of my own. When finally I and SO were called up my mother was in charge of the registration…they spoke to him first and he confessed that I had forced him to paint a mask and that he knew nothing else so he was set free. This whole time I said nothing, knowing I was the one they were looking for, knowing I had a gothic bracelet which cemented my identification and yet I kept saying in my head it was only ever white magic, that these people were far more evil than I. The woman looked at me with great fear in her eyes saying she didn’t like the sound of what I was saying, she conferred with my mother giving me these terrified glances like she couldn’t beleive it was really me. Like they thought I was just about to conjure something evil, like I had so much power and I just had a smile on my face.

Then I was woken up.
Ffs. The most awesome dream for ages and I get woken up! Gah!


Peters funeral, or how to make your girlfriend (who has a broken wrist) feel as anxious and shit about herself as possible

As the title says. It’s nice to get some practice getting teary eyed before you go to a funeral, right?
I guess things have calmed down now, but why choose that morning to get stressed and lay into me about my insufficiencies etc…I really wish I’d gone alone.
I’d better change the topic, I dont want to wind myself up again.
I’m So so fricken tired. This stupid cast means I seem to wake up every 30 mins or so….somehow I made it to rem sleep because I’m pretty sure my conscious brain wouldn’t concoct a story involving me desperately trying to seduce someone from my past….at least, not that person, yet there was a trip on a boat which transformed into a car, and a hippie apaRtment with a broken toilet. None of it made sense. Except that I recently had email contact from said person and some inexplicably tiny part of me wonders what if….so it snowballs until I know full well that reality falls pretty darned far from what has evolved in my head. Did that ever happens to you?

The funeral went ok. I mean, I had this weird realisation midway through the service that peters dead and presumably partially decomposed body was in the casket…I guess id rather not think about it. I sung the hymns even though I cant control the volume of my high notes and I declined all forms of prayer / blessing. I guess it is comforting for people to beleive that Jesus welcomes you into death and leads you to god, but I don’t buy it. What I suspect is that in the final moments of life something in the brain jars and there is this moment that feels like eternity where whatever you believe will happen to you appears to happen, but the moment has to eventually and then you are gone save for the marks you left with the living.
So if you want to believe Christ is going to save you, then when the time comes,I hope it feels like he does. That is all.
I am going to miss him. Peter, not Jesus. I have met unicorns and dragons, and faeries but never a messiah…I prefer the unicorns. I am concerned about this alleged indelible mark I had put on me as a child….I never asked for that..I dont want the blanket Christian pre-death vision just because I got baptised, that’s not fair.