Unlike most people where they dream of many thing through the night and only remember a select few, I go to bed and dream in length. Waking hours later either pleased or drenched in sweat.
I was dreaming of familiar eyes, with a questioning stare. Of familiar lips, begging with moisture. Then a rejection of sorts had me falling from the sky into a blanket of snow. The word was gray and I stood alone outside a large brick building on the other side of a fence. I was in a playground. I knew for some reason the building was an Asylum. I knew that whomever was inside shouldn't be there. I knew I shouldn't, but I attempted to get in, and get them out.
I did what needed to be done. I attacked a female doctor when she was in passing to her car. She had basic defense training to my surprise. Not anything special but I could feel myself enjoying the struggle. She fought, and I took blow after blow to forearms, shoulders and the backs of my fists. Protective defensive stances. Then with little effort I took her down. A form of sleeper hold used with the thumbs. Funny I never use any training in real life. But in dreams I remember ever move, every kata, and every form of attack to hurt or kill I was ever taught. The women was then in the back of her car and I was securely fashioned in her uniform and walking down the empty halls of the Asylum. I love when dreams do that. Take out the boring parts of dreams for you like a movie. You know in the next scene why they are wearing the other person's clothes and you know later unless killed the people will wake up, call an alarm, and begin a chase to make the action in the movie. My dreams are the same. Lucky me.
It was then through these halls I noticed the world began to change. Every door I passed I could see the patient in the small window. Some of the normal type. Strapped into jackets and drooling. Some throwing fireballs at the walls with their hands. I take that to be my love of X-Men movies coming out. There were more, so many more. The farther I walked the worse it got. The undead walking in circles their faces falling off the bones. I remember blood, lots of blood. Coming from under the doors and seeping out into the hallway. Which now became like "Relativity" by M.C. Escher. I was locked in a world with different types of gravity. I'd head downward and end up on the roof. Going left I'd be behind where I came and standing still I saw myself pass by many times.
I found a door, after walking down a spiral staircase. I was then in an old room I remember from childhood. My dad took me to meet a famous yoga teacher. The one who invented most moves that have been recorded today. It was his living room open to the backyard. It was sunny out but still I wasn't pleased to be there. The closet to the right was opened and there was a little girl. Actually a friend of mine at a younger age, tying on pink fur coats that were way too big for her. I knew she was trapped but I hadn't the slightest idea on how to get her out.
She looked at me and cried. Her crying made me cry in frustration. She then asked my I was bleeding. Touching my face she trapped my blood tears between her fingers and looking at me dissolved into ash. The way Claudia does when trapped in the under ground well. The sun moves until directly above her and she can not escape but burn, that poor vampire child.
I remember waking to the dim light of morning or maybe early afternoon. I remember touching my face and looking at my fingers. Nothing but my mouth tasted of blood. I had bit my tongue in my sleep. That familiar rust taste. I almost didn't remember what I had been dreaming about. I had to stray away from trying to remember to remember.
Pulling my blinds up the world outside was as gray as my dream had been. Opening the door the cold brought in the scent of smoke from fires in warm homes. Later those fires would become ash, and where does it leave me? Believe something bigger is coming and I will soon cry blood tears in a world of fire?
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