On my way to the loony bin...

I have some pretty vivid dreams.


I had an especially frightening one the other night, but I think I need some back story here.

On Wednesday night I went to the bar for a band-night fundraiser. There was

a guy there wearing a black fedora and trenchcoat, and had had cool loopy

-chainey earrings. I decided that I was going to meet him. At some point in the

night I approached him (playing pool by himself) and joined him for a game. 

We talked about Tim Burton. He was really nice actually.

It made me kind of sad that no one else had talked to him the whole night, and Lisa gave me a weird look afterwards and said, "Who was THAT?". 

I said he was someone interesting that I had wanted to meet. 

 "He looks interesting all right," was her judgement-laden response. 

So in my dream I repeated that night, but instead of catching a bus home I walked to my old elementary school. In a dark classroom the former bullies of my life were gathered; they were all talking about the fedora guy and laughing at him. I finally stood up and told them all to shut their f*&$ing mouths. I ended up crying and telling them how bullies like them ruined my life and I stormed out dramatically and paced the hallways of the abandoned school

The halls were longer than I remembered, and the walls got progressively dirtier and dirtier. The paper crafts on the walls became crisper and faded as I walked. On my left hand side were corridors every 30feet or so, extending about 30 feet in and ending in a set of white double doors that were closed. (these had shiny brass handles, but each successive corridor looked shabbier). 

I came to one of these corridors and I could see the one double door was open. I went down this corridor. Upon closer inspection the door was broken down and splintered. I walked into the room...

And it was magnificent. White Victorian furniture with golden brushed paint, two huge arching staircases and a beautiful chandelier; all clean and crisp and wonderful. It smelled faintly of lilacs, and the floor was rich hardwood with a thick red and gold carpet in the centre. In the centre of this round carpet was a white table with a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

I would see multiple doors leading from this room and there was a living room, a kitchen, and a glorious bathroom.

I started to run across the wide room to the furthest door; the bathroom. I could see a white tub with gold claw feet....

And then my foot fell through the floorboard. It fell in deep, and I looked down to see the floor was softened with water damage, and dark splinters of wood were deep in my flesh. I turned to look around the room and suddenly the furniture was sodden and worn, the table was covered by a dustcloth, and the chandelier was coated with cobwebs.

I turned sharply to look behind me, and there was a man standing there. Dark hair slicked over like a 50's gangster. He had a tiny pointed mustache.

I yelled, "IT WAS YOU! YOU DID THIS TO ME!"

I tore my foot out of the hole in the floor, stomped over to him (he smiled coyly this whole time). My fingers ran through my hair until I found the fracture in my skull, and my I plunged my fingers deep into the hole there, pulling out a dully gleaming piece of metal and held it in my forefingers to show him. It dripped with my blood.

Upon closer examination it was a piece of the man's dental work, and I could see the missing teeth it had once replaced. His coy smile wasn't really a smile after all, it was that the flesh of his cheek had been ripped from his face, exposing his white teeth. 

He stepped towards me, wrapped his arm around my waist, and everything was clean and crisp again. He was unblemished and handsome. He led me up one of the curved staircases to a bedroom that had obviously once belonged to a young lady.

He led me to the closet and showed me beautiful yet old fashioned clothes. Large skirts, light petticoats, fabulous hats with feathers. He told me the girl that these belonged to never had any money, but she always had someone looking after her to insure she never looked the part of a beggar.

He made me pick something out; it was a hunter green dress and he took me downstairs and out the back door. There was a lucious green lawn with white fountains and statues. We walked down a gravel path lined with white stones to the water's edge.He helped me onto a fancy boat and told me we're going to meet the president so I needed to look my best.

We then sped off across the perfectly flat lake, and when we neared a huge white boat. I looked down at my dress. 

It was completely in tatters, moth eaten and threadbare. The worst part was 

the white section that ran down the front was entirely soaked with blood. I screamed at him to stop but he was laughing manically and speeding up towards the much larger boat. I edged onto the side of the speedboat and jumped off, hitting the water like a concrete floor, knocking my breath away.

My dress (and multiple layers of fabric beneath) instantly soaked through, adding intense weight to my entire body, and the shredded fabric wrapped itself around my legs, binding them. I screamed silently and sunk deeper and deeper into the blue.