I had a destroying dream just this Wednesday afternoon. For one part of it I was flying in an aeroplane and it took a dip, going through a bizarre station of huge, steel pillars discontinued in building, protruding from black nothingness below, and the plane maneuvered all these.
Next thing I remember I was in a campus-like college highschool area, wandering around. It had that general dream climate of being like a Salad Fingers cartoon: post-apocalyptic, night/day sky. I barged through huge changing rooms full of chaps who didn't largely notice, and some other very small, dark ones with no-one in. A lot of what I remember henceforth is muddled with other dreams of the past, as I seem to locate them on a map close to other nooks and corners in them. But there was some particular climax towards the end, as a stern, shrink-type man held up a piece of paper saying in bold "Your life is 68% tragic". In my dream this rung as remarkably serious and that he needed to take me away. I found myself up the corridors to upstairs where I saw in a room with no door open to the outdoors a message I cannot recall made from white pieces of litter. The general feeling of it was that I was being hounded for going insane, had suddenly thrown everything a way and had to just keep running.
Really traumatising but beautiful. I wish I had dreams that vivid every night.
13 Feb 2009, 8:16 pm
