... that you just can't forget? So, I haven't updated my journal (or anything on here) at all in over a month, thought I'd drop in and share a little. Anyways, I've recently had a dream that I just can't shake now. A nightmare actually, which is odd. Nightmares are the way the mind unconsciously/subconsciously/whatever works out problems. I have no problems. Anyways, I'm gonna share my nightmare.

It was weird in that it had a kind of set-up before I got involved. The first part of the nightmare was basically showing an overall-view and some snippets of this large sprawling house that was some sort of combination between a circus Fun House, a Salvador Dali painting and the Winchester House (if you don't know about the Winchester House, Google is your friend). In this mad house lives a very insane person. For whatever reason, random people wander into this house, easily getting completely lost. Only the very insane person (from here on referred to as VIP) knows his/her/its way around. Just to mess with the random people, the VIP wanders around too and pretends to be lost whenever the VIP runs into them. Instead of joining together, they'll walk past each other, and the instant the random person's back is completely to the VIP, the VIP murders them brutally and horrifically from behind.
The setup gets played several times in my nightmare until an avatar of myself shows up. I wander in, run into the VIP in the exact same manner as the many previous random persons the nightmare kicked off with. But when the VIP passes by me, in what might be a Genre Savvy [link] moment, I turn around and follow the VIP. And then the rest of the nightmare is simply me following the VIP with such a clear dread and uneasiness that the VIP may turn around and stab me in the face or something. And it's such clear dread and uneasiness that I still feel it even four days after the dream.

Besides my general dislike of the color pink and it's loud cousins (like fuchsia for instance), I wonder why the mad house's main color scheme was pink, fuchsia, magenta, and white. Also, I wish I could remember where pizza fit in.


I'd readily forget the dream. Except that I re-dream about just the house just as I start slipping into deep sleep. The house may have upset me more than the murderous bastard that dwelled its odd geometry.


Other than that little disturbing hiccup, my summer is going fairly swell if only in complete isolation (I only aid in furthering the isolation). How's yours going, dear friend, should you have come to the end of my journal?