The second dream where I saw the world through the eyes of Detective Casmir took place in my home city, Calgary Alberta.
I was planning something or I was here to stop something from happening. I was talking to a woman on a cell phone and promising her the spell would work.
The spell would work? Somehow I knew what this meant; I had cast a sleep spell on the entire city, ensuring they would not be awakened when the dead came back to life. Oh and by the way the dead are coming back to life tonight.
At midnight everyone was asleep and safe. I walked my way to the Bow River and waited for the first signs of life, or death depending on your perspective. Slowly zombies emerged from river, and I drew my long sword and began to cleave their heads off. I was quick and graceful and never in any danger, killing zombies at my own leisure. I was keeping the city clean from some strange necromancy.
In many dreams a flood of ideas enter your mind explaining the impossible location or scenario you are in. You just know who you are and what you are doing like you have lived this life your whole life. As this dream stood I was Detective Casmir and apparently the natives of the area used to bury their dead underneath the currents of the Bow River. But old forces had awakened these restless souls and they were emerging slowly. How I knew any of this, and how did I know to be where I was needed and when, no explanation, but that is one of the funny things about dreams, if you do not think it is important you will not think about it, and therefore you will never think of an explanation. Dreams are after all, all in your head.
As I was working away killing zombies with incredible efficiency, I saw out of the corner of my eye a young girl watching me. I finished the zombies quickly and rushed over to her. She should have been asleep, I had cast the sleep spell, and it had worked on everyone else in the city, but here she was awake.
She said something nice to me, about how amazing I was for taking out all those zombies. She was remarkably unfazed by what she had seen. Her enthusiasm along with her heavy compliments was a delightful thing, but I was curious about her. She was clearly immune to my spell, and the only explanation I could think of was that she was immune to all magic. She was a miracle birth, a random human completely immune to the affects of magical spells, so rare that I needed to remember her.
I asked her name, “Samantha.” I asked her how old she was “ten.” I asked her how curious she was about what she had just seen, and she told me she thought it was amazing, amazing to learn that zombies and sword wielding necromancer detectives were real, which is fair. I promised her I would show her more of the world of magic when she was older, but she had to promise me that she would not tell anyone what she had seen here tonight. She agreed, and I took her hand and cast some spell marking her. With this mark I could find her again ten years from now, and I would remember her, Samantha.
So that was nice, but the dream continued.
I report to my boss, the woman I was talking on the phone with earlier. She is sturdy black woman, and she is mad about Samantha, but much less mad when I explain her amazing immunization to magic. Samantha would be very useful to us when she is all grown up, she could help us fight the evil of the world.
This woman, Doris, and I talk at length about the world of magic, and now humanity has forgotten all about it, which has made us vulnerable to the forces of evil that use magic. I remember only one specific line of dialogue I said to her, I was responding to her concerns of all the recent magically activities across the globe, to which I said;
“That is why I came to this world;” ominous.
She says something about how she does not care for my strange ways, but she knows she needs my help, the lone necromancer in the world.
Later we go to a building, a tall skyscraper, and break into the underground of the building. There are traces of magic everywhere, they light up to me like a pale green fog or dim grey lights in a prison cell, but I see them, I can even fell them. This was why Doris brought me here; she wants me to find the hidden cult hideaway.
A very elaborate maze of tunnels and secrete doors unravel before me. I find the secrete passages and solve the winding tunnels with remarkable speed, but then again, of course I do, I am a necromancer detective. This is reminiscent of the “Death Maze Race,” insofar that I am able to solve the maze and secretes before me incredibly easily because it’s all me. This whole situation is all in my head, I literally have to invent the hidden passageways before I discover them, but in this dream there was an excuse preset to explain to my brain why it was possible; I am Detective Casmir.
Eventually we come to a hidden meeting room/sleeping quarters. It is empty but there is evidence of recent use, I recommend to Doris we station some men and try to set up an ambush. She agrees but is concerned, the sleeping quarters could house hundreds of people, and she never thought the cult could have become so great in number. Furthermore the ridiculous number of spells that were cast to hide this place was alarming; they clearly had some strong sorcery on their side. I promise her I’ll look into it.
This was about the time I woke up.
I really enjoyed this dream. Nothing haunting or horrible was happening to anyone. I was incredibly capable and enjoyed killing zombies, and unravelling a mystery. But most of all, it was such a pleasant display of my imagination. I learned a lot about the fictional character Casmir, he was clearly not form earth or at least not from this earth, he was sociable and kind, he hides a long sword under his grey trench coat, somehow, and he can sense and see magic. Also the world building was nice, this world there is a lack of use of magic, but evil doers are aware of this and hope to catch civilizations off guard by using ancient evil magic to cause havoc. The best thing of all, there is still the air of mystery to everything. We still don’t know who or what Casmir is, and we don’t know what were up against in regards to the cult.
I am a story teller, even in my dreams.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
You Must Fight
“My father said to me, ‘Lyoto, you have warrior’s blood. You must fight.’” – Lyoto Machida
When you sleep your brain releases a chemical that paralyzes your body, this is why you don’t move in your sleep, this is what prevents you from sleep walking. The name of this chemical eludes me, but I know this is the case.
Night terrors are often caused when you become half awake, as in you become aware but the chemicals released by your brain have kept your body paralyzed. These are often terrifying ordeals since you are still partial asleep and dreaming but cannot move.
I do not have any memories of night terrors, not exactly anyway, but I have a lot of experience with sleep paralysis.
Frequently, recently, I have not been sleeping well. I am worrying about school and work, and other things, but since sleep and dreaming is all your thoughts swarming over one another, when you are troubled your thoughts become very hard to handle. So while I’m thinking up solutions to international economic quiz questions and trying to think of some way to find work that will actual pay the rent while I finish school, and some other things maybe I’ll talk about some other day, I grow very restless. I am not accomplishing anything lying in bed worrying about things, I need to get up and solve my problems. The workaholic in me, demands I forgo sleep and get back to work, but the exact words I start yelling at myself is, “Colin you must fight!”
When I realize I’m only dreaming, I start getting upset, feeling this is a waste of time, and when I can’t move, because of sleep paralysis, I begin to get really agitated. I try to twist, and move, and open my eyes, but I can’t, and I struggle for... god knows how long, until my fingers begin to twitch, and then slowly my hands can form fists and reach out, then my legs began to twitch and then usually my eyes open and I’m awake. The whole time my mind screams at me to fight.
I find myself amusing. I’m not yelling at myself to wake up, or get back to work, I tell myself to fight. I look at the problems in my life before me and my subconscious has only one solution, combat. Perhaps it says something about my testosterone levels in that I want to solve all my problems with violence. Maybe it says something about my superhero complex and I want to rush into battle and fight the good fight. Maybe, and I think this is it, I feel that life is constant battle.
My favourite girl in the whole world once said to me, “Colin why is everything a fight with you?” Like most insults throw my way it did not have the intended effect.
I replied with, “of course it is. Life is an endless series of battles, you must fight.”
I think I intimidate a lot of women.
But it’s true you know, life is a forever ongoing series of fights, and there is choice, you must fight.
Just a few days ago, it was happening again. I kept awaking in locations that I was familiar with and yet had no reason to be in, and gradually these dreams within dreams began to make sense to me, I was dreaming, and none of these was real. I began fighting the dream trying to wake up, violently forcing myself to move, my fingers began to twitch and for a moment I thought my eyes opened and I was looking across my bed out my window and tall demonic figure was standing on my thirty-second floor balcony looking into my bed room. My hands began to clench and I began to thrash and yelling at the figure, “Fuck you, you are not real!” I repeated this exclamation a few times and even my eyes shut tight I continued to see blurry visions of my bedroom, my legs began to twitch and my arms began to move, slowly and awkwardly, and then like before my mantra came to me, “Colin you must fight!”
In the next moment my eyes opened and I found myself perched up in my bed on one arm, my other clenched in a fist and at the ready to strike, and I was pleased with myself. I was able to fight off a dream and force myself awake very quickly while suffering sleep paralysis. I was pleased when I looked at the clock and saw it was one-thirty am, I had only been asleep for a maximum of an hour, and in that time I could awake on sheer will power. How Green Lantern of me.
Psychologically this fighting perspective of mine works twofold. First it seems unhealthy to consider everything in life a enemy that needs to be conquered, but conversely it is very healthy to march forward unafraid of the obstacles in your life thinking of them as just another fight in the never ending battle that is life.
I find it interesting anyway.
When you sleep your brain releases a chemical that paralyzes your body, this is why you don’t move in your sleep, this is what prevents you from sleep walking. The name of this chemical eludes me, but I know this is the case.
Night terrors are often caused when you become half awake, as in you become aware but the chemicals released by your brain have kept your body paralyzed. These are often terrifying ordeals since you are still partial asleep and dreaming but cannot move.
I do not have any memories of night terrors, not exactly anyway, but I have a lot of experience with sleep paralysis.
Frequently, recently, I have not been sleeping well. I am worrying about school and work, and other things, but since sleep and dreaming is all your thoughts swarming over one another, when you are troubled your thoughts become very hard to handle. So while I’m thinking up solutions to international economic quiz questions and trying to think of some way to find work that will actual pay the rent while I finish school, and some other things maybe I’ll talk about some other day, I grow very restless. I am not accomplishing anything lying in bed worrying about things, I need to get up and solve my problems. The workaholic in me, demands I forgo sleep and get back to work, but the exact words I start yelling at myself is, “Colin you must fight!”
When I realize I’m only dreaming, I start getting upset, feeling this is a waste of time, and when I can’t move, because of sleep paralysis, I begin to get really agitated. I try to twist, and move, and open my eyes, but I can’t, and I struggle for... god knows how long, until my fingers begin to twitch, and then slowly my hands can form fists and reach out, then my legs began to twitch and then usually my eyes open and I’m awake. The whole time my mind screams at me to fight.
I find myself amusing. I’m not yelling at myself to wake up, or get back to work, I tell myself to fight. I look at the problems in my life before me and my subconscious has only one solution, combat. Perhaps it says something about my testosterone levels in that I want to solve all my problems with violence. Maybe it says something about my superhero complex and I want to rush into battle and fight the good fight. Maybe, and I think this is it, I feel that life is constant battle.
My favourite girl in the whole world once said to me, “Colin why is everything a fight with you?” Like most insults throw my way it did not have the intended effect.
I replied with, “of course it is. Life is an endless series of battles, you must fight.”
I think I intimidate a lot of women.
But it’s true you know, life is a forever ongoing series of fights, and there is choice, you must fight.
Just a few days ago, it was happening again. I kept awaking in locations that I was familiar with and yet had no reason to be in, and gradually these dreams within dreams began to make sense to me, I was dreaming, and none of these was real. I began fighting the dream trying to wake up, violently forcing myself to move, my fingers began to twitch and for a moment I thought my eyes opened and I was looking across my bed out my window and tall demonic figure was standing on my thirty-second floor balcony looking into my bed room. My hands began to clench and I began to thrash and yelling at the figure, “Fuck you, you are not real!” I repeated this exclamation a few times and even my eyes shut tight I continued to see blurry visions of my bedroom, my legs began to twitch and my arms began to move, slowly and awkwardly, and then like before my mantra came to me, “Colin you must fight!”
In the next moment my eyes opened and I found myself perched up in my bed on one arm, my other clenched in a fist and at the ready to strike, and I was pleased with myself. I was able to fight off a dream and force myself awake very quickly while suffering sleep paralysis. I was pleased when I looked at the clock and saw it was one-thirty am, I had only been asleep for a maximum of an hour, and in that time I could awake on sheer will power. How Green Lantern of me.
Psychologically this fighting perspective of mine works twofold. First it seems unhealthy to consider everything in life a enemy that needs to be conquered, but conversely it is very healthy to march forward unafraid of the obstacles in your life thinking of them as just another fight in the never ending battle that is life.
I find it interesting anyway.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Death Maze Race - Part 3
There is an obvious reason why I excelled at the Death Maze Race; I am the one making the whole thing up.
It is all a dream, and all a dream is, is your imagination running amuck. Every passageway, every trap, every hidden clue, I had to make them up on the spot during the dream, and the way my mind processed this was that I was not inventing/imaging these things, I was discovering them. When I think about the Death Maze Race, what was really happening was I was fighting my own imagination, literally. My imagination was thinking up death traps to kill me and I would think of ways to survive every time.
The third, and thus far, final dream I dreamt of the Death Maze Race was chaos. I was thrown into the race without explanation or warning, and this time it was personal. The creators of the Death Maze Race were angered that I had survived twice and been the victor twice. Why was this important? What did me winning or surviving matter? I have no idea, but I had made an enemy and this enemy was striking back.
After evading a few forgettable traps, I knew what was happening; I was in the Death Maze Race for a third time, but why? The second Death Maze Race was a huge success, for me anyway, all my friends had survived along with many others, all because I had led them to the finish line. The returning champion, me, had been abducted in his sleep and thrown into yet another Death Maze Race. As I spoke to other contestants, and unveiled hidden messages the rules had been changed again. This time the winner would be the first person to cross the finish line, and like the first Death Maze Race, the winner would be the only survivor. I kept this information to myself, I did not recognize any of the faces this time around, I had no friends this time, and I could not bring myself to make new ones. It is not selfish for me to covet my own survival before others, and whatever the reason were that the masters of the Death Maze Race wanted me dead I would find out, and more than that, I would defy them.
There was no modesty in this dream, I knew I was the king of these mazes now, and I made no effort to hide what I could do. I charged forward in a rush, leaving others behind me. My feet were fleet as I flew down passageways, my mind was sharp when I conquered puzzles, and my reflexes were nimble to dodge the traps that sprung around me.
One of the first thing I remember noticing was just how young everyone was in this race. I was their elder, not just in Death Maze Race experience, but also in years of age. They were so young and naive, and not too surprisingly, nothing in their lives had prepared them for this.
I watched people die everywhere.
The dream became more vivid when I walked into a dining room, with many other people, and the doors locked behind us. The dining room was very large, and even though we were indoors, this room, within a room, had windows looking out; at least they have if they were not so heavily fogged over.
There were many water based traps in this dream and in this room water began to fill the room and flood us in. I knew what to do immediately; I grabbed a chair from the dining table and began to smash all the windows. Then I stood atop the dining table and waited to see how far the flood would go. I would have left through the windows immediately, but I had the suspicion there would be a clue somewhere in the room. Looking about myself I notice the chandelier in the center of the ceiling, and waited for the water level to raise high enough for me to grab hold of the chandelier and get a closer look. Sure enough an envelope awaited me.
I tried to read the clue, but you cannot read in dreams. So my thoughts projected what I thought the message might say and words slowly formed something to the effect of needing to find key in the roof to escape the room.
I left through the windows and look about myself, ridiculous Super Mario style platforms were scattered about three pillars reaching up about three stories. The water only a few inches deep, did not help my drugging around looking for were to start.
In what can best be described as an angry moment of brilliant defiance, I discarded the idea of trying my luck jumping up this thing and decided I needed to think of some more clever way of getting around this. I realized if I could get to the roof of the dining room I could make a long leap onto a rope and climb my up to one of the platforms, and from there I could use the ceiling’s scaffold to get myself wherever I needed to go, thus completely bypassing the entire obstacle. With the help of one of the other contestants I was hoisted onto the roof, made my leap to the rope and began my climb to the ceiling. Once there I was able to eye where I needed to go and carefully descended down upon the envelope containing a key out.
Back in the dining room I charged past the crowd, opened the door back out into the maze and ran like the wind knowing I must have lost a lot of ground with this diversion even I did defy the challenge of it the way I did.
After running through a twisting wall maze in what must have been record time and leaving behind me many other contestants, I came to the final challenge. A collection of downward leading stair ways that for the most part were little more than water slides. People were falling off the sides and plummeting to their deaths. I knew the finish line must have been somewhere at the bottom of this chasm, so I began running and jumping down the stairs. I came to the realization that this maze could also be cheated, since the one thing all the stairways had in common, even the dead ends, were they headed downward. So I picked a random stairway and once it came to an end I found a comfortable spot to jump off onto another stairway. It only took a few leaps before I realized which stairway would be the right one, for I could see down far enough to know which one I needed to get too.
There were many people who had made it this far and I was far behind some of them so I took a gambit and made a nearly suicidal dive over the edge aiming for the final stairway. I kept thinking I might break a leg from this distance, but as long as I can move I can survive this. The fall did in fact hurt but throwing myself down stairs, flooded stairs at that proved painless. And so I continued to use gravity to my advantage to overtake the last of the young contestants. As I came far enough down the final stairway I noticed that it emptied into a pool, so when I came close enough for the fall not to kill me I threw myself in. I remember the bodies of those who had fallen earlier floating about in the distance. I swam to the shore, and limped my way down a tunnel. There were signs pointing me to the final destination. I limped on my aching legs as fast I could and then deep within the tunnel I found a ladder leading me out, and once upon the surface I ran across the finish line. I had survived yet again.
I held this smug smile on my face as I looked about the crowd around me. There was nothing that could kill me, and this is very indicative of my personality. Remember the whole Death Maze Race is actually me battling my own imagination, and insofar as that battle went I could not think of anything that could kill me. I cannot envision my own death, I truly believe I am indestructible and after a warring dream testing my own imagination on death, I had survived.
It is all a dream, and all a dream is, is your imagination running amuck. Every passageway, every trap, every hidden clue, I had to make them up on the spot during the dream, and the way my mind processed this was that I was not inventing/imaging these things, I was discovering them. When I think about the Death Maze Race, what was really happening was I was fighting my own imagination, literally. My imagination was thinking up death traps to kill me and I would think of ways to survive every time.
The third, and thus far, final dream I dreamt of the Death Maze Race was chaos. I was thrown into the race without explanation or warning, and this time it was personal. The creators of the Death Maze Race were angered that I had survived twice and been the victor twice. Why was this important? What did me winning or surviving matter? I have no idea, but I had made an enemy and this enemy was striking back.
After evading a few forgettable traps, I knew what was happening; I was in the Death Maze Race for a third time, but why? The second Death Maze Race was a huge success, for me anyway, all my friends had survived along with many others, all because I had led them to the finish line. The returning champion, me, had been abducted in his sleep and thrown into yet another Death Maze Race. As I spoke to other contestants, and unveiled hidden messages the rules had been changed again. This time the winner would be the first person to cross the finish line, and like the first Death Maze Race, the winner would be the only survivor. I kept this information to myself, I did not recognize any of the faces this time around, I had no friends this time, and I could not bring myself to make new ones. It is not selfish for me to covet my own survival before others, and whatever the reason were that the masters of the Death Maze Race wanted me dead I would find out, and more than that, I would defy them.
There was no modesty in this dream, I knew I was the king of these mazes now, and I made no effort to hide what I could do. I charged forward in a rush, leaving others behind me. My feet were fleet as I flew down passageways, my mind was sharp when I conquered puzzles, and my reflexes were nimble to dodge the traps that sprung around me.
One of the first thing I remember noticing was just how young everyone was in this race. I was their elder, not just in Death Maze Race experience, but also in years of age. They were so young and naive, and not too surprisingly, nothing in their lives had prepared them for this.
I watched people die everywhere.
The dream became more vivid when I walked into a dining room, with many other people, and the doors locked behind us. The dining room was very large, and even though we were indoors, this room, within a room, had windows looking out; at least they have if they were not so heavily fogged over.
There were many water based traps in this dream and in this room water began to fill the room and flood us in. I knew what to do immediately; I grabbed a chair from the dining table and began to smash all the windows. Then I stood atop the dining table and waited to see how far the flood would go. I would have left through the windows immediately, but I had the suspicion there would be a clue somewhere in the room. Looking about myself I notice the chandelier in the center of the ceiling, and waited for the water level to raise high enough for me to grab hold of the chandelier and get a closer look. Sure enough an envelope awaited me.
I tried to read the clue, but you cannot read in dreams. So my thoughts projected what I thought the message might say and words slowly formed something to the effect of needing to find key in the roof to escape the room.
I left through the windows and look about myself, ridiculous Super Mario style platforms were scattered about three pillars reaching up about three stories. The water only a few inches deep, did not help my drugging around looking for were to start.
In what can best be described as an angry moment of brilliant defiance, I discarded the idea of trying my luck jumping up this thing and decided I needed to think of some more clever way of getting around this. I realized if I could get to the roof of the dining room I could make a long leap onto a rope and climb my up to one of the platforms, and from there I could use the ceiling’s scaffold to get myself wherever I needed to go, thus completely bypassing the entire obstacle. With the help of one of the other contestants I was hoisted onto the roof, made my leap to the rope and began my climb to the ceiling. Once there I was able to eye where I needed to go and carefully descended down upon the envelope containing a key out.
Back in the dining room I charged past the crowd, opened the door back out into the maze and ran like the wind knowing I must have lost a lot of ground with this diversion even I did defy the challenge of it the way I did.
After running through a twisting wall maze in what must have been record time and leaving behind me many other contestants, I came to the final challenge. A collection of downward leading stair ways that for the most part were little more than water slides. People were falling off the sides and plummeting to their deaths. I knew the finish line must have been somewhere at the bottom of this chasm, so I began running and jumping down the stairs. I came to the realization that this maze could also be cheated, since the one thing all the stairways had in common, even the dead ends, were they headed downward. So I picked a random stairway and once it came to an end I found a comfortable spot to jump off onto another stairway. It only took a few leaps before I realized which stairway would be the right one, for I could see down far enough to know which one I needed to get too.
There were many people who had made it this far and I was far behind some of them so I took a gambit and made a nearly suicidal dive over the edge aiming for the final stairway. I kept thinking I might break a leg from this distance, but as long as I can move I can survive this. The fall did in fact hurt but throwing myself down stairs, flooded stairs at that proved painless. And so I continued to use gravity to my advantage to overtake the last of the young contestants. As I came far enough down the final stairway I noticed that it emptied into a pool, so when I came close enough for the fall not to kill me I threw myself in. I remember the bodies of those who had fallen earlier floating about in the distance. I swam to the shore, and limped my way down a tunnel. There were signs pointing me to the final destination. I limped on my aching legs as fast I could and then deep within the tunnel I found a ladder leading me out, and once upon the surface I ran across the finish line. I had survived yet again.
I held this smug smile on my face as I looked about the crowd around me. There was nothing that could kill me, and this is very indicative of my personality. Remember the whole Death Maze Race is actually me battling my own imagination, and insofar as that battle went I could not think of anything that could kill me. I cannot envision my own death, I truly believe I am indestructible and after a warring dream testing my own imagination on death, I had survived.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Detective Casmir Assassinates Damien
Detective Casmir was a tall man with an odd greyish complexion and dull green eyes. He always wore a grey trench coat and a long brimmed hat to match. His face looked old, lines on his cheeks and under his eyes were deeply embedded into his long face. He looked human but like a race of man, yet with features odd enough not to be of any possible mix of any known demographic. He was a necromancer and a detective, he solved crimes and fought black magic... makes sense right?
Probably the second most reoccurring character I have seen the world through the eyes of in dreams. I don’t know why I thought him up, or even when, he made an appearance in a short story I wrote in grade six English class so clearly I have been thinking about this character for a while.
I remember the first dream I saw the world through the eyes of Detective Casmir, even though it must have been so very long ago now. I was searching for Damien, child of Satan; yes that Damien. My journeys had brought me to England and I searched the magic in the air to hunt down the devil child. Interest fact about Detective Casmir he has limited ability to read people’s minds, this is a very good skill to have when you are searching from someone, being able to pick their thoughts out of a crowd, or sense where they are when in hiding, made Casmir the perfect candidate to hunt down Damien.
When I write about mind reading magic a lot of my ideas stemmed from this dream and others involving Casmir, the first basic problem with reading minds is that can you sort through the crowd of minds in a crowded place but can you tell whose thoughts are whose?. Second problem is the resistance of the human mind, not only do people keep others from reading their minds naturally people actually keep themselves from diving too deep into their own consciousness, large in part because people lie to themselves and project an image of who they think they are to themselves rather than a objective truthful image, this makes picking out peoples thoughts incredibly hard to find, let along manipulate. Lastly people don’t think alike, and this is true, some people think in images, some in numbers, some in words, most in a mix of everything, just like how some people naturally pick up on algebra and others understand the abstract people’s minds are a mess of highly personalized and complicated thought patterns that could easily make no sense to an outside observing looking in. So even when you are reading the right persons thoughts and you are reading them correctly you may not understand their thoughts.
Upon landing in England Casmir found refuge at a hotel room and opened his mind to the entire area, he began hearing thoughts from as far away as France and Scotland and the pain was terrible, until a collection of hideous inhuman thoughts came across his search. The devil child’s thought were very unlike any human and this made finding him easy for Casmir. Damien was attending a private school out in the country and he was graduating soon and just so happened to be the Valedictorian, Casmir knew this since Damien was thinking about it.
Detective Casmir had a few days to plan but he wasted no time getting to the school. Carefully asking around he was able to determine where the graduation ceremony would be, a great courtyard/garden in the center of the school, surrounded by the academic buildings. Casmir waited until nightfall and with a sniper rifle strapped to his back he climbed the scaffold of one of the buildings to get to the roof, the building he had chosen was due to the old fashion chimney, carefully Casmir slipped into the chimney stretched his legs our to brace himself as not to fall, made sure he was completely out of sight to anyone looking towards the roof of the building, and waited... until afternoon the next day.
The long night and uncomfortable position Casmir was in made for an unpleasant experience, but the pain in his/my legs was a necessary suffering, Damien must die. Casmir was nervous about the coming assassination; if the devil knew what the detective was about there would be hell to pay... literally. Then a calming thought came to me, the element of surprise was mine. There was no way the devil or his son Damien could possible know I was coming for him; he was not of this world.
Yeah an interesting side note, even though I saw the world through the eyes of Detective Casmir the idea that he was from another plane of existence or planet whatever the specifics were I never knew, I just accepted the idea that whatever Detective Casmir was, it wasn’t human, or at least not earthling human, and because Casmir was not of this world there was no way the demons of this world could prepare for his presence here, and there was no way they could hide Damien from his physic powers. A very calming thought indeed.
The thought kept being repeating in my head, the devils of hell never encountered the likes of me, they won’t suspect that I’m lying in wait to assassinate the devil’s son, this plan is going to work, all I have to do is wait a little longer, just a little longer.
The sun came up and even then I refused to move from my chimney hiding place, I waited until the sounds of the stage being set up was over and the sound of a crowd gathering late in the day before I peeked my head over the rim of the chimney. A crowd was there, but which one was Damien? I searched their thoughts the demonic presence was easy to find but he was mingled in the crowd, and if I were to miss my shot and Damien became aware of my presence his powers may prevent me from getting a second shot, so the solution was obvious wait until he gave his Valedictorian speech when he was on the stage in front of everyone, it would be the easiest shot. So I waited a while longer in my chimney hiding place waiting until the name “Damien” was called out and applause greeted the young Satan child. Swiftly and quietly I leapt from my hiding place and readied my rifle for my kill shot. The young Damien whom I had never seen with my eyes before was a handsome young blonde boy dressed in the school uniform, he seemed happy, and innocent but he couldn’t hide from my mind reading powers, so even though I saw a young boy with my eyes my mind saw him for what he really was a demon of hell. Damien said only a few words before my sniper sights were upon him, and then just as I was about to pull the trigger Damien stopped his speech and looked directly at me, I could see his eyes looking upon me through the sniper rifle. He only looked upon me for a second as soon as he saw me and I knew he had seen me I pulled the trigger.
In one very intense second I saw Damien fall lifeless to the ground and it was over. The crowd yelled in fright and now many eyes were upon me, but that didn’t matter I know I could escape, the people in the crowd were not my concern it was the demons of hell I need to worry about. Damien’s death would reach the notice of his father instantly and his wraith was that of hell... literally.
The crowd never had a chance to react to the disaster that followed. The earth opened up and walls of flame and lava covered the entire courtyard in seconds, there was a few screams but they were quickly drowned out by the sounds of raging flames and shaking earth. I saw glimpses of demons made of fire and others made of red flesh move among the lava and fire they stood well over thirty feet tall, some taller than the buildings. I didn’t look at them long I knew a sniper rifle was useless against such fiends. I turned and ran. I leapt from one building to the next, I heard the sounds of the buildings behind me burn and collapse as they were dragged deep into the hell pit. I leapt from the top of one building into the surrounding forest, it was a multiple story fall, I remember landing and rolling forward to lessen the damage of the fall. My legs and hands hurt from the fall but I didn’t care I could still stand and I could still run, and run I did.
I never looked back I just ran and ran, my heart screamed in pain and my legs began to quiver under my weight. I ran for hours. As the sun began to set I glanced back and I could still see the smoke in the sky from the hellfire. The devil, like so many evils in the world, did not want the world to know he existed, so as much as he must hate me for what I’ve done, he would not chase me through the country side of England with hell fire and demons, it would garner too much attention and he would lose what I possessed today, the element of surprise.
I took a brief moment to feel sorry for all the innocent people killed in the demon fury that followed Damien’s death, and rationalized it as worth it knowing how many more would have been killed had Damien been allowed to live.
After my legs had rested I began to walk again and I thought of something far more alarming, the demonic forces of evil now know Detective Casmir exists, I will have to be very careful in the future, this world was no longer a safe place for the necromancer detective.
That’s about the time I woke up.
Probably the second most reoccurring character I have seen the world through the eyes of in dreams. I don’t know why I thought him up, or even when, he made an appearance in a short story I wrote in grade six English class so clearly I have been thinking about this character for a while.
I remember the first dream I saw the world through the eyes of Detective Casmir, even though it must have been so very long ago now. I was searching for Damien, child of Satan; yes that Damien. My journeys had brought me to England and I searched the magic in the air to hunt down the devil child. Interest fact about Detective Casmir he has limited ability to read people’s minds, this is a very good skill to have when you are searching from someone, being able to pick their thoughts out of a crowd, or sense where they are when in hiding, made Casmir the perfect candidate to hunt down Damien.
When I write about mind reading magic a lot of my ideas stemmed from this dream and others involving Casmir, the first basic problem with reading minds is that can you sort through the crowd of minds in a crowded place but can you tell whose thoughts are whose?. Second problem is the resistance of the human mind, not only do people keep others from reading their minds naturally people actually keep themselves from diving too deep into their own consciousness, large in part because people lie to themselves and project an image of who they think they are to themselves rather than a objective truthful image, this makes picking out peoples thoughts incredibly hard to find, let along manipulate. Lastly people don’t think alike, and this is true, some people think in images, some in numbers, some in words, most in a mix of everything, just like how some people naturally pick up on algebra and others understand the abstract people’s minds are a mess of highly personalized and complicated thought patterns that could easily make no sense to an outside observing looking in. So even when you are reading the right persons thoughts and you are reading them correctly you may not understand their thoughts.
Upon landing in England Casmir found refuge at a hotel room and opened his mind to the entire area, he began hearing thoughts from as far away as France and Scotland and the pain was terrible, until a collection of hideous inhuman thoughts came across his search. The devil child’s thought were very unlike any human and this made finding him easy for Casmir. Damien was attending a private school out in the country and he was graduating soon and just so happened to be the Valedictorian, Casmir knew this since Damien was thinking about it.
Detective Casmir had a few days to plan but he wasted no time getting to the school. Carefully asking around he was able to determine where the graduation ceremony would be, a great courtyard/garden in the center of the school, surrounded by the academic buildings. Casmir waited until nightfall and with a sniper rifle strapped to his back he climbed the scaffold of one of the buildings to get to the roof, the building he had chosen was due to the old fashion chimney, carefully Casmir slipped into the chimney stretched his legs our to brace himself as not to fall, made sure he was completely out of sight to anyone looking towards the roof of the building, and waited... until afternoon the next day.
The long night and uncomfortable position Casmir was in made for an unpleasant experience, but the pain in his/my legs was a necessary suffering, Damien must die. Casmir was nervous about the coming assassination; if the devil knew what the detective was about there would be hell to pay... literally. Then a calming thought came to me, the element of surprise was mine. There was no way the devil or his son Damien could possible know I was coming for him; he was not of this world.
Yeah an interesting side note, even though I saw the world through the eyes of Detective Casmir the idea that he was from another plane of existence or planet whatever the specifics were I never knew, I just accepted the idea that whatever Detective Casmir was, it wasn’t human, or at least not earthling human, and because Casmir was not of this world there was no way the demons of this world could prepare for his presence here, and there was no way they could hide Damien from his physic powers. A very calming thought indeed.
The thought kept being repeating in my head, the devils of hell never encountered the likes of me, they won’t suspect that I’m lying in wait to assassinate the devil’s son, this plan is going to work, all I have to do is wait a little longer, just a little longer.
The sun came up and even then I refused to move from my chimney hiding place, I waited until the sounds of the stage being set up was over and the sound of a crowd gathering late in the day before I peeked my head over the rim of the chimney. A crowd was there, but which one was Damien? I searched their thoughts the demonic presence was easy to find but he was mingled in the crowd, and if I were to miss my shot and Damien became aware of my presence his powers may prevent me from getting a second shot, so the solution was obvious wait until he gave his Valedictorian speech when he was on the stage in front of everyone, it would be the easiest shot. So I waited a while longer in my chimney hiding place waiting until the name “Damien” was called out and applause greeted the young Satan child. Swiftly and quietly I leapt from my hiding place and readied my rifle for my kill shot. The young Damien whom I had never seen with my eyes before was a handsome young blonde boy dressed in the school uniform, he seemed happy, and innocent but he couldn’t hide from my mind reading powers, so even though I saw a young boy with my eyes my mind saw him for what he really was a demon of hell. Damien said only a few words before my sniper sights were upon him, and then just as I was about to pull the trigger Damien stopped his speech and looked directly at me, I could see his eyes looking upon me through the sniper rifle. He only looked upon me for a second as soon as he saw me and I knew he had seen me I pulled the trigger.
In one very intense second I saw Damien fall lifeless to the ground and it was over. The crowd yelled in fright and now many eyes were upon me, but that didn’t matter I know I could escape, the people in the crowd were not my concern it was the demons of hell I need to worry about. Damien’s death would reach the notice of his father instantly and his wraith was that of hell... literally.
The crowd never had a chance to react to the disaster that followed. The earth opened up and walls of flame and lava covered the entire courtyard in seconds, there was a few screams but they were quickly drowned out by the sounds of raging flames and shaking earth. I saw glimpses of demons made of fire and others made of red flesh move among the lava and fire they stood well over thirty feet tall, some taller than the buildings. I didn’t look at them long I knew a sniper rifle was useless against such fiends. I turned and ran. I leapt from one building to the next, I heard the sounds of the buildings behind me burn and collapse as they were dragged deep into the hell pit. I leapt from the top of one building into the surrounding forest, it was a multiple story fall, I remember landing and rolling forward to lessen the damage of the fall. My legs and hands hurt from the fall but I didn’t care I could still stand and I could still run, and run I did.
I never looked back I just ran and ran, my heart screamed in pain and my legs began to quiver under my weight. I ran for hours. As the sun began to set I glanced back and I could still see the smoke in the sky from the hellfire. The devil, like so many evils in the world, did not want the world to know he existed, so as much as he must hate me for what I’ve done, he would not chase me through the country side of England with hell fire and demons, it would garner too much attention and he would lose what I possessed today, the element of surprise.
I took a brief moment to feel sorry for all the innocent people killed in the demon fury that followed Damien’s death, and rationalized it as worth it knowing how many more would have been killed had Damien been allowed to live.
After my legs had rested I began to walk again and I thought of something far more alarming, the demonic forces of evil now know Detective Casmir exists, I will have to be very careful in the future, this world was no longer a safe place for the necromancer detective.
That’s about the time I woke up.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Falling
I remember falling....
I know why so many people fly in their dreams, you can’t feel the ground beneath your feet so your brain makes sense of the situation by convincing you that you are in the air, only when you don’t land your brain responds by assuming that you are flying. It’s that simple really.
In most dreams I do not so much fly as much as I make long leaps, glide, or levitate, usually it’s a glide. I try to move, actually twitching my legs in my bed, and since every step I take results with no ground beneath my feet I begin to make long gliding steps. That’s how it usually happens, though sometimes I make long leaps instead, sometimes I remain in one place levitating, sometimes I’m falling.
I have had so many dreams where I am falling, off of buildings, out of airplanes, in outer space and the planet’s gravity pulling me back home. No matter how preposterous the circumstances the falls are always long, and I mean impossibly long, sometimes the fall consumes the entire dream.
In a short fall, like out of building I always get to see the end of the fall, but the time it takes to land is unrealistically long. They always say you awake right before you hit the ground, but I guess I’m an odd sort of dreamer since I never awaken at that point, I always look down upon my fate and have one of two thoughts; calmly I contemplate death, I’m not kidding my exact thoughts are typically something to the effect of “well I had a good run,” or “well this is going to hurt, there’s a chance I’ll live,” the other thought is an almost arrogant declaration of invincibility where I am completely certain that this fall could not possible kill me. Regardless of my mindset I always survive, sometimes I’m surprised, sometimes not so much. Once I’ve hit the ground I get up and continue whatever adventure I was on in the dream, oddly surviving a fall that should have certainly killed me never registers as strange to me, and I never wake up because of it. That says something about me doesn’t it? A girl I like likes me? Impossible! This is a dream. However surviving a hundred story fall and walking away from it? Sure why not?
In a long fall, like the lost in space kind of falls, that stretch on for what seems like hours, those are the interesting falls. I just fall and think. I think about how I got into this situation and every dream it’s a new situation. I think about where I will eventually end up when I land. I start to look forward to the crash, cause by this time I have grown confident that I will survive because of some kind of dream logic, something like my spacesuit could probably keep me alive assuming I fall into water, and since the earth is two thirds water I got a two in three chance of surviving, or re-enter has burned me asunder yet so clearly I’m invincible, logic that makes no sense in reality but in dreams are quite compelling.
Sometimes the sense of invincibility forces me to assume my black knight identity, that man who could survive anything, sometimes I don’t even need to don my armour and I convince myself that Colin Kelly himself is in fact the un-killable man. It’s in the dreams where I fall endlessly and accept invincibility for myself that my thoughts become very interesting. I start to contemplate my immortality and how I could last so long, and it’s only natural because I simply am not ready to die. Even floating in space looking at stars in the distance waiting for one to pull me close enough to drag me to a planet, I look forward to the new adventure waiting for me when I get there. Sometimes it feels like centuries and millenniums pass while I fall towards a solar system, and the adventure becomes being lost in space and I start to wonder how many times worlds will die beneath my feet and leave me floating in darkness waiting for the gravitational pull of distance stars to pull me to a new world where I can try once again to fit in.
I remember falling, I fall so often in my dreams, yet an end never comes. It’s like every fall is a failure in life and we must endure countless falls before we learn to fly. I think that’s what I’m thinking when my imagination conjures such images, some failures are so great it feels like the end of the world, but there is such great comfort in knowing that how matter how long you fall, eventually you land, and if you are strong you will survive, and if you fall long enough are you not flying?
I know why so many people fly in their dreams, you can’t feel the ground beneath your feet so your brain makes sense of the situation by convincing you that you are in the air, only when you don’t land your brain responds by assuming that you are flying. It’s that simple really.
In most dreams I do not so much fly as much as I make long leaps, glide, or levitate, usually it’s a glide. I try to move, actually twitching my legs in my bed, and since every step I take results with no ground beneath my feet I begin to make long gliding steps. That’s how it usually happens, though sometimes I make long leaps instead, sometimes I remain in one place levitating, sometimes I’m falling.
I have had so many dreams where I am falling, off of buildings, out of airplanes, in outer space and the planet’s gravity pulling me back home. No matter how preposterous the circumstances the falls are always long, and I mean impossibly long, sometimes the fall consumes the entire dream.
In a short fall, like out of building I always get to see the end of the fall, but the time it takes to land is unrealistically long. They always say you awake right before you hit the ground, but I guess I’m an odd sort of dreamer since I never awaken at that point, I always look down upon my fate and have one of two thoughts; calmly I contemplate death, I’m not kidding my exact thoughts are typically something to the effect of “well I had a good run,” or “well this is going to hurt, there’s a chance I’ll live,” the other thought is an almost arrogant declaration of invincibility where I am completely certain that this fall could not possible kill me. Regardless of my mindset I always survive, sometimes I’m surprised, sometimes not so much. Once I’ve hit the ground I get up and continue whatever adventure I was on in the dream, oddly surviving a fall that should have certainly killed me never registers as strange to me, and I never wake up because of it. That says something about me doesn’t it? A girl I like likes me? Impossible! This is a dream. However surviving a hundred story fall and walking away from it? Sure why not?
In a long fall, like the lost in space kind of falls, that stretch on for what seems like hours, those are the interesting falls. I just fall and think. I think about how I got into this situation and every dream it’s a new situation. I think about where I will eventually end up when I land. I start to look forward to the crash, cause by this time I have grown confident that I will survive because of some kind of dream logic, something like my spacesuit could probably keep me alive assuming I fall into water, and since the earth is two thirds water I got a two in three chance of surviving, or re-enter has burned me asunder yet so clearly I’m invincible, logic that makes no sense in reality but in dreams are quite compelling.
Sometimes the sense of invincibility forces me to assume my black knight identity, that man who could survive anything, sometimes I don’t even need to don my armour and I convince myself that Colin Kelly himself is in fact the un-killable man. It’s in the dreams where I fall endlessly and accept invincibility for myself that my thoughts become very interesting. I start to contemplate my immortality and how I could last so long, and it’s only natural because I simply am not ready to die. Even floating in space looking at stars in the distance waiting for one to pull me close enough to drag me to a planet, I look forward to the new adventure waiting for me when I get there. Sometimes it feels like centuries and millenniums pass while I fall towards a solar system, and the adventure becomes being lost in space and I start to wonder how many times worlds will die beneath my feet and leave me floating in darkness waiting for the gravitational pull of distance stars to pull me to a new world where I can try once again to fit in.
I remember falling, I fall so often in my dreams, yet an end never comes. It’s like every fall is a failure in life and we must endure countless falls before we learn to fly. I think that’s what I’m thinking when my imagination conjures such images, some failures are so great it feels like the end of the world, but there is such great comfort in knowing that how matter how long you fall, eventually you land, and if you are strong you will survive, and if you fall long enough are you not flying?
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Death Maze Race - Part 2
I was at a train station among many other contestants, and I immediately knew that I was taking part in the second ever “Death Maze Race,” and as it was I was the winner and sole survivor of the last race (sorry Ben). The first lap of the race was over and people were amazed at just how incredibly good I was at this whole “Death Maze Race” thing. Among the contestants were my dear old friends David Bentz, Tyler Stephenson, and Duncan McLean. They were very happy having me with them as it had made the race thus far, very easy.
I instinctively knew the rules had changed this time around, the last race was a winner takes all, hence why I was the only person who survived the ordeal, this time around as long as you could complete the race you would survive, but whoever got there first got something special... I have no idea what it was suppose to be; knowing this, my friends and I banding together to survive the second ever “Death Maze Race,” made sense right? We also had a bunch of tag along vagabonds whom I seemed to know but couldn’t place a name to the faces, regardless everyone was very grateful that I lead them through this ordeal and we were all going to survive together. Someone even suggested they let me win when we got to the end since I was the man when it came to avoiding traps and finding clues.
All this praise and responsibility was getting to me so I excused myself inside a convenience store/bar, as settings are often blurred together in dreams, when I see behind the counter my favourite girl in the whole world. I am very happy to see, as I always am in real life as well, and I approach her, much the same I do in real life, with a smile and general sense of confidence and unease. I say some usual things about how pretty she is and how it’s nice to see her, but eventually the conversation turns around into the dream itself, the Death Maze Race. I try to act cool to my obvious superiority in the contest not wanting to come off arrogant, but its hard being the only person to survive the first race and dominating the second thus far, but I reassure her that surviving this time around will be easy... for me.
I’m not sure when, but I do know why, I began to work my way around the bar counter and I stand back to the wall at the entrance. I had wanted to wrap my arms around my favourite girl in the whole world but I refrained not wanting to distract her from working. I loomed there for a while before she found the time to come over to me and she asked me why I was looking so worried.
I told her, “I don’t like my friends thinking I’m so much better at this than them, I’m worried they are going to trust me too much and I’m going to let them down. People die in the race, and while... I’m very confident I can keep myself alive, keeping others alive is a completely different matter.”
She assures me everything will be alright, but I continue.
“It unnerves me hearing my friends praise me, I’m not smarter than them, I’m not sure I’m better at the race than any of them, they are a very talented bunch.”
She puts her hands on my chest, like she’s holding me up against the wall, keeping me from falling, and she says to me, “Colin, you are so lucky to have friends who think so highly of you and believe in you so much.”
I look her in the eyes, smile, and I say, “I’m not lucky enough.”
Unlike real life I don’t need to explain to her what I mean, and we stare at each other in sad silence for a very long time, the entire time I never break my smile, I’m just happy having her this close to me. Noticing the moment has lasted too long and she is becoming uncomfortable I tell her she’s right and I thank her for being a friend and set off on my journey.
I don’t remember much of the race after that, my band of friends and I journeyed out into the open city streets and there is a great long bridge, which looks a lot like the San Francisco Bridge, though I’ve never been. We cross about halfway and out of nowhere I know we have to climb the bridge’s tall cables and reach the summit. The climb is great and most of our companions fall behind. The four of us, David, Tyler, Duncan and me reach the peak of the bridge’s cables and find an elevator which ironically takes us down past the bridge’s road and deep into the river below. We ended up fighting/avoiding alligators in underground tunnels, and that’s about where I woke up.
I instinctively knew the rules had changed this time around, the last race was a winner takes all, hence why I was the only person who survived the ordeal, this time around as long as you could complete the race you would survive, but whoever got there first got something special... I have no idea what it was suppose to be; knowing this, my friends and I banding together to survive the second ever “Death Maze Race,” made sense right? We also had a bunch of tag along vagabonds whom I seemed to know but couldn’t place a name to the faces, regardless everyone was very grateful that I lead them through this ordeal and we were all going to survive together. Someone even suggested they let me win when we got to the end since I was the man when it came to avoiding traps and finding clues.
All this praise and responsibility was getting to me so I excused myself inside a convenience store/bar, as settings are often blurred together in dreams, when I see behind the counter my favourite girl in the whole world. I am very happy to see, as I always am in real life as well, and I approach her, much the same I do in real life, with a smile and general sense of confidence and unease. I say some usual things about how pretty she is and how it’s nice to see her, but eventually the conversation turns around into the dream itself, the Death Maze Race. I try to act cool to my obvious superiority in the contest not wanting to come off arrogant, but its hard being the only person to survive the first race and dominating the second thus far, but I reassure her that surviving this time around will be easy... for me.
I’m not sure when, but I do know why, I began to work my way around the bar counter and I stand back to the wall at the entrance. I had wanted to wrap my arms around my favourite girl in the whole world but I refrained not wanting to distract her from working. I loomed there for a while before she found the time to come over to me and she asked me why I was looking so worried.
I told her, “I don’t like my friends thinking I’m so much better at this than them, I’m worried they are going to trust me too much and I’m going to let them down. People die in the race, and while... I’m very confident I can keep myself alive, keeping others alive is a completely different matter.”
She assures me everything will be alright, but I continue.
“It unnerves me hearing my friends praise me, I’m not smarter than them, I’m not sure I’m better at the race than any of them, they are a very talented bunch.”
She puts her hands on my chest, like she’s holding me up against the wall, keeping me from falling, and she says to me, “Colin, you are so lucky to have friends who think so highly of you and believe in you so much.”
I look her in the eyes, smile, and I say, “I’m not lucky enough.”
Unlike real life I don’t need to explain to her what I mean, and we stare at each other in sad silence for a very long time, the entire time I never break my smile, I’m just happy having her this close to me. Noticing the moment has lasted too long and she is becoming uncomfortable I tell her she’s right and I thank her for being a friend and set off on my journey.
I don’t remember much of the race after that, my band of friends and I journeyed out into the open city streets and there is a great long bridge, which looks a lot like the San Francisco Bridge, though I’ve never been. We cross about halfway and out of nowhere I know we have to climb the bridge’s tall cables and reach the summit. The climb is great and most of our companions fall behind. The four of us, David, Tyler, Duncan and me reach the peak of the bridge’s cables and find an elevator which ironically takes us down past the bridge’s road and deep into the river below. We ended up fighting/avoiding alligators in underground tunnels, and that’s about where I woke up.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Death Maze Race - Part 1
I had a strange dream some time ago.
A group of strangers and I were participating in some sort of scavenger hunt, with the only familiar face among the crowd being Ben Arkel, a friend from work. I can’t recall where we met or how many places we went too, but I couldn’t help but notice that many of the locations were familiar to me; Ceili’s, my apartment building, Calgary city streets, Locations in High River, and many other places. There were also many places that were very, very unfamiliar, strange abandoned buildings, lost misty alleys, and other such things.
All the while, as we searched through these locations which were mysteriously linked together by doorways and hallways, we continued to find hints about where to go next. I, for whatever reason, had a natural intuition for finding this hints left in envelopes, which were scattered in the most hidden corners of this strange world. Some of the hints I remember were “One of the doors isn’t locked,” “There is fire here,” “Look up,” “Don’t go right,” and “Avoid the windows.” Every time one of these hints came to my possession I would follow them and someone in the crowd would not and meet a dire consequence as a result.
The other obvious immediate detail that took my notice was the fact that everywhere we went we were in some form of danger. Acid dripped from the ceiling, floors eroded away into pitfalls, open fires, and other traps were common place. Much like the hints, I also had a natural intuition to avoid the above mentioned dangers, as if I had done all this before somehow, yet had no recollection as such.
Other than me only Ben and a few others were fairing very well for themselves, and many began to catch on that I, for whatever reason, had a great talent at getting through this maze.
As I looked at one of the notes it finally dawned on me where I had seen this hand writing before, it was my mother’s. Upon making this realization I realized the voice ringing in my head was also my mother’s, and all this time it had been her guiding me. At the time I couldn’t explain to myself why, but I suddenly felt a great urgency to hurry forward, as if I was being timed on this insane scavenger hunt and it was a matter of life and death if I did not reach the final destination in time.
There became a fear growing over the other contestants, if we could be called that, and suddenly they began to cling to me in great numbers. But feeling that this was a race I tried to keep something of a distance between myself and them.
The most vivid part of the dream came when I entered my childhood home in High River. Naturally no one had any idea where we were but me. I began to think of the most natural places my mother would leave a hint for me, and immediately thought of my bed room in the basement. Naturally I was followed by some of the others, but being rather frightened by this point they kept several steps behind.
I searched my bed room looking for the hint and found it next to my alarm clock. The envelope had written on it, “Wake up.” I looked inside the letter and read the message within telling me to check my desk. As I remember my desk as a child it was a cluttered mess, but my eyes caught a box of aluminum foil in amongst my books, all of which I recognized. This item being out of place I opened it up and found my next hint. “Kitchen ovens and sinks,” was all it said.
I rushed to my old kitchen and checked the oven, and it was on and far too hot to consider investigating, so I looked in the cupboard under the sink. I moved several empty bottles out of the way to reveal a locked door big enough to crawl through. My house keys opened the door, and while I struggled for a while crawling into this ongoing tunnel I eventually came through into an underground cave.
Ben, who was the only person who had kept up with me this far, and out of all those who remained including myself he seemed the best composed. Ben did not have the same urgent feeling to rush to the end as I did.
The best way I can think to describe the cavern would be one word, “Castlevania.” There was a pit that my eyes could not see the bottom of and the only way across was a collection of bridges and platforms. Much like the old Castlevania games Ben and I had to jump from platform to platform, some of which would decay under our feet and hurry us to our next jump. Also bats would fly at us from the ceiling of this strange cave.
Once we crossed the pit we came to a door and entered through. There was a long and wide hallway with pillars blocking any straight path to the back. I immediately knew that this was a trap, and exactly what kind of trap and I warned Ben, “There is a wall of spikes coming at us from behind.” I never even looked back but I knew it was there and began to move forward running around all the pillars, and Ben fell a short distance behind me.
Ben and I both manage to survive the approaching wall of spikes which unexplainably became intangible in regards to all those pillars blocking our way. Once the wall reached the end of the room and we stood in safety behind the doorway of our escape, the wall slowly returned back to the beginning of the room and all of the pillars stood erect exactly as they were. In hind sight that made no sense, but I’m not sure what part of this dream does exactly.
The next room was strange, not because it was fantastic or anything, but because it was so ordinary, after everything else I had seen. It was just a men’s washroom.
There were at least three other survivors other then Ben and myself though I had no idea how they had made it so far, since I had unlocked the door to the crawl space that led to this underground cave. There was one door that led to the restroom and another that exited it in the back. There was a narrow tunnel of stone walls covered in moss that lead us through three left turns and ultimately back to the restroom. Obviously three left turns returns you right back to where you were, and while Ben and I realized this, we could not explain this to the three others. The three other people in the restroom were in a panic now, the same fear that had taken me to hurry to the end had taken them now too. They began to break the mirrors in the restroom hoping to find another hint behind the mirrors. Plus there was a door about three feet off the ground which had no door handle or knob, but did have a key hole. The three people were screaming about having missed a key earlier.
I knew, for whatever reason, there had to be a way out of here, as in all puzzles there is an intended solution, I just needed to think outside the box, or outside the rest room. The real danger, and therefore real challenge was the room with the wall of spikes, we all had rushed out of that room as quickly as possible so it was very likely we missed something in that room. I explained this to Ben and he agreed that we should check the previous room again.
The wall of spikes had reached the far end of the room and was now slowly heading back towards us. I took a few brave steps back into the room and looked about myself and surely enough to my right in the corner behind a pillar was a spiralling staircase leading down.
Ben and I rushed to the stairs. Ben tried to stop me, telling me that we should tell the other three, but I was firm in heading forward, still feeling that it was absolutely necessary that I arrive at the final destination of this maze first, but I told Ben that; “Those three will be safer there then moving ahead with us,” which certainly seemed true.
The stairway went down for many flights and opened into a room lit by glowing mushrooms all standing about waist high. At this point Ben stopped me and suggested we share any hints the other might have missed. I’m not amused with this suggest as I have a majority of all the hints in my pocket, also I am in a very big hurry. So I unload my pockets and all the hints I had collected there within and placed them on top of one of the mushrooms. I tell Ben he can read over them if he wants but I’m not slowly down, and with that I move on, and I’m finally alone... sort of.
The mushroom cavern is full of purple snakes, for the most part they are quite docile so I avoid them and entered another narrow tunnel leading down and enter yet another strange cavern.
The only thing I can see at first is the burning glow of lava, there are pools and rivers of it ahead, but before I can move on I am stopped in my tracks upon the deepest revelation in the dream. In blue glow there is the intangible image of my mother. She is a ghost and I realize all this time she has literally been guiding me, it was not me who has done this before but her, and evidently there is even more danger ahead. It was my mother’s ghost that had left me the messages that helped me along my way. I don’t know what to say, and all she says is, “wake up.”
Despite being unnerved by this spectre’s visit my resolve to move forward is only strengthened. The walk down the long path leading to the pools of lava, there is a great waterfall of lava behind me as I approach the lower levels of this fire pit. As I approach I make out red skinned impish figures that are literally dancing with fire. There is an army of them, thousands maybe.
I try to keep in the shadows and walk my way around them, and this works for a while, until I need to cross a bridge and there are at least five of them hanging around that short black bridge.
I took a deep breath and tried to run past them. They reach out for me but fail to grab a hold of me. My mind is in a rush trying to find the fastest way out of this place, in the distance I see a ladder leading up, way up. The ladder climbs a plateau that must be over a hundred feet from the ground level I am currently standing on.
I needed to cross as least one more river of lava to reach the ladder, so even though there are over a hundred of these demons standing in my way I charge in. Being much bigger then these creatures I push through them and topple over them. Even when they cling to me their bodies are light and I drag them along with me. I get to the short black bridge I need to cross and make a violent charge and then leap to cross it. I knock many of the demons on their back and throw one that has clung to me all this while into the river, it lets out a horrid screech and presumably dies.
My next rush takes me to the ladder and I climb as quickly as I can. I reach the top and know the demons are chasing me still so I kick at the ladder until the hinges of the ladder come loose and the ladder splinters and breaks sending many of the red skinned imps plummeting to their deaths.
The last room I remember was a theatre. The lights are off and I can’t see anything, but apparently I have either found a flash light or had it with me all along, I don’t know. I turn the flash light on and see a horde of ghost screaming at me when the light hits them. They thrash at me tormented by the light. So I turn the flash light off and proceed into the theatre in darkness with caution.
I hear my mother’s voice again, “wake up.”
There was a light on the stage and a haggard looking old man was bent over. His posture looked ruined and his face had a long snout instead of a mouth. I also notice he is made of stone.
My eyes begin to adjust to the dim light of the stage and I see all the seats in the theatre are scattered with weapons. I grab a sword, a shield, and a helm, I pass on any armour, after the last room I know I need to be quick.
I approach the stage and stand in the light for a while, not sure what I’m expected to do next.
My mother never made it this far, and all those other ghosts outside, they must have perished in either the lave room or this one.
I poke the statue of the deformed old man with the sword and he response with sudden violent approaches. The once statue is slow and I have time to wind up and cleave the head off the shoulders of the mutant, despite this terrible blow I land on his deform body, he is still made of stone and is approaching me. The only attack I can think of that could rival a beheading is an attack to the heart, so I drive my sword into the chest of the stone man and he crumbles to dust.
Upon the fail of the strange stone figure, I hear a great applause coming from the seats in the theatre and all the weapons are gone and in their place is an entire audience of ghosts cheering me on.
That’s when I woke up.
A group of strangers and I were participating in some sort of scavenger hunt, with the only familiar face among the crowd being Ben Arkel, a friend from work. I can’t recall where we met or how many places we went too, but I couldn’t help but notice that many of the locations were familiar to me; Ceili’s, my apartment building, Calgary city streets, Locations in High River, and many other places. There were also many places that were very, very unfamiliar, strange abandoned buildings, lost misty alleys, and other such things.
All the while, as we searched through these locations which were mysteriously linked together by doorways and hallways, we continued to find hints about where to go next. I, for whatever reason, had a natural intuition for finding this hints left in envelopes, which were scattered in the most hidden corners of this strange world. Some of the hints I remember were “One of the doors isn’t locked,” “There is fire here,” “Look up,” “Don’t go right,” and “Avoid the windows.” Every time one of these hints came to my possession I would follow them and someone in the crowd would not and meet a dire consequence as a result.
The other obvious immediate detail that took my notice was the fact that everywhere we went we were in some form of danger. Acid dripped from the ceiling, floors eroded away into pitfalls, open fires, and other traps were common place. Much like the hints, I also had a natural intuition to avoid the above mentioned dangers, as if I had done all this before somehow, yet had no recollection as such.
Other than me only Ben and a few others were fairing very well for themselves, and many began to catch on that I, for whatever reason, had a great talent at getting through this maze.
As I looked at one of the notes it finally dawned on me where I had seen this hand writing before, it was my mother’s. Upon making this realization I realized the voice ringing in my head was also my mother’s, and all this time it had been her guiding me. At the time I couldn’t explain to myself why, but I suddenly felt a great urgency to hurry forward, as if I was being timed on this insane scavenger hunt and it was a matter of life and death if I did not reach the final destination in time.
There became a fear growing over the other contestants, if we could be called that, and suddenly they began to cling to me in great numbers. But feeling that this was a race I tried to keep something of a distance between myself and them.
The most vivid part of the dream came when I entered my childhood home in High River. Naturally no one had any idea where we were but me. I began to think of the most natural places my mother would leave a hint for me, and immediately thought of my bed room in the basement. Naturally I was followed by some of the others, but being rather frightened by this point they kept several steps behind.
I searched my bed room looking for the hint and found it next to my alarm clock. The envelope had written on it, “Wake up.” I looked inside the letter and read the message within telling me to check my desk. As I remember my desk as a child it was a cluttered mess, but my eyes caught a box of aluminum foil in amongst my books, all of which I recognized. This item being out of place I opened it up and found my next hint. “Kitchen ovens and sinks,” was all it said.
I rushed to my old kitchen and checked the oven, and it was on and far too hot to consider investigating, so I looked in the cupboard under the sink. I moved several empty bottles out of the way to reveal a locked door big enough to crawl through. My house keys opened the door, and while I struggled for a while crawling into this ongoing tunnel I eventually came through into an underground cave.
Ben, who was the only person who had kept up with me this far, and out of all those who remained including myself he seemed the best composed. Ben did not have the same urgent feeling to rush to the end as I did.
The best way I can think to describe the cavern would be one word, “Castlevania.” There was a pit that my eyes could not see the bottom of and the only way across was a collection of bridges and platforms. Much like the old Castlevania games Ben and I had to jump from platform to platform, some of which would decay under our feet and hurry us to our next jump. Also bats would fly at us from the ceiling of this strange cave.
Once we crossed the pit we came to a door and entered through. There was a long and wide hallway with pillars blocking any straight path to the back. I immediately knew that this was a trap, and exactly what kind of trap and I warned Ben, “There is a wall of spikes coming at us from behind.” I never even looked back but I knew it was there and began to move forward running around all the pillars, and Ben fell a short distance behind me.
Ben and I both manage to survive the approaching wall of spikes which unexplainably became intangible in regards to all those pillars blocking our way. Once the wall reached the end of the room and we stood in safety behind the doorway of our escape, the wall slowly returned back to the beginning of the room and all of the pillars stood erect exactly as they were. In hind sight that made no sense, but I’m not sure what part of this dream does exactly.
The next room was strange, not because it was fantastic or anything, but because it was so ordinary, after everything else I had seen. It was just a men’s washroom.
There were at least three other survivors other then Ben and myself though I had no idea how they had made it so far, since I had unlocked the door to the crawl space that led to this underground cave. There was one door that led to the restroom and another that exited it in the back. There was a narrow tunnel of stone walls covered in moss that lead us through three left turns and ultimately back to the restroom. Obviously three left turns returns you right back to where you were, and while Ben and I realized this, we could not explain this to the three others. The three other people in the restroom were in a panic now, the same fear that had taken me to hurry to the end had taken them now too. They began to break the mirrors in the restroom hoping to find another hint behind the mirrors. Plus there was a door about three feet off the ground which had no door handle or knob, but did have a key hole. The three people were screaming about having missed a key earlier.
I knew, for whatever reason, there had to be a way out of here, as in all puzzles there is an intended solution, I just needed to think outside the box, or outside the rest room. The real danger, and therefore real challenge was the room with the wall of spikes, we all had rushed out of that room as quickly as possible so it was very likely we missed something in that room. I explained this to Ben and he agreed that we should check the previous room again.
The wall of spikes had reached the far end of the room and was now slowly heading back towards us. I took a few brave steps back into the room and looked about myself and surely enough to my right in the corner behind a pillar was a spiralling staircase leading down.
Ben and I rushed to the stairs. Ben tried to stop me, telling me that we should tell the other three, but I was firm in heading forward, still feeling that it was absolutely necessary that I arrive at the final destination of this maze first, but I told Ben that; “Those three will be safer there then moving ahead with us,” which certainly seemed true.
The stairway went down for many flights and opened into a room lit by glowing mushrooms all standing about waist high. At this point Ben stopped me and suggested we share any hints the other might have missed. I’m not amused with this suggest as I have a majority of all the hints in my pocket, also I am in a very big hurry. So I unload my pockets and all the hints I had collected there within and placed them on top of one of the mushrooms. I tell Ben he can read over them if he wants but I’m not slowly down, and with that I move on, and I’m finally alone... sort of.
The mushroom cavern is full of purple snakes, for the most part they are quite docile so I avoid them and entered another narrow tunnel leading down and enter yet another strange cavern.
The only thing I can see at first is the burning glow of lava, there are pools and rivers of it ahead, but before I can move on I am stopped in my tracks upon the deepest revelation in the dream. In blue glow there is the intangible image of my mother. She is a ghost and I realize all this time she has literally been guiding me, it was not me who has done this before but her, and evidently there is even more danger ahead. It was my mother’s ghost that had left me the messages that helped me along my way. I don’t know what to say, and all she says is, “wake up.”
Despite being unnerved by this spectre’s visit my resolve to move forward is only strengthened. The walk down the long path leading to the pools of lava, there is a great waterfall of lava behind me as I approach the lower levels of this fire pit. As I approach I make out red skinned impish figures that are literally dancing with fire. There is an army of them, thousands maybe.
I try to keep in the shadows and walk my way around them, and this works for a while, until I need to cross a bridge and there are at least five of them hanging around that short black bridge.
I took a deep breath and tried to run past them. They reach out for me but fail to grab a hold of me. My mind is in a rush trying to find the fastest way out of this place, in the distance I see a ladder leading up, way up. The ladder climbs a plateau that must be over a hundred feet from the ground level I am currently standing on.
I needed to cross as least one more river of lava to reach the ladder, so even though there are over a hundred of these demons standing in my way I charge in. Being much bigger then these creatures I push through them and topple over them. Even when they cling to me their bodies are light and I drag them along with me. I get to the short black bridge I need to cross and make a violent charge and then leap to cross it. I knock many of the demons on their back and throw one that has clung to me all this while into the river, it lets out a horrid screech and presumably dies.
My next rush takes me to the ladder and I climb as quickly as I can. I reach the top and know the demons are chasing me still so I kick at the ladder until the hinges of the ladder come loose and the ladder splinters and breaks sending many of the red skinned imps plummeting to their deaths.
The last room I remember was a theatre. The lights are off and I can’t see anything, but apparently I have either found a flash light or had it with me all along, I don’t know. I turn the flash light on and see a horde of ghost screaming at me when the light hits them. They thrash at me tormented by the light. So I turn the flash light off and proceed into the theatre in darkness with caution.
I hear my mother’s voice again, “wake up.”
There was a light on the stage and a haggard looking old man was bent over. His posture looked ruined and his face had a long snout instead of a mouth. I also notice he is made of stone.
My eyes begin to adjust to the dim light of the stage and I see all the seats in the theatre are scattered with weapons. I grab a sword, a shield, and a helm, I pass on any armour, after the last room I know I need to be quick.
I approach the stage and stand in the light for a while, not sure what I’m expected to do next.
My mother never made it this far, and all those other ghosts outside, they must have perished in either the lave room or this one.
I poke the statue of the deformed old man with the sword and he response with sudden violent approaches. The once statue is slow and I have time to wind up and cleave the head off the shoulders of the mutant, despite this terrible blow I land on his deform body, he is still made of stone and is approaching me. The only attack I can think of that could rival a beheading is an attack to the heart, so I drive my sword into the chest of the stone man and he crumbles to dust.
Upon the fail of the strange stone figure, I hear a great applause coming from the seats in the theatre and all the weapons are gone and in their place is an entire audience of ghosts cheering me on.
That’s when I woke up.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Earlier Memories
I was talking to my mother about dreams, and I commented to her as I have too many others that I have a pretty good habit of remembering my dreams, a comment that got a surprising amount of resistance from some, but my mother was immediately in full agreement. She commented “I know, when you were young your dreams were so vivid you were afraid to go to sleep and we had to convince you they weren’t real.”
I thought about it for a second and then I said, “Oh right the alien.”
My mom shook her head and said with some measure of very polite irritation, “Yes the alien.”
When I was two years old or so, I crept of out bed, climbed up onto my desk, something I had been physically unable to do up to that point, and peered out the window. It was night, but half the sky looked almost like day, only the color of the sky was not that of the sun but more like some pale whitish green. There were circling lights of pure white directly overhead of the street in front of our house. Standing in front of the largest tree in our front yard there was a short man wearing very baggy white clothing, only his white gloves and boots seemed tight against his being. His features of his face were almost blank but definitely inhuman, his eyes were large and almost bug like in shape, size, and position on the head. He didn’t appear to have any hair and his mouth while stretching across his entire face was tightly shut. His whole being seemed to be the same white green of the light that was brightening the night, causing him to almost blend into the glow. He was unmoving, and the way his head was held he seemed to be staring aimless into nothing.
I glanced at him at first, thinking my eyes were deceiving me, but I slowly found the courage to peek my eyes over the window ledge and see him again, still unmoving. This went on for what seemed like a very long time, until I hid myself with wrapped curtains and watched him awkwardly hobble towards the center of the street light and vanish in an instant. The circling lights then went haywire, spiralling in every direction, losing there once circular form. Next thing I knew was back in my bed and quite relieved that the alien did not notice me watching him.
I was fascinated with aliens as a child, and I’m pretty sure that fascination began before this dream, but it was so vivid, and hapless, it seemed like it could have been a real event. Nothing happened in the dream that could have been unproven in the waking world. The alien did nothing to any property and was only here for a moment in the middle of the night when everyone was asleep, and from the point of view of a child there was not any logical proof that dismissed the event as possible.
Sure looking back at it, the alien’s motionless body made him more like a cardboard cut-out that an actual living being and the very fact I was in one place, in front of my window on top of my desk and immediately somewhere else, my bed, is pretty convincing proof it was a dream. Furthermore I wasn’t tall enough to climb on top of my desk for another year of so.
It is probably one of my earliest memories of dreams, and the fact I remember it at all, I think is pretty impressive.
I thought about it for a second and then I said, “Oh right the alien.”
My mom shook her head and said with some measure of very polite irritation, “Yes the alien.”
When I was two years old or so, I crept of out bed, climbed up onto my desk, something I had been physically unable to do up to that point, and peered out the window. It was night, but half the sky looked almost like day, only the color of the sky was not that of the sun but more like some pale whitish green. There were circling lights of pure white directly overhead of the street in front of our house. Standing in front of the largest tree in our front yard there was a short man wearing very baggy white clothing, only his white gloves and boots seemed tight against his being. His features of his face were almost blank but definitely inhuman, his eyes were large and almost bug like in shape, size, and position on the head. He didn’t appear to have any hair and his mouth while stretching across his entire face was tightly shut. His whole being seemed to be the same white green of the light that was brightening the night, causing him to almost blend into the glow. He was unmoving, and the way his head was held he seemed to be staring aimless into nothing.
I glanced at him at first, thinking my eyes were deceiving me, but I slowly found the courage to peek my eyes over the window ledge and see him again, still unmoving. This went on for what seemed like a very long time, until I hid myself with wrapped curtains and watched him awkwardly hobble towards the center of the street light and vanish in an instant. The circling lights then went haywire, spiralling in every direction, losing there once circular form. Next thing I knew was back in my bed and quite relieved that the alien did not notice me watching him.
I was fascinated with aliens as a child, and I’m pretty sure that fascination began before this dream, but it was so vivid, and hapless, it seemed like it could have been a real event. Nothing happened in the dream that could have been unproven in the waking world. The alien did nothing to any property and was only here for a moment in the middle of the night when everyone was asleep, and from the point of view of a child there was not any logical proof that dismissed the event as possible.
Sure looking back at it, the alien’s motionless body made him more like a cardboard cut-out that an actual living being and the very fact I was in one place, in front of my window on top of my desk and immediately somewhere else, my bed, is pretty convincing proof it was a dream. Furthermore I wasn’t tall enough to climb on top of my desk for another year of so.
It is probably one of my earliest memories of dreams, and the fact I remember it at all, I think is pretty impressive.
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