Tempus Fugit

Time Flies…

   Jul 09

Bad Ju Ju

It is infrequent that I get woken up with such ferocity as I was this morning. And thank goodness I did wake up when I did because I was in the middle of the most horrific nightmare. Literally, as I woke, I leapt up and took a good five minutes to calm down…and even longer to go back to sleep as I was afraid of returning to the same dream.

So what was so horrific?

Well at first I recall it was just a plain bizzarre dream – a macabre interpretation of some stage play that featured the cast and crew of Treasure Island….except they were zombies – the undead. I can handle this. It seemed perfectly normal that we should all be zombies. I was even able to deal with the fact that there were nipple clamps and other torturous implements being used during the performance. There didn’t seem to be any problem with the fact that we were all kept in a pen surrounded by barbed wire instead of a green room.

It started to go awry when there was a huge thunderstorm that hit. Somehow we escaped the locked pen and were let loose into the “Jurassic Parkesque” jungle that surrounded the theatre (which looked decidedly gothic). There were mud slides and trees going everywhere. I saw pieces of corrugated iron blowing everywhere.

The storm calmed down and the next thing I know the jungle is a set for a surreal jungle-sized backyard blitz competition crossed with survivor. There were people around ripping up old incan ruins that were part of the jungle and clearing away scrub.

I was standing in a muddy stream nearby a dirt road. There were lots of vines and creepers. An industrial sized mulch maker was on the road and was sucking in branches and vines and chopping them into chips. As if in slow motion one of the two people standing downstream from me got caught up in one of the vines and got dragged inexorably towards the mulch maker….there was nothing I could do and I turned away at the last minute as the person got sucked feet first into the mulch maker.

I heard in deafening clarity the sound of the bones being crushed and the screams of the person as they were turned into mulch. The sound that the crushing bones made was like the sound you hear when a big stick gets caught under a lawnmower. I felt a crushing feeling of saddness as though the emotional pain of the person had suddenly been dumped on me. I saw a reddened peripheral vision to my left as I stood there stunned. A voice nearby muttered that the person had still been alive as they had been turned into dynamic lifter.

Fortunately it was at that moment I woke….in a state of post-traumatic stress. I hope I never have to deal with anything like that ever again….in my dreams or….perish the thought….in real life.

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One Comment

  1. Dylan says:

    Hmm…. nice one. Thats kind of along the lines of the only dreams i have remembered in the last few years. Except for the zombies. I never get to dream about zombies.

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