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Warning: It is a bit disturbing. (Well, it was to
me anyway)
Another real life dream, albeit a short one.
I suppose it is true what they say, the only way out is through. If anyone has
an interpretation I would really like to hear it. It confused the heck
out of me.
--
I felt a warm stickiness all about me, on my face, my back, my feet,
everywhere. I could not breathe, not that I need to in dreams, but I
wanted to see what was surrounding me.
It was a soft environ, yet hard, and warm, yet
chilling, like wadding in padded sticks coated in warm milkshakes. I found the
'surface' by going opposite of what seemed to be 'gravity' and looked down.
At first, all I saw was red and soft white, like
strawberry swirl ice cream. With a sudden gut wrenching realization the
picture became clear. Severed fingers stretched as far as I could
fathom, and my fathoming is far greater in dreams than in reality. I
felt fingers between my fingers, stuck in my hair with clotted blood, and
other more gruesome places. I managed to slither my way to the top of
the heap, scraping my face raw trying to get blood and gore off, gouging at my
body, scraping off who knows what from I cannot say where without retching on
the keyboard.
For some reason, in disgust and *literally* morbid
curiosity, I looked around to see if it was anything but fingers. It seemed
not. Not even thumbs. In fact, not even pinkies from what I could determine in
my strangely studious state at the moment. The whole mass seemed to be
comprised of index fingers, middle fingers, and ring fingers.
I furrowed my brow amid this flesh-bone-crimson
sea and wondered what I will do with the rest of my existence. Then, the alarm
went off. God, I have never been so thankful to go to work that I can
ever remember.
millie
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