Nov the Thirteenth – Untitled Bigfoot Project (164/224)

Nov the Thirteenth

It’s very rare that I do this – in fact, I don’t think you specifically have ever been exposed to this kind of writing, Journal – but I want to scrawl about a dream I had.

Tori stayed overnight last night, not for the first time (sorry Journal, don’t take it to heart; it’s like I said, a lot of stuff happens in real life that doesn’t make it to your pages), and we didn’t get much sleep. Maybe, like… two hours. Maybe three. She woke me up when she had to go to work so I could kiss her goodbye (remember the time I said that women have two pairs of lips? LOL) and I went right back to bed after she was gone. That’s when I had the dream.

It was a really weird experience, total “Inception” nested dream kind of thing. First I was in this ashen wasteland; I was all alone, everything was gray and covered in ashes. The air was silent and acrid, it was really kind of horrifying. In my head I knew that there was nobody else alive in the world, it was me and only me, and I was trying to get home. I didn’t know what would be waiting for me when I got there, but I knew I had to get home and I knew there was a shortcut through the woods. The thing was, the woods was covered in ashes, too. It seemed like the whole world had burned, the trees were pillars of black charcoal underneath all the ashes. So I’m going through this forest, right, and I suddenly stop walking. It was one of those dreams where I wasn’t really in control of my actions; like, it was extremely vivid, I didn’t realize I was dreaming when it was going on, but it wasn’t a lucid dream. My movements were mindless.

So I suddenly stop walking, then turn back and start running. The ash was falling out of the trees, something must have knocked it down somehow, it was like an avalanche of ash. An ashvalanche, if you can dig it, ladies’n’germs. So I’m running from the ashvalanche, running back to the treeline and I’m almost there, I’m just about to jump and dive back into the road when the ashes hit me. They swallowed me right at the last second, Journal, and everything went really gray, then everything went really black.

Then I saw a light in the shape of a keyhole above me, as if it was on top of a flight of stairs. As I’m approaching it it seems to get farther and farther away, and I notice that I’m not climbing a straight stairwell but a spiral staircase; finally the light stops moving. I reach for it and my hand automatically wraps around a doorknob above it. Open the door, and who else but Iuqon the Mage and Ram’rl the Unfallen are waiting for me. We were in the top room of Jericho Tower, Journal, and I looked out one of the windows and saw a gigantic mass of darkness encroaching over the field of white flowers like a tsunami of oil heading for a beach. It was the Rotting Ents. The Triad was gathered in the top room of Jericho Tower moments before the battle that would take Iuqon’s and Ram’rl’s life. We talked for a moment, and their voices sounded like Carl’s and Keaton’s rather than Iuqon’s and Ram’rl’s, and they didn’t have me make a promise or take an oath like I wrote in The Face of Fear, they just told me that they loved me and hoped to see me again soon. Then, they advanced towards me, both wielding their weapons like they meant to harm me, so I backed up until my back was against the wall. Iuqon waved his staff and a veil of light came off it and coated me, then Ram’rl swung his mighty sledge directly into my chest. The last thing I saw was the cloudless blue sky of The Hillside Commons with a bunch of black shards of ghostwood falling down on top of me.

Then, it was dark, but not for a long time. I opened my eyes and I was in the woods. Not in the endless wood of The Hillside Commons (god I love how that sounds) but in the woods around Sawblade Lane. I was laying in my hammock and I had my white lighter and The Peace Piece with me, the latter, of course, with a half-torched bowl. I think it was the Dark Tower day, but I can’t be sure; I was really, really tired in the dream, so I took a big hit of weed (I remember getting high in the dream, it was the weirdest thing) and then closed my eyes.

When I opened them I was sitting lotus on a rock, on the crown rock of the twin waterfalls that feed the Ouroboros River in my book. I remember feeling content, feeling happy. Zen, in a word. I looked out at the burnwood forest, saw a glimmering white speck in the middle where the cabin in the clearing was (although the chimney of the cabin was gray rocks, not white, but it was just a dream so whatever), and took a deep breath of that clean The Hillside Commons air. I guess I was meditating, and I had no plans to stop; I closed my eyes again, and the next time I opened them was when I finally woke up. Like, in real life.

Weird-ass dream, Journal. Usually my dreams are odd, but this one really stood out to me. Not sure why. Anyway, so I got out of bed, smelled the sheets, reveled in the scent of Tori and all the fun we had last night, then went to take a leak. Stubbed my toe on the way out of my room, though, and that bothered me at first, but then I looked down. Then it didn’t bother me at all.

The books got delivered today, Journal. three days ahead of schedule. It’s about two o’clock in the afternoon right now, Tori has an hour left of work before she has to skedaddle home so her folks can drag her upstate, and I don’t plan on waiting for next week to give her her copy of my first book.

So yeah, I’m’a do that.

…                                     …                                    …

Actually, there was something else. I wanted to write one more thing, I had it in my head before I decided to start in with the dream… shit, what was it?

Whatever, I can’t remember. Couldn’t have been that important. Maybe it’ll come to me later or tomorrow or something. Or mayhap it won’t. Regardless, until next time…

Say thankya, Journal. ‘Preciate ya, as always. Long days and pleasant nights~

…                                     …                                    …

Oh, right: who brought the box of books into my house?


This has been the last journal entry from Untitled Bigfoot Project. Here is everything you need to know about it:

Untitled Bigfoot Project

I’ve written a few other books, too. Click here to see the list.

The Hillside Commons has a Facebook page. Here’s that.

If you’re there, hypothetical reader, thank you for being there. From this day on, we move forever forward~

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