Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Calm

Some things in life are bad
They can really make you mad
Other things just make you swear and curse.
When you're chewing on life's gristle
Don't grumble, give a whistle
And this'll help things turn out for the best...


And...always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the light side of life...


Been listening to that clip on repeat for the last twenty-four hours. I wish I could whistle like that...

I'm really sorry about the other day. Marie found me at the computer, just staring at the screen and crying after I woke up that morning. I'd been working on painting late, as usual, and fell asleep at my table.

I dreamed. I usually don't dream, or if I do, I certainly don't remember the dreams. In this one, I was wandering through the park nearby, looking up at the trees. Alone... As I walked, the trees grew longer and thinner, the color fading out of them as I followed the boardwalked path. The sky grew dimmer, shifting from blue to twilight, and them shading though wine to a deep, unsettling red. I knew I shouldn't be there. I know I shouldn't be there. Something was calling to me, though. Unlike in life, there were no branches off of the boardwalk, just a single path, leading to the base of one tree, larger than the others. I stopped some distance off, and the tree seemed to shift, the branches moving, ending in hands, arching slowly toward me, teasing. A few patches of the tree's trunk grew lighter as  it  reached for me. At that point, I turned and ran.  For some time, I seemed to gain no distance from the... figure, the boardwalk becoming streaked with red beneath me. The tree was becoming something, some creature. It was alive, branches writhing as no wood had any right to. The form was familiar, but I didn't stay to watch the completion of the transformation. If the fact that my dream-self ran makes me a coward, then I'm a coward. At the moment, the more applicable term seems to be "smart".

The forest was completely silent around me as I ran, devoid of life as I finally moved away from the tree after long minutes of struggling that seemed to last at least an hour, if not more. I stuck to the path, knowing almost instinctively that straying would lead only to despair or worse. I ran and ran, my chest pounding and my lungs screaming in protest for air as my legs threatened to collapse beneath me. I stumbled, and as I did so, I heard a low chuckle, echoed by another, strangled-sounding one from a different direction. There was a rustling in the underbrush as I tried to catch my balance, and I saw two small figures with bloodstained clothes disappearing into the trees, the girl glancing back at me with dead, empty eyes. before they simply vanished into the black trees. The red was so vital, so vivid, as though fresh, the only color in the whole dream... Nightmare.

The sounds were like gunshots in the silence, even as quiet as they were. That's the last thing I remember before waking up at the computer with a screen full of typed words,  feeling as though I'd run for miles, blood under my nails and scratches on my face. The doctor said the scratches were self-inflicted, and at the moment, I'm tempted to believe her. Marie is watching me now. She blames herself already... And she probably should.

I've tried to delete the last post, but it just keeps coming back, so I'll leave it be for now. I've decided blogspot hates me, anyway. Somehow some of the blogs I was simply reading for research purposes have ended up on my follow list as well. I'm not even going to bother trying to fiddle with them for the moment. So, my current explanation for my weirdness is that I had an anxiety attack from a very vivid, oddly terrifying dream of something that now vaguely reminds me of what might happen if Cthulhu had a lovebaby with an ent, but I'm fine. Really, I'll be fine. I'm just learning for sure that this is not a game on any level.

For life is quite absurd
And death's the final word
You must always face the curtain with a bow.
Forget about your sin - give the audience a grin
Enjoy it - it's your last chance anyhow.


So always look on the bright side of death
Just before you draw your terminal breath


Life's a piece of shit
When you look at it
Life's a laugh and death's a joke, it's true.
You'll see it's all a show
Keep 'em laughing as you go
Just remember that the last laugh is on you.

3 comments:

  1. That dream is messed up babe. Just messed. Be okay, and try to stay healthy. All kinds of health implied. Okay?

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  2. I'm fine, Tia.
    I'm always fine or on the road to fine. You know that by now.
    You know I hate for people to worry.

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  3. And yet you give me cause so often.

    ReplyDelete