Nightmares last night...
A few years ago, dream and nightmare were synominous to me.
I'd go to sleep, and shut my eyes, and almost without exception soemthing horrible would happen...
If it was a bad one, and I awoke at any point , there was no fucking way that I was going back to sleep. The lost hours of sleep were generally a fair trade to avoid winding up in the same dream again.
I remember a dream where I had to clean an apartment before I needed to move out. I only had minutes before the cops came to evict me.
Behind every dresser or desk or under any sofa were piles of used hypodermic needles.
I had to get rid of em before I was kicked out, and I'd scoop them out by the armload -needles piercing into me- and dump them in a plastic bag where they would poke through the edges and jab into my legs...
Armload after armload...
dirty needle after dirty needle...
that was a reoccuring nightmare... night after night...
I remember another where I dreamed that a bunch of cops were beating me to a pulp with their batons.
Once I was limp and helpless to resist, one of them searched around the ally and returned with a tin can that he had found.
One end of the can was sheared off leaving a jagged serrated razor-sharp edge.
The rest of the cops held me down while he placed the sharp end of the cilindar to my face and procedded to hammer it into my cheek and sinuses with his baton.
But the worst dreams of all, had nothing to do with mosters hurting or chasing me, or anxiaty-dreams about infected needles. In the very worst dreams, I would be the cop disfiguring a victom with a baton and a tin can.
The very worst nightmares were when I was the monster...
I can't even think about those dreqms without my gut getting cold... that shit haunts me... I've only ever told one person the worst of those dreams... never even told my shrink... it still makes my fuckin brain wilt and squirm to even think about em...
....
A few years ago, dream and nightmare were synominous to me.
I'd go to sleep, and shut my eyes, and almost without exception soemthing horrible would happen...
If it was a bad one, and I awoke at any point , there was no fucking way that I was going back to sleep. The lost hours of sleep were generally a fair trade to avoid winding up in the same dream again.
I remember a dream where I had to clean an apartment before I needed to move out. I only had minutes before the cops came to evict me.
Behind every dresser or desk or under any sofa were piles of used hypodermic needles.
I had to get rid of em before I was kicked out, and I'd scoop them out by the armload -needles piercing into me- and dump them in a plastic bag where they would poke through the edges and jab into my legs...
Armload after armload...
dirty needle after dirty needle...
that was a reoccuring nightmare... night after night...
I remember another where I dreamed that a bunch of cops were beating me to a pulp with their batons.
Once I was limp and helpless to resist, one of them searched around the ally and returned with a tin can that he had found.
One end of the can was sheared off leaving a jagged serrated razor-sharp edge.
The rest of the cops held me down while he placed the sharp end of the cilindar to my face and procedded to hammer it into my cheek and sinuses with his baton.
But the worst dreams of all, had nothing to do with mosters hurting or chasing me, or anxiaty-dreams about infected needles. In the very worst dreams, I would be the cop disfiguring a victom with a baton and a tin can.
The very worst nightmares were when I was the monster...
I can't even think about those dreqms without my gut getting cold... that shit haunts me... I've only ever told one person the worst of those dreams... never even told my shrink... it still makes my fuckin brain wilt and squirm to even think about em...
....