OoOozing with fluttery symbolism
Nov. 11th, 2002 01:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thedarksiren2I was going to rob a bank. Friends were along, pressuring me into it because I really had no desire to do it. But they wanted me to, and I was a sucker for peer pressure.
When we walked inside, it turned into a dimly lit restaurant with dark orange booths and dusty blinds on the windows that may once have been white, but were now definitely yellow.
I climbed into one of the booths, and began fiddling with the string that would bring the blinds down so that i could close them. I have no idea how this translated into my robbing the bank, but by closing the blinds I would somehow succeed.
My hands began to sweat as I worked on the string - those things never work for me. The blinds get lop-sided, and the string always twists and turns to frustrating knots. I had this in my mind as I struggled with them, and thus they were a mess.
My friends pushed at me, telling me to hurry up, come on, let's go!
I found myself anxious and worried, and making an even bigger mess the more distressed I became.
And then the alarms went off, and we all fell silent for a moment. The room hushed, and everyone rose to leave. I gathered myself and followed the crowd out the door, my friends all pissy with me for not getting the loot. I told them to go back and get it themselves.
Then there was the park, and people on bikes that you lay down into and peddle way out in front of you. I saw the sunshine and the greenest of trees; I wanted to enjoy it, but I had to get to work.
Then it hit me - I had called off from work the day before, and cameras, cameras had filmed my attempts, so the police were looking for me. I had no excuse for calling off, and couldn't even recall if i had called in at all. This caused a spiral of emotions in my body - no alibi, no reasons. I was fucked.
I ran to my friends who were all on their weird bicycles, peddling away and chattering like they had not a care in the world. I tried to tell them that I needed help, but they just wouldn't listen to me. I raised my voice, and they just laughed at each other's jokes and didn't even acknowledge I was there.
Just then I heard a strange noise from above. A large yellow butterfly with black stripes (not eyes, like most) that resembled lightning bolts was flapping its wings almost as if they were too heavy to carry. I could hear them swooping up and down, and it unnerved me. This was no small creature either - his wings spanned easily a good couple of feet across. I felt like a dying man in a desert, the butterfly a vulture waiting patiently.
I had to find answers, solutions to unasked questions. What should I/ could I do but ask for help?
But they still didn't hear me, and the greenest grass rolled into hills and distances, and the butterfly began to fall. I spread my arms, ready to block it from hitting my face, but outward into a T-formation, for whatever reason.
I could hear its decent, like Wile E. Coyote falling after chasing the Road Runner. It was a whistling sort of fall, and when his body hit my left arm, it made a thwoompf! The yellow covered my flesh, wrapped around it like paper-mache, and then it melted off into a gooey mess on the ground below me.
I was terrified at this point, and began running through the streets in a mad, irrational frenzy.
I wound up at a phone booth in a bad section of some inner city, maybe Chicago or Detroit, its walls covered in painful graffiti. The number on the other line rang three times before Mistress picked it up, and the rest just turned into a hazy blur. She didn't give me what I wanted, and I remember feeling more confused and distressed than before when the alarm went off.
When we walked inside, it turned into a dimly lit restaurant with dark orange booths and dusty blinds on the windows that may once have been white, but were now definitely yellow.
I climbed into one of the booths, and began fiddling with the string that would bring the blinds down so that i could close them. I have no idea how this translated into my robbing the bank, but by closing the blinds I would somehow succeed.
My hands began to sweat as I worked on the string - those things never work for me. The blinds get lop-sided, and the string always twists and turns to frustrating knots. I had this in my mind as I struggled with them, and thus they were a mess.
My friends pushed at me, telling me to hurry up, come on, let's go!
I found myself anxious and worried, and making an even bigger mess the more distressed I became.
And then the alarms went off, and we all fell silent for a moment. The room hushed, and everyone rose to leave. I gathered myself and followed the crowd out the door, my friends all pissy with me for not getting the loot. I told them to go back and get it themselves.
Then there was the park, and people on bikes that you lay down into and peddle way out in front of you. I saw the sunshine and the greenest of trees; I wanted to enjoy it, but I had to get to work.
Then it hit me - I had called off from work the day before, and cameras, cameras had filmed my attempts, so the police were looking for me. I had no excuse for calling off, and couldn't even recall if i had called in at all. This caused a spiral of emotions in my body - no alibi, no reasons. I was fucked.
I ran to my friends who were all on their weird bicycles, peddling away and chattering like they had not a care in the world. I tried to tell them that I needed help, but they just wouldn't listen to me. I raised my voice, and they just laughed at each other's jokes and didn't even acknowledge I was there.
Just then I heard a strange noise from above. A large yellow butterfly with black stripes (not eyes, like most) that resembled lightning bolts was flapping its wings almost as if they were too heavy to carry. I could hear them swooping up and down, and it unnerved me. This was no small creature either - his wings spanned easily a good couple of feet across. I felt like a dying man in a desert, the butterfly a vulture waiting patiently.
I had to find answers, solutions to unasked questions. What should I/ could I do but ask for help?
But they still didn't hear me, and the greenest grass rolled into hills and distances, and the butterfly began to fall. I spread my arms, ready to block it from hitting my face, but outward into a T-formation, for whatever reason.
I could hear its decent, like Wile E. Coyote falling after chasing the Road Runner. It was a whistling sort of fall, and when his body hit my left arm, it made a thwoompf! The yellow covered my flesh, wrapped around it like paper-mache, and then it melted off into a gooey mess on the ground below me.
I was terrified at this point, and began running through the streets in a mad, irrational frenzy.
I wound up at a phone booth in a bad section of some inner city, maybe Chicago or Detroit, its walls covered in painful graffiti. The number on the other line rang three times before Mistress picked it up, and the rest just turned into a hazy blur. She didn't give me what I wanted, and I remember feeling more confused and distressed than before when the alarm went off.
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no subject
Date: 2002-11-11 03:07 am (UTC)... at least I'm assuming it was a dream! Hope you've recovered from the discombobulation that undoubtedly ensued...
no subject
Date: 2002-11-11 06:16 am (UTC)'twas a dream.
and yes, I recovered just fine from it. Most of my dreams are supremely vivid and what others might think as nightmarish (http://www.livejournal.com/talkread.bml?journal=abstractions&itemid=18056), but to me they're just stories to share with the world. Hence the community I run,