A Book Idea, Opinions Wanted

Ok, today after I had an intense almost nightmare dream I had an idea and I want your opinions on it.

I have very vivid dreams, always do, and try to keep a journal of the ones that I recall even if they are just scraps of what I had dreamed. I fell out of practice for a cople years but have a few dream journals that are from 98-01 or so. They were all very... well I was fourteen to seventeen then so you can imagine, but there were some good ones.

But anyway, to the idea. I still dream vividly, not every night as I used to but often enough. The way I write my dreams tends to have a lot of detail when I can recall it all, and I tend to write like a story, which helps that I like to in fact write fiction stories. It just comes naturally. So my idea is that I wonder if anyone would be remotely interested in a book of, well basically my dreams, those that sort of fall together or just a collection, like a collection of short stories, each would have a title like they used to when I wrote them in hat old legal pad that was my journal.

I want to share two short, well hopefully short examples from more recently, one was from about July 27th, and the other was from last night [8-7]. I'm going to copy-paste from the files directly so forgive the block of text to follow.

The first I am going to merely title "Hail", you'll see why. Enjoy.

The first dream.

This one was short and made little sense, I was in a wood floored place, white walls but that is about it as far as I can recall. There was a preacher of some sort among a gabble of people reading something. I was pointedly ignoring him, or trying to. It was uninteresting to me but then I noticed something that felt off. I thought it was strange that everyone was so rapt with attention for him, then I noticed the drawing feeling, and something more in his words when I really heard them. It was rythmic, and I felt more drawn to listen closely, but at the same found myself drawing back o the edge of the group, farther away from the spell he was weaving, intentionally or not.

Suddenly I bent over somewhat forward and in a burst of erergy and sound, literally erupting within me and out of me I cried out, loud and rather hoarse sounding, the words forcing themselves out of me with not an aunce of grace. "HAIL THE GODDES!" I stood up and said it again more clearly, stronger, letting it come this time. I stared directly at the man in the center of the group, and it was a mark to how woven everyone was in him that they barely reacted at all. The look on his face was venomous, evil, and oddly triumphant, as if drawing out the Goddess worshipper had been his goal. It was strange the effect my words had washing over people, it was more than just words, it was power, a power using me as the conduit, I felt clear headed again, whole, and I saw recognition on faces around me as if waking from sleep, somewhat confused but no longer zombie like. No one seemed to have an issue with this girl yelling "Hail the Goddes" over and over again, it was wierd and it was more a command than just a proclomation. Very strange but oddly cool too.

The dream above is rather, well in a way special to me, less story like, but I wanted to share it. This second dream I want to share with you as an example I'd like to just call "Humane Destruction"

I am not sure where I was, I don't even know if I was outide or in, I think indoors, in some unfinished house or something. The room was bare, wood floors, white walls, hole in the floor that led down some stairs to a basement. Apparently ontop of this fact I was also hurt, my stomach, but I didn't feel anything, shot I found out, but again, not bleeding or anything. Maybe it had been a high powered pellet gon for all I knew. I had two points, one in my left side just above the hip, the other was on the right, apparently neither had hit anything vital, but it hurt though I didn't feel it in the dream, but knew it did, like a terrible cramp or stomach ache.

I was imploring help from a man, he was reluctant, and after a while he acquiesced by going down below again. Two men came back with him. All of them seemed the mob sort, ruffians, one bigger man with an almost afro came before me, then the thinner man in jeans and a white cut off I had been speaking to came to my left side, and another just as unimpressive man was at his side. The one I spoke with said something that sounded somewhat guilty, saying they were going to help the pain, but it sounded regretful somehow.

At this point my sight decided to fail me, which may have been a good thing. I didn't see what the man before me had pulled from a hip pocket. I felt my arm raised and a q-tip soaked in something swab just under it near the pit, it was cold and made me shiver, but what I felt press on my forehead made me shiver more. If I had a sense of smell I would have known even more strongly that it was a pistol barrel, centered on my forehead. So close I would have smelled the metal, the gun oil, but the cool feeling, round and steady was enough. I was trembling.

I was pleading then, thinking there had to be some other way other than to, well to put it plainly, kill me. So that explained the regret I'd heard in the voice, and I think they were trying to do something to make it as painless as possible. I didn't feel any sting of a needle or anything, but I imagined it was the plan of it.

I don't think they had the chance though. The trigger was pulled, I felt more than heard it, a thunk, but no pain. It must have been silenced, and a small calibur, solid rather than hollow point. I stopped talking mid sentence, my body trembling still. The man i'd spoken with and the other each had a shoulder, keeping me upright. The man before me pulled the trigger twice more, the second one I felt, pain shot through my head, the third was worse, pressing the already placed bullets, the third I felt thunking against my skull in back of my head, inside, With that I felt my body slowly arch backward, they had released me after second shot, but before the third. The force arched my body, I'm sure it was faster than I experienced it though. it was grotesquely graceful, my head hadn't been thrown back so to speak, it arched on my neck and my back went with it, spince arching as legs folded slightly, my momentum straightening them out as I fell.

I was dead before I hit the floor, sprawled out. I also woke up before I had, heart pounding, breath short in panic, and an unsettling understanding that the phantom pain of the dream, an unpain, a reminder that there was pain but it was very distant, was only a tenth, a taste of the pain i felt for those few seconds. It was over fast, and didn't last, but I had felt it, blindingly, and in that slow time like it always seems to get in a hard spot, it was more than long enough.

The above is one of the less detailed, at least as far as who people are, what was happening, etc, but it was one I won't be forgetting for a long time. It just makes me thankful pain isn't really in dreams, not really, or I'd have had a lot of painful dreams thus far, especially that one where I was hit and killed by a truck and didn't wake up on impact...

One last note, I am thankful for the fact I still dream in full color and full sight, except as you can read above, last night's dream for some reason went blind on me, but again, probably for the best all things considered. I've even had a few dreams where I was practicing braille but I could see me doing it all, wierd stuff.

OK, I realize this is a lot to sort through and these aren't the most vivid examples but short ones I could wrangle up. I'm not sure anyone has made a book of dreams so to speak, but would you be interested in such a thing? I'm sure a psychologist would just love to pick apart my brain with it, hah.

Anyway, Love, Light and Blessings and thanks for the patience.

P.S. And in regard to the first dream, seems maybe a little anti-christian, perhaps, but actually I have no problems with the majority, it's the extreme ones in every grup. This one seemed a bit more like my desire to well shout from the rooftops my thoughts, Hail the Goddess and all. OK nuff said!