Monday, March 31, 2008

Faerytale Castle

Before me lay the ruins of an old castle. The stones from which it is made of are yellow with age and stain and decay. It is enshrouded in rich, lush, wild, overgrown flowery foliage, giving it the air of a whimsical, secret, faerie garden. You can tell the air is sweet with the scent of flowers and the rot of the undergrowth, as within a hidden forest. Inside the castle, the ceilings are vaulted onto giant pillars except in the place where the roof has caved in, creating a natural skylight through which the scent of the garden outside can waft, and beneath which is rubble on the roof.

It is too dark inside to see the walls in any great detail. The only light comes from the sky light, and due to the flora creating a canopy over and about the castle, even this light is dim and pale, enough to highlight the rubble directly beneath it which it falls on, and no more. I cannot tell from what the floor is made, but I assume it is marble or something equally befitting for the kind of decadent castle only to be found now in a child’s tale. There is a stairway to the right, leading outside and upwards onto an elevated courtyard. The stone here is also yellow from age and rot, and the cobble-stoned ground is covered with fallen leaves and flower petals and the dappled sunlight breaking through the leaves. It’s a very beautiful place, lined with low, decorative walls on which to sit. It belongs to the Golden Age, and it is enshrouded with mystery and presence. To the right of the courtyard there is a high wall with a small brown door cut into it. I do not know where it leads.

There is a couple. They are not young or beautiful or very describable really, but I later find out that the ruins belong to them, and that they bought and preserved them as they lay, only adding a modest section for living in, which is the high wall with the door, which is in the same stained yellow stone as the rest of the castle. This explain why it isn’t rotted or decayed as the stone is of the rest of the castle.

The couple wants my help in choosing a colour to complete the mottled stains of the courtyard cobble stones and the grounds inside the castle beneath it. There are thinking of a darker complementary colour like auburn, but when I suggest white it blends perfectly with the yellow stones of the walls. They are very happy with my choice, but if I had to say the thought out loud, I would say that they were my dream maker in disguise, who needed my aid in completing a dreamscape that was meant for me.

By the Wind

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Saturday, March 29, 2008

Demon Kiss

There is a little girl. She has pale skin and fine features, large dark eyes, purple or brown or black, they are too dark to discern, and shimmering. She has ebony hair with sparkling highlights. She is dressed in a modest French maid’s uniform.

Suddenly a demon, with the physical form of a lean, muscled, fertility god, shoves her up against a wall, and proceeds to ravish her mouth with a deep kiss.
When I first see the girl, I am filled with a sense that she is me, but then when the demon kisses her, I am filled with a sense that I am it. Just before I awake, I am filled with a sense that I am them both, and that the demon is none other than my shadow self.

The Power of Promise

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Friday, March 28, 2008

Two Worlds

There are two worlds. They are paralleled, like Narnia and Earth or Earth and the world of Alchemy. They both have similarities, but differences as well, magickal ones. In the first world, the land is like a map. This is how it appears. You are walking on a map of land rather than land itself. There is a place on the map, small compared to the body of land on which it resides and which is surrounded by water. It is one large body of land surrounded by water on a map which you travel across.

As winter comes and animals migrate south for warmth on Earth, fire comes and with it the inhabitants of that small place on the map, migrate to the top of the large body of land to a place which is cooler. The place which they have left is also cool, but not for long, for when the fire comes, all is burnt to a crisp, charred and scarred until the cool returns. Not everyone makes it to the other side where the cool now resides. The rest of the land but for these two places and the shift in the elements therein is unknown. I believe it is the land of elementals.

The inhabitants find their way to Earth, through a doorway of some kind. But there are always differences, for instead of muggles travelling to a land of magick, elementals were travelling to the land of the physical plane. When they come here they are in the same form - humanoid - and though in the dream we appear human, I believe they saw us differently and were mildly surprised and curious about this plane, though they wanted to return to their own realm.

On Earth they show a few people their true magick, and I am unsure whether I was one of them and watching myself, or if I was just observing it happen with my mind’s eye. However, they turned to me and acknowledged me while showing others, thus including me, even though I could not see myself. They told us of where they were from, and we tried to get them back home, because we wanted to go with them, for we were earthen mages.

Part 2: The next day we went to a parade. It was like a gypsy carnival of fools, but the actors were locals, people from my past, people I didn’t know, people I know now, people that felt very familiar to me. Perhaps I will know them in the future. It was like in Primary School, or Kadooment Day, different houses or classes or bands, mostly yellow and blue. We were in blue, because our elemental brethren were those of water. I believe the yellow band was meant to represent air, for they were on a hill, with us there below them, closer to the earth. Everything was alright, good truly. There were decadent foods and deserts on sale. I bought a slice of cake and a drink for $180. Then there was a concert.

This is the transition. One girl wanted help to make a certain recipe that I know. Her friend wanted to be the one to “tell her”, thought her friend didn’t know the recipe, but really just wanted to sing a duet with her on stage.

They did their duet, but it soon got told to the Yellow Band, that someone in the Blue band [me] had a problem with the duet, because the girl still didn’t know the recipe she wanted. Dissent breaks out. The Yellow Band descend upon us, and the Blue Band scatters.

We remain on the sidelines of the road until they go back up the hill, and I believe the sidelines maybe some kind of protective barrier. Then a pop corn and ice cream machine appears in the midst of us. It is in the road from where we scattered. The smell of the popcorn is sexy, all fresh and buttery goodness.

The owner of the cart/machine is dressed as a bee. There is the essence of familiarity to her. We all bore to the popcorn cart and buy popcorn and ice cream and the Yellow Band descend on us once more. It was a trap. Everyone scatters again. The elementals were hurtled back to their world through a portal, then back to ours again in a matter of seconds. It is revealed that the bee girl is from their world, and has an accomplice who is also dressed as a bee.

Through the portal which had appeared in the air, we can see their map world, and the fire consuming the place where they dwelt that was once cool on the body of land, and where their families migrated to the top of that large body. The rest of the country is still unknown, but looks like it was once burnt as well. We think the burning is cyclical. The fire follows the migration of the elementals.

The portal remains open. A few of us, the few that knew of the magickal world of the elementals, go through the portal to their country.

What You Think On Grows

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Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Spirit Guide

I am on the beach with a boy named Remi, at the place where Brandon and Brighton meets. The slope leading to the highway is directly before of us, and we are standing on a small niche of earth between that slope and a tree which is directly behind us. On the ground in front of us, at the bottom of the slope, in the niche where we stand is a little altar or memorial, comprised of shells of different kinds, and I know intuitively that this display is not man-made, for it is a dwelling place of faeries, where the shells are their home.

The boy named Remi crouches down and begins to rearrange the shells. I knew it would upset the residents of those shells, but he does it anyway, and then he leaves for work.

Suddenly behind me appears, a large, pale being dressed like an Arabian genie, with bright blue crystal eyes, the pupils of which are ebony black and slitted like the eyes of a cat. His ears are pointed like a goblin’s, and the rest of his features despite his rotund form are sharp. His arms are huge and spread eagled with no discernible fingers at the ends, and the rest of his body is pretty much the same. He is bobbing up and down like a balloon at a fair, and I am not afraid of him, for I know he is my spirit guide.

Suddenly we are inside the shells themselves. Somehow our forms have contracted and we are as tiny as the People who dwell therein. Inside the shells are dark, with a dim red glow, like a museum at night. Between me and my guide, whose name I never learn, and my mind’s eye, there are glass cases behind which are faerie artifacts and whole worlds within the world of the faerie shell dwellings. Worlds within worlds, like those Russian dolls. First I was in our world, then in the smaller world of the faerie shell dwellings within our world, now seeing littler worlds than even that within it. I wonder how much smaller can I get, and how many worlds exist that are both larger and littler than my own.

Suddenly the boy named Remi joins me and my guide, on my tour of the worlds within worlds, within the faerie shell dwellings within the world of our own.

The Dawn

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Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Dying City

Prologue: I am in a cave with a boy named Fred, a cave divided into small rooms like a house. Some of his friends are there in one room. I however am alone with him. I feel the angst of the old days, the love, the weakness. He feels love for me as well, he feels desire and he too is weak. We make love emotionally, psychically, for we never touch.

I am in a city. Broken and rat-ruled. Everyone must leave, even the rodents, for the city is dying. There are not enough ships for the people, there is not enough space in the water for the rats to set sail their homes. Some must stay behind. Rats, people, some lives must end.

I wander the streets looking for a quick way out of this death zone. I put together a small gang, consisting of my self [as a guy], two other guys and a cute girl. We go to steal a ship and run into another gang with the same idea.

Working together, me and their leader, a guy with the spiritual essence of the boy named Fred, manage to secure a ship for both our people.

We leave but the guy double-crosses me [maybe we double-cross him first, or he thinks we did. We might have stolen something which belongs to him, while the people and the rats were trying to escape].

We have to abandon ship in order to hide from him, because at this moment he is more powerful than I am. We run to an abandoned building, we run in the opposite direction of those who want to escape, who want to live, who want freedom.

We hide out in the bathrooms of that building, hoping the ship and the girl we left behind would be alright and still there if we survive. He comes. He attacks. It seems he is only after me. I am wounded with a shot, while my other two guys remain unharmed.

They leave and much relieved, I don’t ask why, but make my way back to my ship. In all the panic and chaos it has not been discovered, and neither has our girl. Many people and rats have to stay behind. Some are still trying to leave. But most have gone and the city is almost empty.

We take off into the day, for most of this dream was cast in the darkness. As we soar we spot the other ship. He lands on us, and attaching himself to us, he drags us down into the ocean. All seems lost. Our ship is sinking and cannot fly.

Then suddenly we are in their ship, and they are in ours falling to the bottom of the ocean. Their leader is with us. He apologises for before. He had to make it look like he wanted to kill us, so that he could kill his own gang. He couldn’t leave them if he didn’t, and he had to leave.

Taking our girl into the back of the ship, I get a panoramic visual of exactly why, and all is clear, and all is safe. Their physical union mirrors the love between me and the boy named Fred in the prologue and I now understand why the gang leader has the spiritual essence of that boy.

We land ship and part ways at our respective ground vehicles. He takes away our girl, but I bear him no grudge, as I wish them nothing but the best. Me and the guys are on our own now, driving towards whatever adventures will next come our way.

Firefly Rising

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Wolf

There is a wolf. He is stalking me in the midst of others. I am running. I am being chased by the wolf. I can’t stop or even slow down. I am running from the wolf down a highway. He is always in the back of my mind’s eye’s peripheral vision, ready to pounce. His eyes are red, his fur is blue, black and grey, and his breath smells of garlic. We are nearing my home. Just before I get to my home, I turn and face the wolf. We confront each other at last. The wolf is pulsing with malice, hate and evil intent. The wolf approaches me, and as he does, all negativity fades. I morph into a she-wolf. We romp and play and mate beneath the full moon. He is now my home, and I am his.

Alternative ending

I run home. I lock all the doors and windows. But there is always one that doesn’t close fully, there is always one that there is not enough time to close. There is always one entrance that feels insecure. The wolf comes. I hide under the bed waiting for him to find his way in through the insecurities, through the windows that were not closed or fully shut. He is inside the house. He is looking for me to kill me. He finds me and pounces and I awake, usually feeling panicked, paranoid and very afraid.