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I was going on a journey; to where I don’t know, and found myself at the airport. Just before I presented myself to the check-in desk I felt an annoying lump on the bridge my nose; slightly to the left hand side... like a plook. So I trudged off to the nearest mirror for a look, and discovered the shocking truth. This was no pimple, zit, spot or suppuration of pus that had grown like a mountain to the surface of my skin. Nor was this a teenage bout of acne waiting to be compressed between my pinched thumb and forefinger, exuding a lava that resembled the contents of a squeezy bottle of mustard. But what was it? I had to look closer..... A miniature flower had taken root and bloomed through the surface of my earthly pore. Like a daisy gently bristling in a grassy meddow, the pollen scented aroma of summer surrounded by silken petals bloomed in colour and vibrancy. I began to pick off the petals one by one only to find hidden under each an angry wasp buzzing with rage and torment, including the Queen who sat under the petal at the top of the flower pointing north at 12 o’clock. For fear of being stung I couldn’t touch anymore and had to leave any future ‘weeding’ until after my flight. As my flight landed I found myself in Windsor and a new job. I was working for another Queen, this time Elisabeth I of Scotland and II of England. My job was to help with the smooth running of the upcoming Royal Wedding of Harry and Meghan. The job didn’t last and I soon found myself unemployed. Handing back in my Royal page-boy type uniform, consisting of plus fours, white tights, buckled shoes and a thrilly laced shirt, I returned to Mexico. Dejected, starving and struggling for cash I decided, upon advice from a friend, to become self-employed and was soon earning a pittance gift wrapping souvenirs purchased by tourists for their loved ones at home. It wasn’t enough though and my meagre earnings barely stretched to buying a plate of taco soup, rice and beans. But In a weird twist of fate my dream morphed into a strange success story – like the American dream I tweaked my business and moved it lock, stock and two smoking barrels to a gay nightclub. I was now offering a naked gift wrapping service and was rolling in the money.
2018-03-29 13:32:50
Dream Session November 8th 2017 Reversed order of a session with James? This one will be a hard one to write, but I will do my best to organize. First Section: I was soaked or have been. My thoughts focusing on maybe perhaps I had fallen into Toluca Lake? It was uncertain. James telling me I needed rest. Second Section: I woke kidnapped. Tied up. I could see a man, unknown to me. What was he? I pieced together he was an enemy of sorts. He had been "tough". Taunting James; whom was tied up himself. Locked away in a shed near where I was laying. The man had grabbed me. James yelling something at him only to get the response: "Mr. Sunderland. Oh Mr. Sunderland. You will soon see I am not after you." James had continued screaming through anger. The man whom had me as a hostage peered inside the shed James was locked in, staring at James between the wooden planks. His laughing. I could feel not only my skin crawl, but James' as well. This distorted man whom James directed his anger to: Who was he? A Cultist of Silent Hill? What did I do to ***** off someone like that? From clear indication. This guy didn't want to keep me alive. James was struggling to escape his position. Tied and handcuffed. He seemed to be thinking more clearly than myself. How badly was I beaten? Third Section: We're at Jack's Inn. Time lapse? We escaped? Was it all a dream? Confusion and disoriented. I found James sitting at the small desk writing down, perhaps recent series of events. It seemed like he was in his own thoughts. "You all right?" James breaking away from his writing, realizing I was conscious. Was it really all a nightmare? "You should rest." We were safe. So what's the deal? If what I experienced wasn't a nightmare? Did I almost drown? Was I almost murdered? "Crash" isn't saying anything. Should I be worried? I should observe Crash's face. That would have given me a more solid answer. What about our wrists? I could have examined his wrists or even mine. Markings. Anything. If any of this infact was true. That means James and I aren't alone in Silent Hill. If this is infact true: We aren't safe in Silent Hill. James. The dream/metaphysical experience I had while trying to process all this has been beyond my own comprehension. Whoever that man was whom perhaps used either of us as bait; it's unclear as of right now. What his motives were. It's a troubling thought either of us were being hunted. Regardless. Thank you. As I was being drown by that monster. I couldn't process my thoughts and yet even still I am in awe. I should out right say what's on my mind. Thank you for saving me. I couldn't fight back. Yet as you freed yourself; your immediate goal was to save me without a second thought. I don't know what else to say at this moment.
2017-11-13 03:27:18


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