Hello again, I’ll get right into the matter. Dreams have always meant something to me. Some take them for granted tossing them aside as though they don’t matter. Like they’re nothing, if that were slightly true the nothing wouldn’t have intrigued mankind since the “beginning”.
When the grandmother descends down the filthy steps a sense of gaining fear is more of a developing reverence because remember in the last entry I stated the stairs were levels and epochs. Every step is a vision for the old crone that is why there is a gain of reverence, seeing every epoch swept away watching the past turn to dust. It wasn’t until the last steps where the rays of the sun couldn’t reach she saw a pile of clothing and underneath is the corpse. The corpse could be seen as the end result of the epochs. When she jumps over it and steps on its shoulder it gave one last sound and vibration that echoed down the black hall. The reverberations on their final journey throughout dark matter(s).
Here in this moment there is fear and terror of the reality of absolute death. The sound of blood dripping she looks up and sees the dead girl with her legs chopped off very high and she is against the wall of lockers. Like the ones we’ve all used at school. Her hands are out stretched in gesture to the cross but there are no nails or anything seen that could explain why she’s pinned against the lockers. She slowly lifts her head, damp dark hair hangs over her uncaring face expressionless eyes scare the old crone down the black hall.
On the blood dripping on the floor I can see that as time, kind of like a count down of life. At this time the whole scene turns into a photograph in my hand and I’m in front of a class room of different raced men I put the photo into a clear sleeve along with many other photos with moving scenes. A man says I’m an adversary… I admit my beliefs are entirely heretical and in some areas extreme but nonetheless I will have to go into deeper thought on that. Until next time.
Categories: Angelo Vasquez