Dark Dreams

     Having mainly dreamed pleasantly since childhood (which was plagued with fear), I have had two nightmares for two nights. The first is barely remembered now, save for the recollection of an imprint of a green spider, it's body bulbous on my index finger, the body turning out to be a black hole into my finger, from which a green branch suddenly grew out. I remember finally breaking the twig before tiny spiders started to pour out of the hole, jolting me into waking.
     Last night was more intense. I was back in my home town of Scarborough, and I was aware that there were no laws anymore. Canis canem edit. Everyone was entirely motivated by pure self-interest. There were no controlling forces except the strength of will, and the people around me smiled knowing evil smirks, the expression of those who take delight in suffering for it's own sake.    
     A good friend of mine was at the park near the bottom of Plantation Hill, it was practically pitch black save for a few phosphorescent bulbs that steamed up our breath. He was wearing a bandanna around his mouth like an old-time cowboy, though he held an electric drill in his hand.
     A series of still images then: His eyes squinting black against the night, focused on drilling into a forehead of some helpless stray, a long-distance shot of him shouting out for me (I think I had ran away in terror from the lunacy) while I watched from a hidden vantage point. He wasn't trying to kill me, only thinking it funny, and wanting to share the experience.
     Things are a little more confusing as I try to recollect, the scene had suddenly jumped to a room in an unknown house on a street where I used to walk to school, small yet homely and I was sat with five or so people, strangers, and I somehow knew they were all killers even though they were talking in a friendly manner around a table.
     Every time my eyes locked with theirs I picked up their murderous intent directed at one of the party. They were all aware I knew of their intent, and also aware that despite the capability I had no desires myself, seemingly powerless to do naught but watch. Perhaps that is why they revealed themselves to me, a safe venting point. I think I was trying to talk to them about why they wanted this, I remember a man in his fifties glancing down and away from me, smiling a crooked grin.
     The dreams worry me not necessarily because of their content (though I did awake several times throughout the night; probably due to sleeping outside a garage; my limbs constricted by my bespoke sleeping arrangements) but because I was aware somehow remotely, and considering the implications. The implications you see, they are the things that cause terror. My mind may be spiralling, though I feel the natural conclusion of lack of cooperation and Self above Others is, for want of a better word, psychopathy - an inability to consider the feelings of others.
     I was awoken about half seven this morning by someone driving out of their block of flats. I stood up and pressed myself against the wall, waving the woman forward. She reversed her car having seen me, and the shutter closed again. There was more than enough room for her to get past me and my belongings, I can only assume the sight of me was repellent.  Most of my essence still in slumber, I managed to pick up everything and stumble out into the daylight. Her red car passed by me a few seconds later, her face turned as far to the right and away from me as she could manage as she drove to her daily work.
     My bag is ripped at both ends, my possessions ready to spill at a moment's notice, though through some creative knot tying I have managed to keep it together for now. I walked to a nearby shopping precinct, and write after ordering a coffee. The barista puts out a tray of broken croissants and pain-au-chocolats, fresh from the oven, and I devour half of them, thankful for small blessings. I'm tired though. Not so much physically, that can easily be remedied. The fatigue is not strictly mental either, as one would be after trying to solve a complex mathematical problem, or reason out some logical enigma, more a spiritual tiredness. My world is getting darker, and my isolation more complete, despite the cold electronic replacements we have embraced. I try to think back to the time I have last touched someone for more than a second, and the realisation hits me like a thunderclap to the brain, and it takes all my self-control not to collapse at the table where I write.
     I think I'm going to wander on now.


10:17, 15th May, Barcelona, Spain