And ther she was
Two feet away
And an ocean apart.

It is Saturday still, but only barely, and we have Lord's Supper tommorow, and are picking up some Dutch fellow on the way to church, so it is up early, and to bed forthwith, I spose.

But, said I to my self, I said, "Self, you need to keep the old post-o-meter (TM) ticking over." To which came the inevitable reply, "Self," I said to my self, said I," You are so much more correct than you could ever know." "How", replied again I to myself, and again the reply came," Never you mind".

And so here i am.
joy.

HMm.
There is an inky blackness outside my window. I keep waking up at night wondering when it is going to eat me up. It is there, and eventually, it will, I am sure, so the question is a matter of timing rather than possibilities.
It just hangs there, black as black as black as a hole in space, deepening as the sun flees from our little city, on its perpetual flight from the night. I could go out, with a stick, and dispell such illusions with a few zealous swipes at the darkness. But it would just ooze back in again, the moment my back was turned, so I would be forced to walk backwards through the mist-filled night air, stick in hand, all the way to the back door once more, for safety's sake.

Such frivalities do not come without a price, one I am reluctant to pay. What, you may say, is this unnamed price. Suffice to say, I shall not pay it. That is all the information available to the public I'm afraid. I dont make the rules. So life shall go on, and I shall to, waking at night to the chill feeling of eyes in that murky blackness peering at me in my nice warm bed with ill intentions in mind.


On another topic completely, or not, I have decided, that no matter how many hours I sleep, I will still be a certain level of tired during the day, which is unfortunate, for I am deeply longing for the feeling of complete non-tiredness to enfold its caring arms around me once in a while. Adding to this, going to bed after 2:00 A M will always leave me with a day of uselessness, where there is an invisible block that prevents me having complete contact with the real world. It is interesting, if I do not try to understand the environment, all my sight and hearing and smell become this great mish-mash of nonsence, almost a movie in and of itself. In such a state I cannot work with any degree of efficiency or purpose.

Further things about sleeping, dreams. I have been thinking about this for a while, and I am curious, as to how often, and how many times people die in their dreams. Of late (ie- this year) the most times I have died in one dream is 4. It was quite a fantastic dream actually. And, if you care to waste a few minutes of your life, I would be honored to relate it to you:

The tale begins with me and an un-named, unidentifiable friend, we are both members of some unnamed and unidentified gang. There is a gang war going on. There are numerous gangs involved, and me and my friend are out and about with combat rifles shooting up other gang members. All goes well until my friend yells "Sniper!", pointing to a rooftop across the park. He dives for cover, and I attempt to follow. He makes it behind a park bench, but I am not so fortunate. A loud crack sounds, and I feel a bullet rip its way through my head, and my appendages go numb. I drop to the ground and stop breathing. Everything goes black. I died.

A short time later, I awake, pick up my gun and hide behind the park bench where my friend waits, having picked off the sniper himself. Slowly but surely, I gain full controll of my appendages again, and the pain caused by the hole in my head subsides, and just as well. Into the street behind us pours a number of uzi wielding other-gang maniacs, firing off randomly. We initially don't bother with cover, opening fire upon them, taking down one or two before they notice. My friend once again dives off to the side behind a building for cover, and once again I am too slow to follow him. Uzi bullets rip through me, as they all turn on me. I manage to take down three or four more before, once again, I succumb to the warm and dark embrace of death.

A short time later, I awake, and look around for my gun, but it is missing, and somehow I know that the uzi wielding gang members took it. The park now miraculously has a large chicken-mesh fence around it, which, for some reason, apeared to me to provide excellent cover (similar to a solid wall), and yet good vantage. My friend is nearby again, waiting for me, and we creep around the park perimeter till we come to the opposite corner. From there we leg it across the street, and down an alley way. In the street beyond, however, is a large number of German soldiers (presumably from the 'German-soldier' gang- WWII styles), marching along in a victory parade. They had won the gang war, and were celebrating joyously.

Making our way back to the park once more, we see a convoy of WWII tanks parading down the street, banners flapping in the breeze, resplendit with the resounding cheers of the hastily assembled crowd. And then it hits me. There is going to be an ambush. "Ambush" I cry, and duck for cover behind a nearby park bench. Weaponless and fearfull, I watch with dismay, as lazer weapon packing "Russians" Storm the parade out of myriad alleyways. What followed was a wholesale slaughter of the relatively unadvanced German forces. I looked about, preparing to flee, but as I got up to run, I felt a searing pain in the back of my head, as a lazer gun was targeted upon me. Instantly I was fried to a crisp, dropping to the ground in a dead heap.

Some time later I awoke, charred to a crisp, and moving with difficulty. Nearby, lay the charred corpse of a German gang-member, and grasped in his hands, was a nice assault rifle, which I promptly snaffled up. My friend was also again beside me, completely unscathed, and beckoning me to follow him. He ducked down a nearby alleyway, and I hobbled after him. As I crossed a street, I glanced to my right, and not one-hundred meters away, a small convoy of German tanks and infantry rolled down the street. They turned off into a side-street, and I thought "Oh, no! STupid Germans, that way is a trap!" Sure enough, shortly after, gun fire broke out, followed by several large explosion. The infantry came pouring out into the street, some firing back where they came from others just running for their lives. It was then that I noticed that the fighting was still audible elsewhere, but I knew that it was only a matter of time before the Germans lost.

Overwhelmed by a strange curiosity as to the exact nature of the demise of the German mini-convoy, I cautiously advanced to the side-street and peered round the corner. My vision was blocked by the charred hulks of destroyed tanks, so I was forced to advance a small way down the street for a good look. About 30 meters away from me, I spied a bunker, full of rocket laucher and flamethrower wielding maniacle Russian infantry. I turned to flee. but heard a Russian voice cry out in alarm, followed by the sound of rocket launching and flame throwing. Fortunately, I avoided the thrown flames. Unfortunately, a launched rocket struck me square in the back and I was thrown 20 meters in the explosion. I tried to get up, but couldn't feel my legs, and so was forced to lie on the ground in the middle of the street writhing about uselessly. That was, until the Russians had reloaded their launchers. The second barrage threw me tens of meters further, and blew me to ribbons, killing me before I landed.

A short time later, I awoke, lying in the street , cut to ribbons, and in all sorts of pain. The Russians were advancing, so I needed to duck away. Scrambling to my feet, I fled down a nearby alleyway, and headed randomly through the city until, by some fluke of chance, I met up with my nameless friend, who sat waiting for me at a street corner behind some stacked barrels and produce crates. It was then that I knew that the Russians had won, and were going house to house finding and executing other-gang-affiliated persons. We had to run, and run we did. We fled down the street and round a corner, straight back to the park again, which we sprinted across, and down another street, barely getting infront of the Russian searchers.

We had to hide, so we went from door to door, trying to open them. The first door that opened, we went through, knowing somehow, that the occupants were affiliated with the Russians, so their house would not be searched very thoroughly. Going through the dining room, where a bunch of Mafia style gangsters were having KFC and playing cards, we found a musty old girls toilets. Double bonus. We knew, that even if the Russians searched the house, they would not search the females toilets. As a precaution, however, we climbed up the walls, and hung on the ceiling rafters.

Sure enough, within a few seconds of finding our spot, there was a loud bang on the door to the house, followed by angry Russian voices. A large number of thumps, smashes, and scrapes ensued as the house was searched relatively quickly by the Russians. They did not even open the door to the lady's toilets.

Some time later, I noticed that my burns stopped hurting, and that my cuts had miraculously healed. I looked down at my status bar, and noticed I had gone back to full health. I also noticed that my gun had ) bullets left, so I reloaded. The statusbar dissappeared, and me and my friend swung down from the rafters and exited, once again passing through the living room filled with gun-wielding, card-playing, KFC-consuming Mafia gangsters. Outside, all was quiet, and a beautiful dusk was falling. I looked around for my friend, but he was nowhere to be seen. Obviously he had gone home, so, I decided, I had better also, as it was tea time, and I was hungry. Ducking and leaping from burned out tank-shell, to ransacked building husk, I safely made my way home. Opening the door, I sat down and could smell the scent of freshly baked bread coming from the kitchen. It was then that I awoke, feeling very hungry indeed.



Boy , that was longer than I thought. 1334 words to be exact. I am actually surprised I remember it so vividly still, as I dreamed it about 2 months ago. It is not the only dream where I have died multiple times, and risen from the dead either, just the one I remember best. I am just wondering if other people have the same occurance in their dreams also.

Speaking off which, the time has come for me to pass from this land for another 8.5 hours or so.
Far thee well on thy journeys
And a blessed night to all.