Cheesus fucking Crisp

Posted: March 18, 2010 in Personal Life

… awful title, I know. For some reason I still feel bad about misusing holy names, even though I swear like a bloody sailor.

Anyhow, that’s my reaction to a nightmare I had 2 nights ago. I think.. I think there might seriously be something deeply, fundamentally wrong with me. D: I have gory, violent and perverted dreams all the time. By perverted, I don’t mean in a sexual way, but in a twisted and evil way. I remember my dreams pretty well, and I think that 70 % of my dreams are all bordering to being nightmares. I guess it’s worth noting that even though I’ve been murdered, shot and chased by psychos countless times in my dreams, the actual “dream experience” isn’t that bad. I still like dreaming a lot and usually there’s some pleasant scenes in my dreams that I actually look forward to when I got to bed. Flying. Riding unicorns. That stuff. Plus, there’s a strangely gratifying feeling when I actually manage to kill the guy who’s trying to kill me in my dreams. When I was younger, he always got away and my calls to the police never got through, but I guess practice makes perfect! 😀

With this in mind, I hope you can imagine how truly horrifying my dreams must be when I actually wake up terrified, like I did the night to Wednesday. In this dream, I was following some detectives. I can’t recall the events that led up to this, but I had arrived early at a scene where  a suspect was trying to get away. I was looking around for him when I noticed something on the roof of a big house. On the roof stood a man, ~50-60 years old, who looked a lot like a hobo or a drunk. Rotten teeth, freely growing beard, dirty clothes, a generally unhinged look about him. He was standing by a big chimney, trying to get rid of a body by shoving it down the chimney feet-first. Her body was too big though, and it got stuck. Her head and shoulders were poking out from the opening of the chimney. The man repeatedly tried to stuff her down by smashing her heads on the tiles and pushing her down. I couldn’t see her face because it was so messed up. Her scalp was torn off. Her entire head was covered in shiny red blood. The man kept banging her against the brick wall of the chimney repeatedly, even though she clearly didn’t fit. In his insanity he hadn’t even made sure she was properly dead; I could see her arms flailing slightly, but she was so injured that she couldn’t fight him off or even make him notice she was alive. For some reason, I couldn’t do anything about it. I don’t always have a body in my dreams; a lot of the times, I dream that I’m someone else, or just an observer to something. Anyhow, there was a strong atmosphere of dread and I wanted to look away. The perspective changed and I was on a couch; it was late in the evening. The same scene took place on the TV. The same sense of dread and rising panic. I tried to cover my ears, because when I was a kid that’s what my sister did when she watched a horror movie,- if you watch them mute, they’re not as scary. This didn’t work though. I couldn’t look away and I couldn’t escape the noise of the woman’s head being beaten against the bricks. That’s when I woke up, luckily.Eek.

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