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I just had the craziest dream-

Okay okay, like, hear me out. I know, I’m prone to this shit, I get it, I do, really often I get fucked up dreams out of nowhere, it shouldn’t be a shoker for literally anyone in this chat. Hell, why should it be a shocker to me?

…But this time.
It was different.
The worst thing is that I’m not even sure why. Like yeah, you sometimes get really vivid dreams, things straight out of a legit acid trip, that look too real to be good or bad, it really depends.
But it’s just…I don’t know what’s with this one that made it stand out so much with me. How weird was it? Perhaps so.
But I won’t make you lose more time. I supposed I’m already boring you, trust me, I’d bore myself too if I were in your place, heh:

It all began when I woke up in a really dark place, unable to do anything but float. You know when you’re floating in a pool…No wait, shit, not that, you know when, uh, you’re inside a large body of water and you swim and swim and cannot get out? Or something like…Fuck, a deprivation chamber? Somewhere where you’re just surrounded by something? Yeah, better described, more or less like that. And my body…My body was my own, yes, but didn’t feel like it at the same time. Like, I really wanted to control it, move around, see what this is all about, but I just couldn’t, no matter how hard I tried, and that’s when I really started panicking. Fuck, what would you do if you wake up one day and you couldn’t move, feel your own body or even breathe? You’d be shitting bricks, don’t try to bullshit me and say you wouldn’t freak out
…Unless you’re- fuck, I don’t know, a cicada? And that’s part of, uh, your life cycle I guess, then more power to you, congratulations or sorry that happened.

Oh…where was I? Uh, oh yeah, me floating around the void, blissfully unaware of the amount of situations about to happen that’d give a therapist the fattest cheque of their lives if I ever decide to describe them in detail. Well this is where it gets funky.
You know the “let it be light” Christians use? Or well, any other religion ever I think, or the Big Bang if you aren’t a fan of those. Let’s say that happened. Too fucking fast as well, and goddamn, it hurt, like someone flashing a lamp at your face, but at least I could see what this weird place was, and I’m sorry, I need to use another comparison yet again because I have no fucking idea how to describe it otherwise. Sorry lads, I tried, but hey, I’ll use something literally everyone in here could relate: Do you know those plastic rulers you used in school? Yes, the green ones, you know the ones. And do you remember putting them above your eyes as sunglasses to see everything in green? Now imagine that, but instead of green it’s red. Like, this weird, yellow, orange-ish red? I swear it had a name, tangerine? Fuck if i know, just picture a bright orange-ish yellow red thing color all around you. With veins, yeah don’t forget those. Those giant, pulsating veins, branching out like a giant tree surrounding everything. Just me floating in a comfortable sea of a tangerine/clementine/orange/insert-any-weird-orange-fruit-you-wish-I-don’t-care color with veins.

And of course, like everything else in life, my…Let’s call it subconscious because it fits, yeah my subconscious decided to be a bitch and make that comfy ass void disappear just like nothing. Just when I thought I was having a pleasant time, that place began shrinking, more and more as the seconds passed, the colors of before turning dim again as I had less and less space to move. Weirdly enough, the more it shrunk, the more…Aware of my body I was, if you can say that and make perfect sense of it. It's like I was developing more and more as that hidey hole dissapeared.
Then I quite literally got vacuum sucked…Like these, hands or…I don't know, something that felt like hands came from literally nowhere like if it were their business and pulled me out of the tangerine realm.
The…Next thing I remember is another huge light flashing at my face, blurry silhouettes around me, and feeling colder than Satan's tits as my very own skeleton cracked like if that were the very first time I used it. I screamed and yelled for them to pretty much fuck off, to stop touching me and put me back.
And just like that I appeared in a different place. But sadly I was not back in the veiny orange paradise. It was outside, a gloomy and foggy day, I was even colder than before, my throat hurt like if I just swallowed an entire cactus and the smell of blood and antiseptics was changed to one of spoiled food. And fuck, it stank like if Death itself just took a shit there.
Now, beyond this part onwards onto the dream I could feel everything and move just fine at different degrees. My legs, my torse, my head…Oh right, except my right arm, that shit was numb all around the dream. It felt…I don’t know, too heavy and unproportionally big for me to move? It didn’t answer whatsoever to what I wanted to do unlike a, you know, well functioning arm would, I just knew it was there, but- Oh, yeah, anyways, Where was I? Silent Hill-esque day in Nowhere, Middle of, that smell of trash, being trapped in cardboard and cotton, bells tolling and me waving my body to get rid of whatever was wrapping me, trying to speak, cry, yell, whatever worked to ask what was going on.
And I legit have no idea about what I said, but it indeed did something so that’s all that matters. I saw another silhouette, a veiled woman this time, or what looked like a veiled woman. She turned around and I could hear…Gibberish, yeah that shit wasn’t a human language, but before I could ask yet again what the fuck was happening, this person lifted me in their arms
…Damn, they were really comfortable. I remember being waved, shushed and carried in soft arms, feeling less and less cold as I was carried away from that foul smelling place. My throat and head still hurt like hell but hey, I didn’t mind being lifted up, free taxi ride. The rest is way more blurred however as I suddenly reappeared in yet another different room. Yeah, much like in real life, everytime I try to sleep something goes wrong.

This time, I was in a bedroom, and oh, I remember quite well how it looked: it was a place I went when I was around eight, a ramshackled ass bedroom with almost all the furniture half eaten with termites. Of course you’d give the old bed with one leg too short and the smallest, coldest room of the fucking house to the- Nevermind.
It was night time, and I was laying on my stupid bed. No idea as to why I woke up until I stood up and saw this literal huge ass goat like shadowy demon staring at me. Right, that must’ve been the reason.
Oh yeah, remember when I said I was prone on having fucked up experiences during or before I slept? For example, this very own story? Apparitions out of the Goetica counted as one of those. Don’t worry, if I’m here telling you guys this then it must mean I’m fine. Trust. And let me tell ya, this fella right here I’m describing right now was a true bro. Well, I didn’t know that of course, but something in my…Dream, REM phase, whatever, something within me knew it was safe to approach.
And so I did. I got out of my bed, and with tiny footsteps and my right arm yet again feeling like a ball and chain being dragged, I approached Mr. Goat Man. And Mr. Goat Man looked at me (or that’s what I believed, fucker’s skull head had no eyes), and I looked back at Mr. Goat Man. “Hello Mr Goat Man!” I said, but he did not answer. Not much for a talker he was.
I remember trying again. “What is your name?” I said. Still nothing. Maybe he was alone, I supposed, so why not, I kept him company because I could. I went to get one of my pillows and sat my ass on the floor, and I talked with him for what seemed like hours. About…Stuff. Yeah. Stuff.
And then, he reached his hand to my suddenly wet cheeks. A hand black as coal and with nails like butcher’s hooks it was. But oh no, I was not scared of Mr. Goat Man, trust me he’s the only good one in what’s left of the story. I went on to grab it, noticing how my hand was way smaller than what it is now, but I didn’t care. And right when I held his huge hand as he really gently wiped my tears, the door slammed right open, and a woman screamed. Her yells fill the room, louder and louder, alerting all of the house. And that is when Mr. Goat Man was gone. I was alone again. So yeah, thank you for that, Karen.

Before I could launch myself at the bitch that spooked him away, there I was again in a different place. You know the drill for now: Something happens and I materialize somewhere else. Those middle aged, banshee-like woman’s screams sounded different now, like the rings of a bell. And surprise surprise, they were, as I was in my old school’s hallway on the way to class. This is the part where I began missing the trash.
My right arm, of course, went heavier, and for no god-forsaken reason it felt…Way too long. And I swear I could hear a weird sound coming out of nowhere, like a teapot with boiling water mixed with clicks. But I couldn’t think of what was going on anymore, because right in the middle of those rambles I felt something hard and heavy slamming onto the back of my head, making me go to the floor.
That’s when I turned back and saw her.
Elizabeth Mc-fucking-Robertson. I remember that name like if I myself named that leech when it crawled out of my holes. Me and this…Hm, not sure what adjectives I can use that won’t get me suspended here, let’s call her bitch. This bitch and I had our disagreements, apparently she didn’t like the weird orphan of the class getting better grades than her in history and mommy and daddy’s little spoiled brat made my life imposible for quite a few months when I was 14. Names, pushing me down the hallways, flushing my notebooks down the toilets, cutting my hair and dumping glue on it in the middle of the class…You name it.
In fact, I think I do remember this. This happened in real life too, it was when I said enough is enough and got into my very first official highschool fight. Knocked a teeth or two out of old Bethy, got my ass dragged back home for an entire week, but damn was it worth it. So there I was, down on the floor, my ears ringing, head spinning, holding my backpack tight as she and her lackies laughed and called me half-assed insults, crying for the second or third time today. But instead of dwelling further in my misery, I went the hyena way, to her legs. And me and that raggedy Barbie doll cunt went on the floor. Kicking, scratching, hair pulling, biting…That was something to see, and the other kids, younger or otherwise knew it. Soon we were surrounded by this whole spiral of children chanting and yelling, calling others to see the spectacle. Fucking hell, I didn’t even remember when and how it stopped, I think two teachers split us…Well, in the dream it happened the same, except when it didn’t because that’s what dreams are for. Because at the very end of the fight, I didn’t get dragged out by a responsible adult. No. I got teleported. Again.

I was in my highschool bathroom this time, sitting on the floor. By the looks of the window, it seemed dark. Way too dark for normal school hours…Indeed.
And that’s when I realized what the hell was going on with my arm.
That shit…It was everywhere. No, really. My fucking right arm, now weighting like if a hippo sat on it was long, really fucking long. It coiled around the entire room: the stalls, the sinks, rattled on the floor…I tried moving it, but I physically couldn’t. I wanted to move my body instead but…I was really weak out of a sudden, like if I was hit with a sledgehammer. I was sweating, my heart was racing too. My mouth…Fuck, I was really thirsty and I felt something weird as hell in the tip of my tongue, like a tiny paper. My right arm was itching like hell. And fuck it bled. It was everywhere too.
The clicking sound became more obnoxious now, and the teapot? Nah, not a teapot, that weird hissing sound was the one of a snake.And if you wonder why I know this it’s because my right hand turned into one and was flickering its tongue inches close to my face. Not like I cared in this state, truth be told.
This…Snake? Hand? Snand? This thing got even closer to my face, staring at me with those soulless eyes, doing what snakes do best. Then it opened its mouth, way, way more than what a normal snake can do, and just like that, engulfed me. I don’t even remember if I screamed at that, I think I just wanted to get the hell out of there.

Aaaand, back into the void of the beginning we go. But hey, at least I could walk, or so I thought. I was trapped, stiff like a statue.
And that is when I saw it.
Whispering to me.

The reason of your existence

The growling face of a lion and the slithering body of a giant serpent. A body that, by the way, was coming out of my arm, spilaring further and further away as it turned into this giant monstrosity, with iridescent black scales, eyes of pearls, teeth like daggers and a white mane that glimmered in gold and silver. And it was just me and…It.
That “It” was a demiurge, yes, the gnostic thing. I know it was one, hell, it’s not like I got one plastered on my arm for life, I know what that ugly mug looks like and can smell it from a mile away.

I remember It spoke several times, but I sadly cannot remember what It said. Weird, yeah.

What I’m about to say, my dear self insert, is that I’m tired. Yeah, I have been sitting here for hours writing this at the very last moment. But I don’t mind, I enjoyed it.
You must be really confused, even if you won’t remember this when you wake up and go on with your life as I plan to. It’s okay, I’ll make it brief: You are not real.
I am your creator, the sole reason why you are the way you are, you lived the life you did and you look how you look. I control every aspect of yourself, always did, and will always do. Hey, even that anomaly of yours…Surprise! My own narrative is behind it. Cool idea, is it not?
Don’t believe me? Okay, bet, I’m going to describe how you look at your hand, and I’m going to describe in semi-gruesome detail how your body is going to turn older and older as you die.

Now do it. I then looked at my hand, I don’t know what […]

I then looked at my hand. I don’t know what It said that made me look, or even if it was an impulsive thing. But what I saw…
Dude, my hand was old. Wrinkly as hell, fingers were peeling off and my fingernails were barely nonexistent, I swear I could even see bodyhair growing out of my knuckles.
And I could feel them, oh, how I could. I felt every hair sprouting from every follicle, every darkened spot in my skin appearing, every wrinkle forming, my nails encrusting onto my skin…And it hurt like a motherfucker.

Now I’m sorry this is painful. I don’t really like seeing characters I love such as my Internet personas in such degrees of pain. But it was necessary for the whole plot. It will go away soon, hang in here.
I had the idea for a while. You know, this “Reborn” theme…It made me- Hey, where are you going?

I tried to walk, then run, but to no avail, that exact same thing happened on my legs. Out of nowhere, my knee just stopped working and just refused to bend. I just dragged it off and kept on running, not turning back to the demiurge. Then it went to the other one, then I fell off, with my legs completely stiffened and pulsating.

Man, you’re a stubborn motherfucker, I wonder where you got that from.
As I was saying before this…Tiny interruption, the topic of rebirth. Yes. It gave me the idea of exploring the concept of human lives in a way.
You see, you can compare any story, told or written, to the circle of life: The beginning, when you introduce the topic, the characters, the plot…It can represent birth. How the plot and story goes is the middle, and the end of the tale is death. Simple as that.
I went further, and I was like “Hey, do you know what could be cool? What if every character experienced this?” An ouroboros, starting when someone opens a book and clicks on an article and finishing when you scroll down the page or you reach the last page of the very last chapter. Being born and dying, again. And again. And again. Because that’s the magic of people like you. Countless stories, countless possibilities, countless lives. And you would never know you’re a puppet on stage, nor be aware of the amount of times you’ve died.

Such is the purpose of a character.
And the purpose of this very tale?

At that rate…I was crying, no shit, I was bawling, man, I saw my hair turning white and chunks of it falling down the floor. I felt my teeth rotting away, dangling down my braces as I opened my bloodied mouth in an attempt to hang from my dried gums…
Then I turned, and that…Cunt was staring at me, face to face. I felt as if my skin was being vacuum sealed to my own bones.

Wisdom. That was what I wanted.
I wanted to give you knowledge about the absolute truth of your very being. The reason why and literally everyone you know exists. This is naught but your very own purpose of life. Live, and die. Live, and die. Over and over again, to be loved not only by the ones within your stories, but also the ones reading or writing them until both of us are forgotten.

Do you guys remember when I said I heard a sound? One similar to clicks? It came back again, and in between the pain of me being mummified in real time, I could hear it more than ever, and realize what it was.
Keyboard clicks. No idea as to why they were there.

That is how authors and and their creations work my dear.
And I’m afraid your story and suffering should end for now. Farewell. Until the next reread.

As I aged, older and older, weaker and weaker, I moved

And moved.
Like if something was pushing me towards the edge.
Save Draft - Save & Continue - Save
And then I fell to the abyss.
That is when I woke up from Tartarus itself.

…You reached the end at last.
Or not?

Wake up, Maw.

Man, what a fucking night that was. Maw had such a heavy dream not even the heavy metal coming out of their phone managed to wake them up. Now that’d have been great for their insomniac ass if it weren’t for the fact they just had the heaviest nightmare since they could remember.

They found themselves in quite an uncomfortable position: their face slammed on the floor, body hanging from the side of the bed, only their feet remained on the comfortable sheets and sea of pillows and stuffed animals they often slept with. And in a cold sweat, they yelled out loud as they lost balance completely, making a complete roll as they felt on the floor in a really comedic manner.

And there they were, staring at the ceiling, pale as a literal ghost and with a pulse akin to a race horse stuffed with ketamine, trying not to scream or yell out loud. Fuck, that was close.

First things first, where the hell was?- Oh, Bucephalus the II, there he was, the poor thing fell off too. Maw grabbed their favorite stuffed unicorn and hugged him against their chest as tightly as they could. That helped them calm down a lot.
Once in a better state of mind, they proceeded to check everything was in place, normal considering what an event they went through. Their arms and legs worked just fine. Their skin was smooth and young, their hair as messy as ever, but healthy, all their teeth were there…Maw looked at their inked right hand, a simple silhouette of a black snake baring its tongue, to then sigh and let it fall to the side, breathing in and out, processing what happened as they cuddled more with their fluffy friend to the tune of Lateralus.

Once in a better state of mind, after they confirmed that yes, that bad trip of an experience was but another bad dream, they got up, still somewhat shaky, and checked their phone to turn it off: 11:35 AM. And they had their alarm blasting TOOL at full volume since 10 AM. Fuck, hope the neighbours don’t mind. Their father surely didn’t, given he usually got up fairly early and went to work until lunchtime, at least on Fridays. Maw knew for a fact that if he was still there, he’d have quite literally stormed inside the room by tearing the door down the moment they screamed, because of course he would. Given that was not the case…Hm, if they were lucky though, he’d have left them a stack of pancakes for breakfast.
So why not check the kitchen? And Maw’s gloomy face lit up at the moment when they did. There they were, and with blueberries and whipped cream even! Their favorites. That was enough to put them in a good mood again, and they weren’t going to let that delicious treat go to waste.

Picking their laptop and headphones up, they carried them to the kitchen table, alongside their loyal steed. They served themselves some juice, turned it on, plucked the headphones in, gently sat the stuffed unicorn by their side and opened Oh, they were so going to tell their friends that hell of a dream. And maybe the guys at the Library later on, they’d love it.

And thus, right hand on keyboard and left one holding a fork full of pancake and cream. They typed…
And typed…And typed…

Today at 12:00 PM
i just had the craziest dream-
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