Tuesday, June 7

Hitchcock Dreams

I woke up and that post was there. Did I write it in my sleep? Or did Isaac hack my account again? The latter probably. I wish he would leave me alone.

I remember another nightmare. I was on the beach watching the waves. My high school history teacher was there, Mr. Jackson. He was smoking a cigarette. I could see the smoke rising out of his mouth. He walked away and I followed him to a small stone cliff with steps carved into it. "Count the steps," he said. I counted them and said, "Thirty-nine."

Suddenly, he wasn't Mr. Jackson anymore. He was Isaac. "So many stone stairs," he said, "for which I sought. Now that I'm gone, it's all for naught." A bird landed on his shoulder and pecked at his ear. "Yesterday," he said, "upon that stair, I met a man without a care. He didn't care again today - and now I thought of something to say." He leaned in close and I could see the bird had pecked away part of his skull, leaving his brain open and bleeding. "Listen: we made it up and it all came from true anyway. That's the funny part." Smoke poured from his mouth and blood from his nose. "Smoke and mirrors, my friend, it's all smoke and mirrors." Blood dripped down his face and he smiled.

And then I woke up.

2 comments:

  1. It seems to me that the funny part is that the Fears themselves are obsolete. I mean no offense to you and your friends but the purpose of fear is to tell you that something is wrong so you can do something about it. But from what I can gather these Fear things are inevitable espeacially that ARCHANGEL guy. Which means fear has outlived it's usefulness. I mean you could still get depressed about the rotten luck of being born into such a crap-sack universe but fear stops being genuine when it's purpose becomes obsolete. Or at least that's how I feel.

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    Replies
    1. We can fight them, though. The Archangel- at least, according to a maniacal proxy named Steward- can be avoided, for instance.

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