Meanwhile, back in Africa…

November 26, 2010

I had a strange dream last night:

Impressive in their size and not built to excess, cream-colored pillars decorate the torch-lit walkway I find myself walking down. I look up at the sky and the moon is full and bright, muting the glow of the stars closest to it. I turn right to an unimpressive & bland gated area, and realizing I don’t have the access required to pass through them, I turn around and am greeted by a smiling, dark-skinned lad. He signals for me to follow him to the end of the walkway; we stop at a large double gate and he slides the key into the lock and opens it for me, inviting me to walk through.

As soon as both of my feet are on the opposite side of the gate, as if in a literal blink of an eye, my surroundings change and I am in what looks like the wilderness of Africa. I hear a loud pop followed by a small explosion and a slight shimmer in the distance catches my eye, like it is winking at me. I take three steps in it’s direction and am next to it. At a closer look, it has tiny grooves of similar pattern at the base and tip and is emitting a low humming noise. I reach out to touch it but before I can wrap my hand around it, the screaming of children assaults my ears. Coming at me is a platoon of African child soldiers, guns firing and grenades exploding a few feet in front of me. In such circumstances I would usually raise my arms and roar/go akimbo and bang some pots and pans together to scare them off but I was caught quite off guard this time. And I was in Africa for some reason. Naturally I did not have my usual composure about me.

They all stopped moving and firing within a few feet of me and lined up. They parted a gap in the middle of the line and a slightly taller young fellow passed them and slowly approached me. Within arms reach, his eyes turned jet black (eerily like the demonic senior from last night’s dream) and his teeth sharpened right before my eyes. He snickered and continued toward me. I whipped out a small, ornate sawed off shotgun and fired off a round at his chest. He stumbled back, stunned a bit but shook it off and continued toward me. We went through this for what seemed too long of a time and each time he became more persistent than the last. I felt a magnetic sensation around my head and eyes, which I was sure was coming from him trying to hold my gaze (a fancy way of trying to put me in a staring contest against my will). The shells would slam into his body and face but he was not wounded by them, only forced back. Eventually I began to wonder what I would do once I ran out of ammo or became bored with the repetition of this possible stalemate of good vs. evil in the desert (could this represent a possible move toward amoralism within myself?? Ooooo, deep!).

I hear the rushing of wind above me and looking up, see a floorless hangar/warehouse type building coming right at me. The child in front of me snarls his lip and turns his back to me right as the building lands around me (thank god for the angels of Industrialism and their shield-buildings). This building had a row of dusty windows on each wall at the top; aside from that it was empty and had light pouring in through the windows, forming rays that were exaggerated by the dirt and dust on the panes. I heard a knocking sound on the far end of the building and as I approached, the ground around me cracked and shattered, it’s particles being thrown into the air in slow motion. I woke up.

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