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This is someone else’s dream.

i am in between and i don’t know where i am or what i have been doing for a long long time unconnected images float in and out of my consciousness people i have never seen things i have never done places i have never been then everything fades, and i am looking at a world of gray some old lines from a poet come back to me inspired by the dread of the place and i am surprised that i can recall them immensely tall trunks of trees gray and leafless rose up in endless succession as far as the eye could reach their roots were concealed in wide-spreading morasses whose dreary water lay intensely black still and altogether terrible beneath and the strange trees seemed endowed with a human vitality and waving to and fro their skeleton arms were crying to the silent waters for mercy in the shrill and piercing accents of the most acute agony and despair¹ who said that did i write those lines there is a man coming towards me now he looks familiar there is a strange smile on his face that takes me back to a place of death and misery he grips my hands like someone once did and then i remember him the first thing i remember was that i know this man but from where i can’t say but he smiles and tells me that everything is on schedule and i can hear him but his mouth is not moving and i think its fucking creepy but he doesn’t seem to mind and says that soon things will all be over and then i remember something about him again but forget it just as quickly i tell him that i don’t want to be in a dead world with gray trees and he smiles and says there’s no helping that now and i move towards him because i don’t seem to like what he is saying anymore and then everything goes a deeper shade of gray hey isn’t that a song or something this is fucking weird oh boy i feel something incredibly bad is happening

(next)

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¹ from Poe “The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym”