No, I haven’t dropped off the planet as of late, only out of the social scenes for the time being. I’ve been busy with work, my writing and family. It’s hard to balance the three, but I make the most out it. Even if I can only write a little here and there, I’m still writing and that is all that matters.
Last night, I dream of tornadoes – multiple ones falling from a darkened sky, while we were in a house unfamiliar to me. My husband was trying to secure something outside during the storm, and the tornadoes kept coming closer. I was curious and looked up the meaning in a dream dictionary:
To see a tornado in your dream, suggests that you are experiencing some extreme emotional outbursts and temper tantrums. Is there a situation or relationship in your life that may be potentially destructive?
To dream that you are in a tornado, signifies that you are feeling overwhelmed and out of control. You will be met with a series of disappointments for the next week or so. Your plans will be filled with complications.
To see several tornadoes in your dream, represent people around you who are prone to violent outbursts and shifting mood swings. It may also symbolize a volatile situation or relationship.
I thought this was interesting. I wasn’t actually inside of any of the tornadoes, and don’t feel particularly overwhelmed by anything… unless it’s in regards to my writing…
I don’t feel as though I’m in any type of volatile relationship or situation. I’m chalking it up to just a dream at this point, but sometimes my mind has a way of messing with me, leaving me with questions.
Are the tornadoes significant? Who knows. Maybe I’m missing something, a sign that maybe a storm is just what I need…
Sometimes my active imagination refuses to take a break, even in sleep, and so this is what happens. It is a scene I might try to use sometime…
>Dark haired, blue-eyed, pale woman in a black tanktop and shorts, in fear for her life and being brought back into what she felt was slavery, holding a fork..
She approached the man that was sent (or so I thought) to retrieve her for his master (and I was jealous – his master is supposed to be my master, the man I was to marry, but whenever this woman appears I am always passed over by the one I want; yet my dearest confidant and loyal bodyguard to our master was there to get rid of her on our master’s orders so she would stop trying to persuade me to run from our master). She was shaking, fear clearly visible on her face and in her movements. The man reached for her, and gathering her courage, she plunged the fork into his left eye with a POP! and twisted. He screamed in pain, and struggled against her. When he pushed her away, I watched with horror as the dull brown eyeball came away with her, trailing nerves and blood vessels behind it. I had just entered the scene, and gasped, bringing my presence to their attention. He turned to look at me in shock, a large bloody hole gaping in his face, and suddenly he feared for my safety, as he found his voice long enough to shout “Correre, mio caro! (Run, my dear!)”
Instead I found myself picking up his gun as he fell, and pointing it at her head. With a shaky hand I called my love, still believing that he had sent his bodyguard to retrieve the woman that I had mistakenly thought was his love.
I’m used to having bizarre dreams – I have an overactive imagination, and it gets worse when I haven’t written in a while (the Beast doesn’t like being ignored), though this is hardly the case as of late.
But last night, my insecurities were the star of the show. The setting was one I’m familiar with somewhat: a busy town square, nearing dusk, shoppers and pedestrians milling about. I don’t know what it is about this scene that it keep reappearing in my dreams. The more that I tried to concentrate on the people around me, the more of them that turned into people on my Twitter.
NOTE: A very strong indication that I’ve spent too much time there recently, especially if it is now invading my dreams. Another vice, crutch, addiction – whatever you call it – will have to go. Continue reading
>Why do you look so frightened?
Shhh, its alright. I hit her with enough tranquilizers to take down a herd of elephants.
What? Oh no no, she’ll be fine.
Yes, I realize she’s going to be pissed off when she wakes up. We’re safe for a while, though.
No, I don’t think chaining her to a box inside of another box is a bit excessive.
>It’s not safe around me today. I’ve done what I can to warn those near me, but my pleas fall on deaf ears. Fools, you don’t know what you are up against.
The Beast is raging, thrashing against the bonds that I’ve erected, but they won’t hold for long. Hell, to be honest, I’m tempted by my love for chaos just to let her free and feed. But blood, guts and the smell of terror is just so hard to get out of the furniture, and I’m tired enough as it is.
I’m also sad to report that due to the Beast last night, I didn’t get a single word written, which only infuriated the Beast even more. Today is going to be a struggle if I can’t find a way to appease her or keep her under control.