THE TITLE IS: SPIDERS, FLIES, AND LIES

I friend was recently writing in her Live Journal about dreams. I would link you here Touch but my head is killing me and I am barley able to just type this. Sorry.
At one time, and so, also, back in my Live Journal days I once was a regular writer about my dreams but things changed. I think my dreams have always been dark but I think with new found writing drive and with so many untamed ideas, wants, and desires floating inside my head I started to dream dreams which for the most part as I told to Touch, “Would probably have the white coats lead by Home Land Security after my ass.” So I’ve dreamed about killing a public figure or two? I have always dreamed about killing myself and that was probably mostly about masturbation. Think about it! Think about it! There. Didn’t hurt a bit to use your brain did it?
But besides insulting the three people who read this blog and the few who are unfortunate ones to stumble across my delusions of grander I decided to write tonight about a dream I had this morning. This dream took place after Wave went to work and I went back to sleep, the alarm went off, and I went to sleep again after resetting the alarm and before being woken early by people… well, yet us just say assholes to keep this short and get on with my dream.
…Oh, let me try to write it in story form. My editor is probably floating around on the web somewhere maybe she will drift by and do, what my editors seem to do a lot, which is run off from their computer pulling bits of hair out.

The darkness was tip toed within by dancers of light from over head lights flickering on and off. The light would shine on the puddles and he would take a step, stopping in-between when the darkness would come back but again the lights would flicker back on, sometimes with sparks from the water pouring down from the holes in the ceiling. Slowly he made his way through the warehouse to the double white doors he knew very well. He tried the door handle but it was locked. A code he never could find the nack to remember would have gotten him through the door. A good swift kick with his fake Hot Topic biker boots did the job just the same though.
The doors came off their hinges and the light from the room showered the whole warehouse. He looked back and around him to see for the first time that he had treaded through ankle depths of water to get here and the depry that was bumping into his legs as he made his way here was not floating shelving or empty boxes but empty bodies which nether had a life or a soul within them anymore. Eyes hollowed out from bursting from the kisses of the vampires. Skin dried from the touches of the flies and spiders of Hell.
But he turned back knowing what was behind him and walked into what was in front of him. Within the small room he had spent a few hours of his life sitting behind a desk, in front of a computer, doing nothing to change the world, nothing to progress humanity to be ready for what he know was only a matter of time, he saw them all sitting in the same chairs, the same whited out looks on their faces, the same daily grind in their postures.
One of them noticed he had entered and spoke to him,
‘You have no say in this matter any longer. Daily you could have moved forward change. Daily you could have stood for the good fight and you just sat behind that desk as part of the machine that is our devourer. The thing that is more fearsome than vampires, flies from Hell, or Witches from Wichita County. Your fear of need gave us only a need to fear. You claimed leadership but you only wanted comfort. You are nothing hero.’

Then my fucking work phone rang and I had to get up.
C.

THE TITLE IS: SPIDERS, FLIES, AND LIES