Sunday, February 12, 2006, 01:52 PM - nightmares
The nightmare I had last night was a real doozie. It didn't involve my dad, at least, so that was a plus. But the vision was pretty bad nonetheless.
In this dream, there was this underground complex where people whould be abducted to and tortured to death. It sometimes took the victims days to die at the hands of their tormentors. The victims were all hooked up to wires and sensors of some kind, which, in turn, were connected to a bank of computers. The torturers wore white smocks and hid their faces behind white cloth masks so that one could only see their eyes. The tormentors had dark eyes -- none of blue or green, but instead were all black or dark grey.
It seemed that the purpose of the so-called experiment was to somehow collect the energy of the psychic imprint generated when someone dies badly. This energy was stored, augmented, and focused into some kind of weapon.
Beneath and to the right of the torture rooms, a single human subject was restrained to an observation table. He was also covered with sensor wires. It seemed that the purpose of the tormentor's experiment was to put the combined psychic imprint of dozens of bad deaths into the mind of this one single person -- just to see what would happen. They theorized that the influx of remembered pain and suffering would be a potent weapon that could drive the recipient into madness and suicide. The target, in this case, would fully experience what it was like to die in agony and fear -- over and over again, and concurrently.
Imagine what it must be like to feel another's death-pain. But also experience that kind of fear, betrayal, and hopelessness magnified a dozen times at once.
It was a pretty bad dream.
[ add comment ] | [ 0 trackbacks ] | permalink |
( 3 / 1816 )Sunday, February 12, 2006, 01:34 PM - nightmares
One of the curses of my life is the fact that my dreams -- even to this day -- are ruled by darkness and horrors. Sometimes my father (the chief abuser in my life) is the main character in my nightmares, but other times the nightmares have other, dismal themes.
I don't think of my father too often during my waking hours, but at night it seems hard to escape him. It's like I'm being hauinted by an angry, hateful ghost -- but the abuser is still ALIVE! I just don't get it.
[ add comment ] | [ 0 trackbacks ] | permalink |
( 2.9 / 1848 )Wednesday, December 31, 1969, 07:00 PM
[ add comment ] | [ 0 trackbacks ] | permalink |
( 0 / 0 )Back
