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guest587
Guest
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1/23
dark/heavy atmosphere, chase scene, baby eric, girl mentions Azazel
in the first portion of my dream everyone is of african american descent,
i am in a dimly lit, heavy atmosphere, lone part of a mall.
i am walking down a hall, and i am forced in the same direction as a woman in front of me. she is wearing a brown fuzzy winter hoody. she has black pants and those boots that seem popular among the girls. uggs? she thinks i'm following her and her energy is tensely scrunched up in her self. she keeps looking back and starts getting angry. she has a plastic straw wrapped in paper and tears off the bits of paper from the top, rolling it into a ball with her finger tips and pelts them back in my direction. she grunts as she does this. i don't know if i should be offended and say something or just leave her alone. i choose the latter.
as we round the corner the place becomes densely populated. the atmosphere is still rather heavy. there's a bunch of police officers off to my left. they are of low rank or entry level. some of these officers look like children. maybe young men in their early 20's. i think i am witnessing a police station, there's a congregation of officers while some are being dispatched to their proper station. i see one higher ranked official working a double as a security guard in this walmart styled facility. he has multiple firearms attached to his persons.
as i'm walking through the mall, a police officer is escorting a man in handcuffs off to my right. they are headed towards me, not away from me. as they get closer, the police officers face scrunches up with pure disdain and suddenly they're working in unison to attack me. the man in handcuffs is extremely swol wearing a muscle tee and the officer takes his hands off of him and they both bum rush me. the feeling is like they want to kill me. next thing i know a chase ensues and i am trying to flee this place. i am running through corridors and it feels like the energy behind the chase scene amplifies. what started as two adult men feels like maybe three or four. maybe even five.
i break through the mall and into more private sectors. there's a man who appears as some professor wearing glasses and thumbing through loose papers. i plead with him that i need to "get out of this place" recognizing the windows behind him leads to a parking garage. when i see this, it's a relief, and without waiting for the mans reply i break through the windows and go out into the parking garage. i rush down another narrow hall, and close this heavy door behind me. i lean up against these guard rails and use my weight to keep this giant lever in the locked position. the men on the other side of the door are trying to bust the door open. i keep it locked with all of my strength. they are giving it everything they have, i can feel the violent shocks of energy through my legs with each ramming attempt. this goes on for a solid few minutes before their efforts begin to wane- once i realize there's less attention on the door i make a run for it. it's night time outside but i am no longer in the parking garage- i managed to hop over some fence and am wondering how to get home. it feels as if i'm in an entirely different state with no clear understanding of where i'm at. all i know is i can't go back the way i came.
wake up.
i use the restroom and as i'm trying to fall back asleep i recognize the potential for an OBE, the creeping sensations one associates with sleep paralysis is present. having this fearful dream i opt in to turn on my side and ignore the pulling/over powering force and instead decide i will sleep more. a part of me questions whether i should have explored this opportunity- and what message is trying to be relayed from the first dream?
the next segment of dreams is more scattered like, with only seemingly random details. there's more information here, less sleeping time, and multiple scenes.
i believe in one scene i am at my house. everything is as it is and i am communicating with my childhood friend and neighbor sammy long distance. sammy and his family are korean. i seem to be communicating with him over the phone into late hours/early morning. i tell sammy that eventually i need to go, as we are nearing 3 or 4AM. as soon as i get off the phone someone rings our doorbell. i don't want to answer. i go to see who it could be at this time of the day without making myself visible and it's sammy's dad. my mom apparently got up to answer the door and we're all outside now. his dad seems drunk with joy. he looks younger too, he has more hair than i remember. he is trying to share some good news about a new job. that's all i seem to remember at this time.
in another scene two distinct things happens- a dream with back to back details(foreground) and a separate dream blended in the (background). the foreground: i am again at my house except this time it is day time. there's a baby named eric. my dad is playing with the child. i am out there as well, playing and observing. eric is like my baby brother, around 5-6 years of age(i don't actually have a a baby brother and can only assume this is me as a child). he wants to play in this tree. so dad takes him to the tree out front. dad is grabbing eric by his shirt and raising him high up in the sky and low down to the ground, all while hanging from some branch. eric is laughing and enjoying all of it. dad lowers eric into my arms and i throw him back to dad. baby eric is climbing the tree on his own now- dad becomes more of a giant hand than a body. this hand again grabs eric by the shirt- the shirt is all bunched up in this fist and baby eric is thrown about. you would think it rather reckless but the kid is loving it.
in the background: scenes of the mall are again apparent. this time the people here are white or hispanic. i'm in a room where people are being submitted to the police. not before this we're removing these tatoos off these kids in a private room. i am just observing everything. "we" are using "microrazors" to remove gang affiliations from our people. it's a painful process, especially since some of these kids are completely covered in tattoos which are of an incriminating nature. one kid, with a shaved head, is convincing the other it's not so bad. i look where the tattoos used to be and the person removing them has turned the removal process into an art. there's blacked out ink and hallowed skin creating depth and shadow. there's new symbols over the old, things like thin branched out lightning bolts. some skulls are left on one of the kids. all that's left in my memory are these razorblades hanging on string and the idea that they're being used to shave off skin.
in the foreground: somewhere here, after playing with baby eric- there's a transition towards the neighbors house. i remember me, as the adult observer, navigating over some invisible line shifting towards the neighbor. in order to do this i am having to carefully jump across the lawn which is covered in dog poop. i am trying my darndest to avoid the poop but by my own momentum and the sheer amount of it, i end up at the very end sinking the ball of my foot into some. oh yeah, i am barefoot in the yard. so i'm scraping it off a nearby rock and using the grass to rub dry.
the neighbor is a white woman with blonde hair. she works for popeyes chicken. she thinks i'm her nemesis. i'm not, but she has this competitive nature in her and she installs me as some rival figure in her mind.
while this is happening there's a few people, my self included, rushed up to the side of my house. i'm pointing out to dad there's a leak. what should be covered is exposed on the bottom corner- there's really intense water pressure shooting off the side. dad tries to touch it and it stings his hand because of how intense the pressure is from the water coming out. i remember an image of him, or myself, touching a brick and suddenly more cracks start to spread through the house. we're told to be careful, and this is something we need to repair.
back towards the woman who works for popeyes. she is very artistic and creative. she has come up with a new design for storing fried chicken to-go. it's a dark green microwavable, plastic air sealed bag shaped like an entire fried chicken. it has a spot for the breast, the legs- and resting underneath it are mashed potatoes and a flaky biscuit. in my mind i'm thinking the neighbors will love having this- but i also question why so many people love fast food when i have healthier options for them? my sister is with me and i tell my sister, "i don't really like the fried food but i'm tempted to try the gravy with the biscuit."
the focus has shifted towards the woman who produced this new to-go dark green baggy. there's a word given to me here that feels strange and important. now that i'm awake recording, i believe this word was given to me as a clue.
the girl who works for popeyes is now chronicling her dreams and keeping a journal. she is telling a story about a man who moved into her work place- even though they're both popeyes workers she says they are both more artistic in nature and she is falling in love. the word she uses to describe his eyes is what felt important... she calls them, "Azazel Blue" eyes.
so much energy is put on the word azazel that I wake up.
end log...
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