voodoo heart

I’m outside on a grassy hill. My childhood friend (Joe) is going in and out of sleep. He is snoring loudly and occasionally speaking to me in between his snores. I went into a house to retrieve a yellow voodoo doll that I made. It’s made of wood and is triangular. Along with it I bring rusty nails — I have plans to plunge a few of them into the doll’s heart. I’m not sure exactly why or whom I’m trying to curse. My friend starts to speak in a strange language to me. I am able to understand it, but have no means of translating it into English for this writing. The information is ancient however, and I know its revelation to me will have deep consequences in my life. Immediately after one of the strings of knowledge is released, Joe breaks into a loud snore. I find it disturbing that he is operating on such a strange plane of awareness that allows such quick transitions of consciousness.

Soon after I awaken to the sound of my friend snoring. ♨


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