a tranfiguration

I am standing on the utmost peak of a jagged mountain. It is a moonless, pitch black night. The lightening flashing around me is the only source of light. My naked body is hunched over a pale rock. I am sweating, muttering words in a language I don’t know . . . words that come to me as if whispered by a worm inside my skull. They have a ghastly power, and the world around me changes as I untangle the invidious words from my stern lips. The wind begins to rip through the pulsating darkness like an estranged uninvited guest. And I see, in the frantic flickering light, the mountains grow and topple, the vast cracked desert expand endlessly, the dark seas come rushing in. All on my whim. All on my whim!

I am alone in this world — it is me, and I am it.

But wait! What’s this? Something is happening to my body! I am undergoing a metamorphosis. I twitch against the pale dank rock. My fingers and arms elongate to my knees, my eyes sink into my hallow skull. Ribs sharpened, stomach turned in. My skin, a pasty blue.
And when all this horror has ceased I see that my testicles have dropped and become like flat stone tablets. But they are spongy, dense, and soft, still connected to my groin by a long thick pinkish tube. Though they are heavy, I can lift them with my long crooked arms. On the tablets are more words . . . more terrible words I don’t understand.

Should I read them?

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under a veil of darkness

She’s nude, lying under a translucent veil. Her eyes are a hazy milky white . . . swirling. She questions me. Beckons me. Tempts me to follow her strange sting of nonsensical language. Without English words she explains what is wrong. She exposes each and every one of my crimes . . . the crime of breath . . . the crime of hunger . . . the crime of thought . . . the crime of motion.

Her breasts form a raised comforting shape, and her nipples, two dark patches beneath the fabric. She smiles, and instructs me to unhinge my soul — to make it spill out through my boney fingers . . . to never let it back into my body once it is free.

Her milky eyes swirling faster. . . .  Blood is dripping off the moon. A fork lodged in my tongue.

I understand: “Write — with reckless abandon — write. But for the love of words — shatter your pen.”  ♨

13,5 hours of sleep

In my dream I’m telling someone about the dream I just had: from a bird’s eye perspective I see a row of houses on an elongated island in a river. I know I’m in Vienna, Austria. I’m smoothly flying or rather gliding by the houses and over the water. I can see that one of the houses is in fact a stage-like building on the water with a huge advertisement for a German electronics supplier. I continue my air glide towards the mountains in front of me, everything looks extremely 3D and feels intense. I suddenly am in a room where everything, floor, ceiling and walls, are made from dark mirroring material. In the middle of the room stands an opulently decorated Christmas tree.

As I’m telling the person all about the dream (the 3D effect and details) and come to the point, “…and in the middle of the room…,” he/she ends the sentence “…stood a Christmas tree.” I’m highly excited that the person has had the same dream, but then someone tells me that they put psychedelic mushrooms in the cookies I had eaten before. I’m extremely disappointing and angry that the wonderful feeling of gliding and the 3D effect didn’t come from deep inside me, and that I didn’t have the precious experience of a shared dream, but that someone just drugged me and injected the pictures. ☆

I’m now in a squatted house in Berlin with a friend. There’s some other people and we are waiting for a concert. There’s several rooms and empty door frames, lots of couches everywhere. We wander around and look for a good place to stand and see the band. But we can’t find the stage. I feel like I’m in a labyrinth. ☆

There’s a lush landscape with a weirdly shaped long basin which doesn’t look natural. Steps go down to where at first there is impressively green grass I can see from above. I’m now in the basin and it’s flooded with grayish water. Pieces of wood and furniture and boats float in the water. ☆

I’m now in a medical practice (perhaps I entered via footbridge from the flooded basin) and lying on a cot. I’m not wearing pants so I guess I’m waiting for a gynecological examination. I don’t like the male doctor from the beginning. As I’m lying there half-naked I can see that he didn’t close the door and people who walk by could see me. I’m angry because my privacy is invaded and the doctor doesn’t care. I want to complain about his behavior and try to find someone in charge. ☆

There’s broken bits of glass everywhere and a lot of it in my pants and underwear. I desperately try to remove them and not cut myself. ☆

(One night later) I’m confined in my grandparent’s house, someone who wants to harm me is inside too, and I freak out smashing the windows, screaming and shouting desperately. There’s broken glass all over the floor again. ☆

ice donkeys

I’m in the back seat of a topless jeep with my friends, Patrick & Jen. It’s night. We are in city resembling Hanoi, Vietnam. After a few minutes we realize the driver has vanished, and we are headed, full speed, into oncoming, one-way traffic. I scramble to the front and attempt to gain control of the auto. I jerk the wheel and we go over the wide medium. The steering is awkward. I can barely gain control over the machine, but I manage to get us into the basement of a department store. People are telling me to go into a crowded room. The room is red and full of donkeys that have human heads. They are running in circles and merging into one another — the trunk of their bodies fuse and their heads and legs multiply. I reach out my neck and take a big bite out of one of beasts. Its flesh is flavorless and as cold as ice, there is no blood. A nude woman emerges from the tear in its skin. She dances before me and I quickly start to feel uncomfortable and decide to leave. ♨

a small sacrifice

I am preparing two women to be sacrificed. They are in a bird cage in my parents’ family room. I’m upstairs and annoyed that I forgot to remove their clothes, and I am nervous for them. Of course they won’t want to remove them when I instruct them to do so, but the flames will be more painful if they don’t. To my surprise they are nude when I arrive downstairs. This is the second time I have had to prepare women to be sacrificed by fire — in fact, it seems like I have prepared these very two women before (perhaps that is why they removed their clothes). I feel bad for them, I can only imagine how they feel knowing what awaits. I’m sure they are nice ladies, I’m not doing this to be mean, it just has to be done. If freeing them was an option, I would — but it isn’t. The sacrifice must be made.
As my brother, Bobby, and I are loading the cage with crumpled newspaper I see that he left them two large plates of bird food. I’m annoyed because there is too much, and if they eat it all they will be in even more pain when the fire is lit. But there is nothing I can do about it, and rationalize that the food will be a good sacrifice too — besides, they will escape if attempt to get it out.
As I’m loading the cage, the moaning, screaming women turn into beautiful birds. They are flying about and franticly trying to escape when I open the small door to load the newspaper. I know that even if they were to escape there is noway for them to get out of the house. They would be better off not fighting so hard for life and instead contemplate their short time left embodied on Earth. One of them succeeds in getting out of the cage however, and immediately after she attacks my arm with her beak. The pain wakes me up in the middle of the night. ♨

sky cracking

Something is happening in the sky. The clouds are glowing, flickering, and unfolding. Something’s happening, something’s coming. It’s night. I’m outside behind a house. There’s a tree blocking my view. I yell for the girl in the van to come and see — she was reading. I know this girl well, and I’m very fond of her — I want her to see this event and witness its magic with me. There is another girl in the house taking a shower, it’s her friend of the same name. We don’t want her to feel uncomfortable so we try to steer clear of the window; but we have no choice, we must stand with our backs towards it if we want to see what happens when the sky opens up.
– – –
I am in a desolate, post-apocalyptic city. There are Asian and African people everywhere. They are singing in the streets and playing instruments. I don’t know what they want, and I don’t know how I got here. Everything is powered with steam, and this causes the streets to be cast in a hazy white mist. ♨