May 8, 2016

“I think I have found my purpose” the middle-aged man said wearily. A few days ago he tried his hand at the piano in the bar where he usually worked. He wasn’t a performer but seeing his friend in the crowd dance to his music gave him life. He didn’t seem to notice how he fumbled some of the notes and missed some of the beats but it was glaringly noticeable to the owner when he faltered. “And then it was all nothing” he said. He recounted how he walked out, got into his car and drove to an old mansion by the lake. His disappearance was unnoticed for three days until he showed up back at his house and family soaked from head to toe. He spent the next few days trying to convince his boss that he didn’t try to commit suicide that day as he showed him the direct route he drove in his car. It was undeniable however as he had a record of paying a fee that could’ve only meant that he had gone to the mansion days before.

–

I was sitting in a chair in front of my dad. He told me that I had to do something with my life as a wave of shame washed over me for only halfheartedly listening while looking at my phone. At one moment I was looking at Snapchat and another I was distracted by a flood of notifications from a Google Group I had recently signed in to.

–

I was in an unfamiliar dining room with my family. I could see the city lights out of the apartment window. My dad was telling me to take responsibility. In a panic, my mind had shut down as I tried to restrain myself from making any movements. “He’s acting out his dreams again” he said, “this is the third time now”. An intense feeling of paranoia gripped me as I wasn’t sure if anything I was seeing was actually happening beyond my mind. My actions became increasingly violent as I thrashed around the room, destroying the furniture and injuring my family. Surely I was still curled up in a ball on the chair, right?

I pulled the curtains down, but instead of getting stripped off of the rod, the cloth itself stretched and twisted until I let go. They wouldn’t come down even with the full force of my body weight. I smashed the brown glass bottles against the floor repeatedly but they would never break. I picked up an imagined gun and shot my head before shooting my brother but the only time it went off was the second. I looked at the bloodied mess in front of me in horror before glancing to the left.

“Don’t you want to undo everything? And try again?” he asked.

No matter how I forced it, I could only rewind the damage I had done in small increments. A few seconds would go back, but they would partially get replayed. I could maybe save a few broken plates from falling to the ground, but the blood remained. I could rewind just enough so that I could feel the warmth of my brother against my chest as the weapon dissolved and reformed in my hand. None of the shots on myself would work. I was stuck in an irreversible state.

–

This was a series of very anxiety inducing dreams wow. It probably means I should get done with all of the work I’ve been putting off for more than a week now :^)Also, I should probably try to record these at least within 12 hours of waking up but oh well