Strong coffee trails a path of heat from my mouth toward my stomach, a pooling warmth that hugs me from the inside as I fight away the last tendrils of sleep from my tired form.
Too many thoughts behind these sleepy eyes and not enough energy to make sense of them all. They drift along the edge of my consciousness, little dancing lights blinking off and on, becoming like playful fireflies floating within the black.
A strange mood has taken hold, one that had fought to linger before I slipped into my nightly dreamscape. One would think it would have dissipated as the mind traveled the other worlds, yet somehow it remained; waiting patiently for my return. Even now as I proceed with hefty gulps of hot coffee, firing up my internal engines like an old car, I find it rather difficult to dismiss the oddness swirling around me.
Definitely not one of the most pleasant emotions I could experience at four o'clock in the morning.
*takes another deep drink from her Nightmare Before Xmas thermos*
On an interesting note, one that many of you probably find surprising. Well, for those of you who actively partake in reading my blogs (to which I am grateful), as I mentioned previously that I have switched over from being an avid smoker to vaping. Here's the interesting part. Two days ago, I had attempted a single cigarette after not smoking for a week, and only depending on my vape. Reason being, I was on my way with a friend to go buy more vape juice and wondered how my old cigarettes would taste. I had a brand new unopened pack in my bag, and decided to open it.
I've never been so appalled by a cigarette in my entire existence. It was absolutely vile and my stomach turned. I barely had half before trashing it. I gave the entire pack away without a second thought. It's odd to me how quickly my body switched over and how my sense of smell has seriously amplified, no longer hidden behind a veil of smoke. I already had a very sensitive nose, but now I can smell nearly ten times more. Like Cas from Supernatural talking about when he was human and how much he loved Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. When he tried to take bite after becoming an Angel again, he could taste the particles of the ingredients and it was too much. I can now relate to that (to a degree) when it comes to scents. It's like taking a deep breath for the first time and being overwhelmed with information. I knew this was likely to happen once I gave up smoking, I just had no idea how acute my olfactory glands were.
*chuckles softly, drains her thermos and shuffles in a zombuh like fashion toward the kitchen to get more*
Whatever odd emotion this is that's clung to me since before I fell asleep, I hope it fades as sunlight starts to bleed across a blue/black horizon. It's an unsettling feeling, one that lingers at the back of your mind, causing negative emotions to stir and awaken. Making me pause in my positive outlook and allow doubt to fester into being.
I'll address it, as I'm doing now, but I'll give it no more than that. I understand its presence, as certain events have brought it to the surface. Nothing catastrophic, merely minor things that have already been remedied. I s'pose it was just enough to summon this uncomfortable energy, considering my mind has this knack for dwelling when it shouldn't and causes an inner, downward spiral deep within labyrinth of bad memories.
I'm going to stop it before it gets out of hand and force myself to focus on what's in front me. My mind can be a nasty place if given too much rope to run with. Not only will it become untangled, it'll take me with it. Not something I actively want to deal with.
On a lighter now, I'm up at this ungodly hour so I can wake up properly before heading to work before 7am. Ive always needed at least an hour to myself if I'm going somewhere. Hence why I get up at 4am so I can actually wake up and get ready with time to spare. It helps quell my anxiety, a trait I inherited from my Dad. I hate being late, it triggers it. Rushing does as well. So I'd much rather get up two to three hours early to keep that panic rat from escaping its cage. It's the only way I can safely control that chaotic energy without outside help. Which means I find myself crashing earlier (trying to anyway, I haven't slept very well in quite awhile). A small price to pay but honestly worth it. I'd rather learn how to manage my 'quirks' than depend on a medication that would zombuh-fy me. That's my personal preference, it doesn't work for everyone.
Now the energy has become an anxiousness. Very strange. It's not trying to dig a hole into the locked away chapters of my thoughts like it once was. Hmm, weird. You know what? I'd much rather experience this (not like anxiety, it's more like a feeling I sometimes get when something important happens. Yeah, I'm weird) than become depressed. The lesser of two evils.
Damn, I've babbled quite enough this morning. Now I ingest my magical coffee goodness and prepare myself for work; a job that feels like a second home.
On that note, I hope everyone has a good day. ^_^
-Adieu
Panic weaved through the darkness like an airborne pathogen. They appeared wide-eyed and pale, breath sporadic as their hearts fluttered like wild hummingbirds trapped in a cage.
In attempt to calm them, I offered to stay behind, to be the lookout. Their fear was so palpable I could almost taste it as I herded them to a safe room in the house. Within the chaos I felt something wash over me. Whatever it was, it left me feeling numb and quiet. Incredibly still. I knew what had to be done.
A strange voice filled my thoughts and the words suddenly made everything crystal clear. "Sacrifice the one to save the many."
"Get inside and lock this door!" My voice boomed as the oldest girl, no more than 15, turned and focused on my face. "Do not open this for any reason. Am I understood?"
She nodded frantically as sadness filled her big eyes. I gave her a small, reassuring smile before closing the reinforced door into its frame and waited to hear the several deadbolts lock into place. I closed my eyes and took a steadying breath. Though calm, my heart began to race. It wasn't fear that sped up its rhythm, it was adrenalin.
Shadows seemed to pulse all around me, devouring the colors from the world and leaving my vision filled with all shades of blues, blacks and greys. Night time colors. A twisted smile pulled at my lips as my vision adjusted and suddenly my surroundings lit up as though moonlight touched everything around me.
This thing preyed on the fear of innocence, hiding within the darkness. Using the thick night to hunt. Depending on the dark to stay out of sight. Thinking it wouldn't be seen; the proverbial boogeyman. Only this time, it targeted the wrong house.
If it only knew...
...here, there be Monsters.
I slid back into the shadows, my soft gray pajama pants making no sound as my barefeet clung to the hardwood floor. Small hands clutched the thick handle of a good old fashioned slugger as I held it close to my chest, my white tank top sticking to my skin as I began to sweat despite the chill in the air. I focused on my breathing, crouched in the darkest corner of the hallway, when the distinct sound of heavy footsteps caught my attention.
The silhouette appeared impossibly tall, a huge shadow with a very visible face. A ghostly mask covered his features as he held a huge butcher knife in his right hand. The sonuvabitch wasn't supposed to exist...and this wasn't Halloween.
I watched as he neared the door where the kids were hiding and decided this had gone on long enough. I stood and took two large steps into the center of the hallway, facing him.
"Hey, ugly!" My voice rang through the house like a penny in a tin can and watched him turn fully in my direction. That horrible Shatner mask an expression as lifeless as the eyes that peered through the sunken holes, seeming to stare off into nothing.
Bringing the wooden bat up like a batter at the plate I gave a disturbing grin and purred, "Wanna play?"
Suddenly everything slowed down and I was no longer connected to my body. As though standing off to the side, watching as two very different forms charged at each other. He brought his blade up to slice into me as I leapt up off the ground and weilded baseball bat like a samurai sword. With a sweeping arc the bat made contact. A horrific wet crack resonated off the walls as of the wood met violently against his face. He fell back but I was on him.
Nothing was going stop me...
When it was over, the ghostly mask was stained bright red and laid flat, face down on the other side of the hallway. There wasn't much skull left as I stood there with a cracked slugger in my trembling hands, dripping with blood. He'd managed to slice at my arms when he tried to fight back, but they were only superficial cuts. I was too fast.
Can't really defend yourself when your head is being smashed like a hardboiled egg meeting a hammer.
I had made sure he wouldn't get back up, as blood, shattered pieces of teeth, bone and thicker things pooled along the hardwood floor.
Panting, the butcher knife in my back pocket, I took hold of his ankles and began to drag almost 300 pounds of dead weight down the hall and toward the backyard, where the sliding glass door was still open. Blood and sweat poured from my brow and stung my eyes, but I didn't stop. I heaved that lifeless corpse out into the backyard and somehow managed to toss it into a deep fire pit, just big enough to burn a couple of bodies...
I paused just long enough to grab a can of lighter fluid, a book of matches and a large container of salt. In true Supernatural fashion, I dowsed the corpse in salt, drenched it in lighter fluid and lit a match.
It felt like an eternity had past when the pattering of small feet caught my attention.
The kids led by the teenager gathered around me, peering into the flames.
"Don't worry," My rough tone cut the silence like a gunshot, causing a few of the kids to jump at the sound. "He's not coming back." I stated and felt a small hand touch my left wrist. With a quick glance, I noted the young girl in her dark red footy pajamas. The fire illuminated her big amber hazel eyes like living jewels as her wavy black hair shimmered with hints of red and golden light. I couldn't help but smile as she grasped thumb.
"So we're safe now?" She asked in her tiny voice and I nodded. "Good. Hey, can we make smores?"
I chuckled and went to answer when the teenager spoke. "We cleaned everything up for you." She announced and I blinked impressed eyes at her. "Can we?"
With a shake of my head, I smiled and mused, "sure. Why not?" I looked towards the flames and added, "be a shame to let such a pretty fire go to waste."
"Can they come too?" The little girl motioned the the opposite side of the fire, where the shadows seemed to solidify and take shape. I blinked and was surprised to see that a dozen obsidian nightmares stood across from us, waiting patiently for instruction. "They came when I called for help. They're my friends." The girl said with a bright smile and waved to the Xenos before looking up at me and adding, "pretty please?"
I laughed, "of course they can, babygirl." I replied and looked toward those eyeless faces. "They're my friends, too."
-*-*-
And woke up.
Crazy, huh? Couldn't get it out of my head until I wrote it all down. I gotta say, I do love how my mind works sometimes. I do have some of the most epic dreams.
My question is, if you found yourself in my place, what would you have done?
*grins behind her Nightmare Before Xmas thermos*
And on that note, I must bid thee anon. I have copious amounts of caffeine to ingest before I start getting ready for work.
-Adieu
Night fell like a skeletal hand of secrets, grasping at the lingering streams of daylight, only to toss them aside to make way for the newborn shadows.
I stood alone in my thoughts as a cold breeze weaved along my still form, nature's attempt at a playful game of tag but my mind was elsewhere. Cars became blurred streams of color, racing by with little to no sound, telling me that I was in a dreamscape. A quiet warning that not everything was what it seemed. Painting echoes of reality that would breathe life into a dull background.
An energy unlike that of my surroundings caught my attention and I found myself turning toward the source. A terrible shadow pulsed into existence and rose from the earth like a demon emerging from the gates of hell. Most would be consumed with fear as this living nightmare began slinking towards me, a flash of silver dancing along the obsidian of its curved skull as distant moonlight poured down from the heavens. I should have been afraid, but unlike most, a welcoming smile pulled at my lips as I found myself raising my right hand in greeting.
The terror, now no more than a foot away, crouched before me and placed its eyeless face inches from my offered hand; lips closed, serpentine tail relaxed against the broken pavement as it went still before me.
"Hello, beautiful." I cooed in a gentle tone and ran the palm of my hand along its smooth forehead in greeting, "how's my big girl?"
The creature let out a strange hissing purr and scooted forward, only to bump its head gently against my chest; its clawed hands resting next to my feet as its tail whipped lazily back and forth behind it like a well fed cat.
It's moments like this in dreams, that I feel safe. A frightening thing such as a Xenomorph having become more of a family member, a welcome monster turned-pet by the inner child within. It is there in that endless universe of possibility that I feel whole. When this reality seems too much, I close my eyes and drift into the arms of unconsciousness where I know I'm home.
Gotta random poetic-prose inspired by twisted dreams only I could love.
*smirks and takes a hefty drink of strong coffee from her Nightmare Before Xmas thermos*
It's a beautiful, chilly autumn day as a large Raven continues its annoying chatter on the phone lines no more than thirty feet ahead of me. I roll my eyes and proceed to take a hefty inhale of my new vape; enjoying the the fog that fills my lungs and billows from my nose and lips. Grateful that I'm finally able to do so, no longer having the desire to light a cigarette. It's been almost a week since my last one, and I don't intend to have another. This is something I've been looking forward to for a very long time. No longer filling my lungs with toxins, nor smelling like a walking ashtray. I feel a sense of relief and accomplishment because of it. Definitely money well spent.
I feel better in general, having landed a job that inables me to not only have the means to do so, but allows me to be myself. I am so very fortunate and grateful to have found work that feels more like a second home. As of right now, I only work three days a week. I intend to snag a second job so I can start to properly work on my Ellie, who I know misses being driven.
As the days draw closer to the holidays, I'm reminded of the recent year of being lost. It is a painful reminder of how quickly things change.
I have been reluctant in admitting that precious items were not only stolen from me, but that a very important piece of my faire garb that I had spent years building, had been sold without my knowledge.
My belt, with my replica gun, alien blade, my pouch and a few personal items I can never replace, that were memorial pieces of people I've lost... Was sold for 20 dollars, simply out of spite.
My sword, a Jack Sparrow replica my Father used to oil for me, was stolen.
I am left with only my hats, a small dagger and a few buttons here and there. Everything else will have to be replaced.
It hurts that I spent years building my belt, memories of Lory in those pieces, taken from me because that... Person, did it to 'teach me a lesson'. The same person who kicked me out of my own apartment, threatened to throw what little I had out onto the street before I even had a chance to move in.
*let's out a heavy sigh and shakes her head*
I digress. I'm in a better place now after everything I've experienced since last year around this time. Somehow I'm back in San Pedro. My home by the sea. I have my Eleanore and she's safe. That's all that really matters.
I think, for now...I'll end it here, before I let myself think too long on the betrayal of someone who I had called 'friend'. Someone who I thought better of. Only to learn that I was just a thing to be discarded.
People are never who they say they are.
Be careful of who you allow into your life. Always remember; a genuine face generally comes attached to liars.
And on that note, I think I'll watch a horror movie on my phone via Netflix.
-Anon
