PJ's Personal Archives
Journal Excerpt [black triangle]
At first I had the oddest feeling, as if the room was vibrating slowly, as if even the fabric of solid objects were also vibrating, and a very, very low tone seemed to accompany this. I was lying on my bed on my stomach, reading, and after a few moments I finally took notice of it, looked up and wondered, Is that me? Is this my imagination? Is there some machine on nearby? I could feel it both in my head and in my body, as if the inside of my house, both objects and me, were slowly pulsing.
I sat up, wondrous. I could feel it running through me and around me. The cycle was about once every 1.5 seconds or so.
I got up and went into the kitchen, but it was the same there. I walked back to my bed. As it seemed to get stronger, I decided it was pretty darn tangible and although pretty weird, felt strange yet neat. I put my book on the bedside table. My head was growing fuzzy, and so I climbed under the blankets, and (I guess) went to sleep.
When I suddenly became aware of myself I was standing beside a curtain, off to the edge of a stage, in front. I had a certain number of "knowings:" a group of individuals were planning to put on a show for a bunch of people. They had designed it specifically to make an impression on the people, who seemed almost random sorts that were filing in. My job, I felt, was just standing around, preparing to open the curtain, and in particular "to be seen." I wasn't sure why.
I was slightly confused about where I was, but told myself, Well you were doing ok this far, maybe it's a lucid dream, so just go with the flow until you figure it out. People of all sorts filed into the "theater" and I finally felt it was appropriate (I sensed a person in charge telling me, but not in words) to open the curtains, which revealed a big screen. The lights in the room dimmed and onto the screen came a number of images that made the crowd laugh, gasp with awe and seem very impressed. I was standing beside the screen, so I couldn't see what they were reacting to.
Eventually there was what seemed like an intermission, some people left and new ones came. I was bored, since I couldn't see the screen, tired of standing there, and wanted to see what was outside. I was seized by this desire to know, where was I, anyway? So toward the end of the break, when all people had been seated but a few, I was walking up an aisle toward the door.
I passed people coming down to sit, including one particular woman of maybe 35 or so. I noticed while walking past that she was dressed very nicely. A few people later, farther up, I passed another woman, a different woman, who for a brief second flickered into the first lady, then back. I stopped and she stopped. We looked at each other blankly. I was trying to figure out what the heck just happened, and I thought, Well this has to be a dream, and you know, weird things can happen in dreams.
But she had this look on her face of the utmost bewilderment. She looked blank and scared. I felt sorry for her, and was immediately distracted, and I said Here, I can find you a seat down front, and she being so confused, let me lead her like a child, and went with me back toward the stage. About three rows up from the front, she flickered into the other woman again, and back. This time the other woman saw it happen -- she was sitting nearby and she gasped. I turned to look at her, and noticed that a few other people had seen it happen as well. So it isn't just me!, I thought. I had the impression everybody assumed it was a 'magic trick', along the lines of whatever amazing things had been on the screen.
But I sensed that the "main guy" behind the screen, the chief who was running the show, hadn't wanted me to interact with any of the people, but in fact just wanted me to be seen, I had the impression because I was a calming presence. I could sense he was angry at me for leaving my post, let alone interacting, and he most definitely did not want me to go outside and figure out where we were -- like my obvious lucidity made that a critical concern of his. I had the feeling he was somehow distracting me, like no matter what it took, I wasn't going to go outside and investigate.
The woman was standing in the aisle, a few rows up from the stage area, facing the screen; I was standing a couple of rows nearer the front, facing her. (We had stopped and looked around when we'd heard people gasp.) With a look of horror, she put her hands to her face as her face began to melt, to morph, to change. Slowly.
As it warped, it was clear her physical bone structure and everything was changing. The look on her face, visible through the bizarre shape changes, was one of agony, of horror. And as her face warped into a caricature of her own, she let out this high pitched, very weird scream and turned a bit; most of the audience, waiting expectantly for the show to resume, looked at her, and her face warping and her shrill animal sound caused an almost immediate riot -- other people began screaming, shouting, and people began running up the aisles to get away, and all but crawling over other people to get past them and out. It was as if they weren't comfortable to begin with, but that did it, they were scared now!
I could sense that the 'main guy' was ticked off that his audience was freaking out, but it was too late to do anything about it, and so he was determined to "show me" how lethal he was on this lady. It was like he decided my behavior being brought into line was more important than that one show he was putting on. He would rather have carried out his original plan, but now he was bleak, dark, and intent on teaching me about unquestioning obedience.
People continued leaving the theater as fast as they could. I felt the person doing this to the woman was now solely focused on me and her -- he was enjoying the fear and torment he was providing her, but enjoying even more the horror it gave me. More importantly, he was very specifically making a point with me, I could feel it. It was almost in regular words, and it said: You aren't safe from me, I can find you anywhere. Along with that was a secondary theme, which said, How dare you disobey!
It was my bad luck, I suppose, that the torment had to be on another person instead of me. I would rather it be on me. I had the feeling that he knew that, and knew I was controllable because I would do almost anything to keep him from torturing someone.
Clutching her head she fell to the ground, and her whole body began warping, "morphing," not just her face. The agony she was in was apparent to me and I was horrified, and resentful of the guy in charge for doing it to her. I was so very confused, and so scared. I knelt down next to her as she moaned and writhed mindlessly on the floor. I felt so helpless. Into my mind came actual words from the man in charge: Watch closely. I obeyed, and stared at her face as it warped into a dozen different images, caricatures all, and finally warped into Odo, that shapeshifting creature on the Star Trek show, but exaggerated, and I felt the grim humor of the guy doing this as he chose that one to make the point. He thought it was rather morbidly comical.
Then it finally changed back to her own face, her eyes wide with shock and fear, her skin pallid as a corpse. A fresh look of horror crossed her features as this black spot, blacker than blackness itself, appeared in her forehead... it was a tiny dot, but it seemed to turn around and around, and it got larger until it became apparent that it was a black triangle, a 3-D triangle like a three sided pyramid, right in the center of her forehead. And it grew until it was large in her forehead, as her pupils dilated so much her eyes became completely black, and I don't know if she could see me, but she turned her head directly toward me and said softly, with a bizarre sort of calm, I knew I was going to die tonight.
And with that, the turning black triangle swiftly grew until she was swallowed up by the most literal nothingness I can imagine, and she was gone, and it was gone, and I was kneeling in the aisle still in shock, and alone.
The attention of the guy in charge turned to me, and I had the impression he liked the horror all this invoked in me, as if he felt this would make me behave now. But whether it was a dream or not, I was fully aware of what was going on, and I believed that somehow, a person from somewhere had really just died, that he had killed them just to punish me -- to teach and scare me -- and it terrified me.
I jumped up and dashed for the door to get away. He reacted immediately, and the building seemed to move; by the time I reached the open door, the ground outside was halfway up the doorway, as if the whole building were sinking down into the earth. I threw myself upward and scrambled out as the building continued to move downward, barely missing getting totally squashed and split in half between the flat ground and the top of the doorway.
I felt his anger, and though I had the impression he didn't have quite as much control or threat over me as he wanted now that I was outside, still I kept running. I was on some kind of hill outside, in the midst of other hills, they seemed like the standard Southern California type, rolling hills of mostly wheat-colored grass. I seemed alone; I didn't see any of the people who had run out earlier.
I ran downward, a little to the side to get out of sight of the building (which was, I gathered without looking behind me, just about totally underground by now). As I rounded the hill I saw a thin road was nearby, and I ran to it and began walking down it, tired even from the short run, breathing hard, my heart pounding as much from fear as the running.
Shortly the road turned round the hill and I found a parking lot, with some kind of building off beside it, I couldn't tell if it was some kind of utility place or what. I didn't spend much time looking at anything because back the way of the main building, but off to the side about a quarter of a mile, on another hill was another building with a parking area; and in the distance I could see there was a flashing siren type light, there seemed to be some situation over there with a couple of police cars. The need to get away reinforced itself.
I saw this big truck, a rig but with only one trailer, sitting parked over to the edge of the lot I was in, and I decided to hide inside it, as there was no cover anywhere else. Hoping the passenger door was unlocked, I jumped up on the step of the truck and pulled the door open, only to scare the begeezus out of a big fellow who was starting it just as I jumped in. He shouted "Aaauugh!," and I hastily shouted back, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, please, can we get out of here?" He had the weirdest look on his face. He was really afraid of something, the kind of serious terror most people never get, I didn't know of what, but he was really scared, and even scared of me. I said, "Don't be scared of me, please, I'm scared too, I just want to get out of here!"
And so trembling and still scared, he finished starting the truck and I sighed with near escape relief, somehow knowing that for the moment at least, I was ok. I remember as we drove (rather slowly) down the hill, a fairly gradual, long and twisty kind of road, it became dark (early night) and I could see the lights of a city below. My memory ends there.
I didn't know what to make of that one. Even regular dreams where someone was "out to get me," the average bad dream of childhood I suppose, hadn't happened with me in so many years I was startled by the very idea. I should mention one notable thing: I was surrounded by what I can only call "a thick dread." Not just emotionally, but even physically, as if it were a vibration itself affecting my body and my psychology. I'd had only one dream like that before, the "morphing terminator dream," and -- funny, I didn't notice until just now, writing this! -- morphing was involved in both of them. And "big rig" trucks. Hmmn. What an odd combination.
I wasn't sure, on thinking about this the next day, if that low pitched, slow vibration that seemed to affect the whole house had created some physiological effect that translated to dread and gave me such a strange and horrible dream. Was it a dream? It had to be. It wasn't the first (and wasn't to be the last) time I had felt so physical as to be limited, tired and sore, by being out of shape, and those symptoms often continued for the next couple of days, as if it were physical... part of me felt I'd "really been" somewhere, and the vibration somehow helped get me there... like the feeling I often had that I'd been "split in half" and was physical in two places at the same time... but that made no sense, so I decided to consider it just a dream and skip the more bizarre interpretations.
One thing I did feel clearly: I felt that a woman had really died. That even though it obviously had to be a dream, fine, then somewhere else, a woman had been having a dream and was there with me, in the same dream, and she had really died. It was illogical, superstitious, but I really believed it. And it really upset me.
As for "the bad guy," I just had the impression that he or his group had some terrific ability, and some plot for using it that escaped any "why" I could personally come up with.
The more I thought about this, the more I concluded that I must be getting paranoid. I didn't feel paranoid, but I was acting mildly obsessive (though not about anything in particular), which is related to paranoia, and I had to admit I had no reason to be. But the whole scenario I was describing sounded like something that people wearing tinfoil over their head and stocking M16's in their basement would come up with.
So for my own good I decided to ignore it and let it go.
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