vicarz | (no subject)

I've been taking control of this really weird series of dreams as my sleep patterns so suck right now. I keep getting that lovely land inbetween, the conscious thinking but inability to move - the kind of thing that morons mistake for alien abduction. "I can't move my arms!" Lately I've learned to relax in these dreams, and just see where they go for entertainment. A series of them has had me recognizing that I am in a hospital. I was being asked to flex my hand, my foot, and was trying but was unsure if they detected a response as I couldn't feel. I could feel their needles, however. The nurses mentioned something about blood poisoning.

That's a cool theory. I was in a wreck that should have killed me, about 15 years ago in my mind. Perhaps like in the movie Jacob's Ladder, I'm really just dead or near-dead. My mind has created this world for some sort of closure before I finally let go. Or perhaps I'm just being shown what my life could have been like if I hadn' been such a shit, and this is the series of thoughts that will torture me in hell - a hell created by me for me. Yeah. The cool part is that you people don't exist. I'm talking to myself, playing with myself, writing only in my mind...sure that sucks, but you don't even exist. When I cease to be, you will cease to exist - and you only exist as some sort of masturbation material for me. Enjoy your fleeting existence, mental peasants!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The cool part is that you people don't exist. I'm talking to myself, playing with myself, writing only in my mind...sure that sucks, but you don't even exist. When I cease to be, you will cease to exist - and you only exist as some sort of masturbation material for me. Enjoy your fleeting existence, mental peasants!

So, if I key your car out of sight of you, you secretly, subconsciously wanted me to key your car?

What if I just tell you I did it, but didn't really?

Do you secretly want your car marred?

Dude, that's whack. You should seek some help from -- wait. You're the only one here, we're all figments. So you'll never truly get any psychological help for your deep-rooted car keying issues.

Which don't really exist, anyway.

Therefore, your car probably doesn't exist either, or only exists when you can see it.

Next time, you should look at the car, look at the scratch, look away, tell yourself very firmly that the scratch isn't there, and then look back and see if you could undo what I did.

Or didn't do.

Cause I didn't do it.

Maybe.

Or maybe not. (That would be "maybe not I didn't do it.") Can you afford the not knowing?

Larks!

CU

Jacobs ladder meets the matrix? See, I create my own misfortune as the human mind needs stimulation. Constant pleasure is horrible, and in periods of sensory deprivation people have horrible hallucinations, as though the mind needs the entertainment even if it is negative.

I've just discovered the reason for the existence of evil, again.

I keep getting that lovely land inbetween, the conscious thinking but inability to move - the kind of thing that morons mistake for alien abduction. "I can't move my arms!"

Gotta love sleep paralysis...