Angel of Death

I will nibble on your brains...

New Old Guestbook Web Site Profile

Keeping the dream alive for one more entry - 2008-05-20
it still lives... barely. - 2007-02-21
Moved - 2006-11-22
*beep* the AoD is no longer at this number, but will still be receiving messages for a bit... - 2006-11-08
Vote for the one you hate the least - 2006-11-07
Diaryland
Recommend Me
Read Others

2006-10-03 - 10:17 a.m.

Brain, what are you up to now? About seven inches, Pinky.

More about ghosts. I watched (well, mostly watched) the remake of "The Amityville Horror", which, though rated PG-13, is still somewhat more gruesome than the '70s version. Okay, a *lot* more gruesome, as the '70s version was boooo-ring. This one has a lot more blood and people (and house) dripping goo (always a crowd favourite). But even with all the hauntings and goo, I have to say that if *I* found a house that large and cheap on the river, I'd happily move in and manage the goo with my trusty Mr. Clean Magic Eraser sponge[tm]. Despite any latent desire to be all sensitive and special and able to see beyond the spooky, spooky veil that separates the living from the dead-but-still-somewhat-pissed-off, I don't.

I'm actually kind of cool with that, since my imagination is active enough without any paranormal help. I mean, I really don't need any spectral shapes appearing behind me when I'm pulling my car out in the dark of the early morning; I'm jumpy enough as it is, expecting the zombies to come shambling out of the bushes any minute.

When we bought the farmhouse, I wasn't familiar enough with the surroundings to be absolutely comfortable sleeping there, and tended to have dreams about an old man leaning over the bed. I'd interpret that to mean something scary, except that I regularly have dreams so vivid and weird that I wake up and have to spend a few seconds bringing myself back to reality.

For instance, I recently had a dream about a Laurel ceremony I was organizing in a castle, with no worthies, but including six people dressed like advertising icons (I don't remember if they were real ones, but I do remember a leprechaun of some sort) all holding hamburgers made up to look like past U.S. Presidents (Teddy Roosevelt had a ketchup mustache). The ceremony took two hours before the candidate was even called up, and then Cuan ate all the hamburgers.

Grab some deep interpretation out of that, I dare you. The only thing that reassured me when I woke up was that I'd *never* make anyone sit through a two-hour award ceremony. The hamburgers maybe, the advertising icons quite probably, but two hours? No way. Besides, I get bored after ten minutes or so - I'd fall asleep.

So, not so good on the sensing the paranormal part, and the whole interpreting dreams as paranormal is clearly quite beyond me. I really do *love* the idea of it all, though- along with radioactive mutants, zombies, and aliens with dreadlocks and cool futuristic weapons. The supernatural is *fun*. I've always loved experiencing new things, and the idea that there's stuff to be sensed beyond the usual five senses is really cool to me. I realize that there are some people who aren't as enamoured of the concept, and the only advice I can give is not to listen to me when I start rambling on abut my dreams.

Oops. I probably should have told you that at the beginning of the entry.

Dorsal - Ventral

Funnier than me: James Lileks

disclaimer!

all words copyright Laura Mellin 2000-2005


Diarist.net!

Designed by Gen