March 26th, 2003

In Dreams

Bible stories that don't exist and other empty rooms.

I was in this play.. sort of. A recording, more like. A long Bible story, or many strung together. It was being made by various World Serpent peeps. The entire thing was acted out on an enormous, realistic set, with cell phones for mics. (Although no one was seeing it besides the actors.) I was one of 2 or 3 angels who were stripped of identity for failure to guard some important angel or other. (Lost our names and some semblance of soul and recognition.) Boyd rubbed his phone across stubble as a sound effect as he made a scary voice. (He was narrating.) Everything with sound was done ghetto into our phones, but the physical part was real and grand. This all transformed out of a prior dream about living as an addendum in another family's home. I ran out to see about some trouble and suddenly the looking was in the context of tracking down those troublesome angels through a network of underground tunnels and rooms with broken doors which were supposed to be locked. (Not fast enough, little angel.) What had I run out to find? A small broken part of a pen with murderous vengeance on it's mind I'd accidentally freed from its desk drawer prison. Seriously. (Well, I jimmied the drawer open with a nailfile. But it was sort of an accident.)
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Wizsock

(no subject)

People who walk around shouting into their cellphones are nature's clowns.
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