...browsing through conceptart.org i managed to stumble onto a photo manipulation topic which had images of this dude doing some crazy back flips, flying kicks and all sorts of cool little acrobatics. basically, everyone was more interested in how he was doing it than the actual photos and of course so was i... here's the site, check out the vids, blog. i so want to be a ninja.
dude, blog, i had another dream. Not only did i have a dream but i remembered it when i woke up. cool, huh? it was very wierd and throughout the dream there was no real progression, it sort of just overlapped. it was like the information and the images all hit me at once and as i deciphered images and pieced events together the story became more clear. It was like you were looking at a bunch of slides stacked ontop of eachother...you can see all the images but none of it makes sense because everything is blurred together. since there is no real way for me to type like that i'll try to give more of a progressive story to help with the flow.
Day 1 of any class, whether it were High School or any of my University classes, i usually am one of the first ones there. That is just the way i roll. I don't think i've ever showed up to class the first day, late. So anyways i grab a desk, socially far enough away from the unfamiliar faces allready seated and yet not in the back corner, loner style. Then i wait...and wonder if any attractive girls will sit near me or even better, next to me. This wouldn't even happen in a perfect world. However...
The time is now. I'm floating about in some kind of class room, looking for a seat. I grab a chair and slide it away from the desk, just as i see a back pack sitting on it...i appologize to no one and step back. I walk closer to the front of the room where two gigantic, giggling girls crowd the empty seat between the two. "uh...no thanks." i keep looking. Another open seat grabs me and draws me toward it, just as someone infront of me touches the no-longer-available-chair. Now I'm the guy that can't find a seat. I get that rush of blood to my face. I wonder if its bright red...no one even notices me but everyone is looking at me, I'm sure of it. This eruption of emotion over something so rediculous..."very sad, gavin...pathetic". i suck it up and head to the big twins. i'm actualy going to have to say "excuse me" before i can pull the chair out because her..uh..'excess' is consuming the not so empty chair next to her. "ugh." I pull another slide away...a new image is revealed. This one of a strange looking man reaching out to me. strange..."what is strange?" What struck me most were the eyes. They looked twisted and unfocused, almost as if each were acting independently. His eye brows tilted in with wrinkles from brow to hair line. His jaw was tight and yet shifted a few notches to the left. His lower lip puckered out a bit, but only a portion of it, like he was sucking in on the rest of it. I steam of drool seeeped down his rough chin. I'm sorry that i keep saying "his" to describe this man...His name is in my head but i can't hold onto it long enough. Maybe it will come to me later on. Now i can see fingernails slashing the air infront of me. they are disgusting, uncut, twisting about. each rotting worse than the other, like that ingrown toe nail you once had. The smell of feces rapes the air around me and now i can see the knobby knuckles that belong to these forgotten nails. so cold and violent, the air shakes as these small monsters slash and tear toward...Here is where the angle of the scene shifts and i see myself on the recieving end. I can see a younger version of myself floating back, away from the hands, into what looks like metal trash cans. There is darkness surrounding my 'stop-motion images' and so nothing is very clear. some kind of awkward darkness because the action infront of me is bright and out of focus. the hands and the face are all i can decipher. i can see myself, hands on the ground, supporting myself. My back to the ground. it seems as if im dragging my legs, they dont seem to be moving. Now i can actually feel the cold hard concrete of the road i appear to be on. There is a blue blur behind all the action. the blue seems to sway back and forth, in and out of context as if out of control. As the action progresses, my body scrambes backwards, crashing into trash cans and darkness. i hear glass shatter and metal containers slamming into something unmovable. I feel pain in my hands, sharp and metallic. The confused face and the disguting hands crash down on top of me. I see myself scream, my jaw opens and my eyes clench tight, but i hear nothing. My fists beat down against the attacker, my adrenaline pumps like a flurry of rage through my blood and yet i see myself do nothing to slow or stop the monster's offense. Soon the blue blur over takes me and everything stops. Just as the blue begins to form human figures, something slips into my view. I see nothing now, just black emptyness...and then a faint ringing...too subtle to be sure, maybe a siren...and all at once i hear hundreds of voices, loud, like a concert. I can't make out anything, it all seems to fast, too loud. as the sound progresses i begin to realize the voices are sped up. like someone hit the fast forward button. Really fast too, not just 2x more like 10x. the sound seems to reach a peak and thent starts to fade out. as it fades away, the voices slow down as well. just before it becomes silent again, i hear, "ing to be okay. He will be locked up forev"
Before my mind could do anything, everything around me insantly explodes with light. i become conscious of myself. By the time my eyes adjust to the light it's too late, im hit on the left and something tumbles out of my arms just as I catch my balance on something about hip level. PSHC 101. i reach down and pick up the book. my hand leaves the desk with a slowly evaporating, sweaty imprint. a budwieser shirt to my left says something, i think he may have said sorry. Now, even more nervous of my situation i see that the desk next to the one with my hand print is open. i throw my book on it and without looking away from it stumble past the first desk and into mine.
Here is were the memory becomes an issue. I think someone took sissors to this part of the dream because a big chunk is missing. I do feel conscious of myself. The next scene is as follows.
It's a "special" day today. Atleast that's what the whisperings around me hint at...A poster up at the front of the room says, "You are Special!" It must be true, in which case everday is a special day. I turn and see Sarah looking at me. I smile as we both awkwardly look away. "geez...she's gorgeous." I've never really said anything to her, never had the balls. However, in my head, we're very freindly and talk all the time. "I'm worthless..." Finnaly, the professor rings her stupid little bell, like usual. Her tactic for getting the class' 'attention'. "We have a 'special' guest today, if everyone could quiet down, I can introduce him." she spoke. She waited, the noise level didn't really change so she went on with the introduction. A man walked into the room and as she pointed toward him she said, "Thomas Wagner is here today from Ristlim Psychiatric Ward in Carlsville. We've had many doctors and psychiatrists come and talk with you all and so I thought it would be beneficial to hear from someone a little different. Mr. Wagner is not a doctor nor a psychiatrist. He is infact, a patient." An icy silence struck the room. Everyone became very silent. I swallowed hard as i noticed the 2 guards standing in the doorway dressed in white jumpsuits. My eyes then darted to the man standing next to the professor...
His suit was brown and looked cheap. His tie didn't match and was tied wrong, like he was too stuborn to get help. His face looked soft and peacefull but, something looked odd about the structure, like it was crooked. I'm sure he was levitating with the amount of drugs they prolly pumped into him. I reached for my glasses as he shuffled to the podium. One leg seemed to kick the other leg in the heal after each step. I slid the glasses onto my ears just as Thomas Wagner reached for the mic with both hands to pull it close to his face. He giggled as loud popping sounds bellowed out of the speakers from his hands clutching the mic. Some guys in the back didn't hold back their laughter. "he-hello professor and he-hello class, thank you for ha-having me here today." His voice was a little stuttery but otherwise he sounded perfect. He paused, closed his eyes and shook his head from side to side as he let out a giant sneeze. It landed right ontop of the mic, including a small blob of saliva. The boom rocked the lecture hall and everyone burst out laughing. Thomas didn't even seem to care and he regripped the mic with both hands and began again, "hello professor and he-hello class, thank you for ha-having me he-here today." Then he took one hand off and waved at the professor and then at us with a big smile on his face. It was here that i noticed something funny about his eyes. One eye, his right eye, looked out at the class as he waved but the other was looking down. Infact, his left eye never really moved. "I would like to talk to the class today about the life i am ha-having at my h-home." Big smile. Crazy eye still motionless. I don't have any idea why but after noticing this my skin started to itch. First, flicked off a spider that wasn't crawling up my leg and then one that wasn't on my arm. My skin tightened and tiny itchings began spreading all over. I scratch my arm and another annoyance pops up on my back. "What the hell..." I scratch and see Thomas prepare for another sneeze, shaking his head violently and then bam. The class erupts in laughter again. "Stop scratching. It's in your head, just stop..."