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 ARCHIVE: Dirty Old Town, once upon a time, a rainy night in Soho

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Join date : 2010-02-05

ARCHIVE: Dirty Old Town, once upon a time, a rainy night in Soho Empty
PostSubject: ARCHIVE: Dirty Old Town, once upon a time, a rainy night in Soho   ARCHIVE: Dirty Old Town, once upon a time, a rainy night in Soho EmptyFri Nov 19, 2010 9:02 am

By Faddewr Jun 6 2008 -

Years ago, I had a dream.

I'm flying, wings on my back. Large wings. Many wings. I'm flapping them slowly, as if in a daze. And I'm flying above my town at night. I see a child sitting on a curbside near a health-plaza. Mechanically, I begin a descenting loop towards him. And soon I land near him. He is me, when I was younger. He had with him a little handbag. I was much larger than I really as the time, so picking up the younger me and his little bag was easy. He felt very light. The bag, however, had some heft to it.

I flew him a long way, and we flew above the night, into a sunny, partly cloudy sky. The clouds played familiar scenes and images spanning multiple existences, lifetimes, and stages of life.

We landed on a rocky shore where there was a mist, and the sky was overcast.

And there were seagulls.

Everywhere.

I escorted him to a small shack, it was a broken down shack, but not totally delapidated.

When I opened the door to the shack, the little boy dissappeared. But I was left with his bag. Inside the shack was one hallway straight to the other door. And the walls were lined with cages of seagulls.

There were mirrors behind the cages, and I got a good look at myself in them.

I was dressed like a transient. My face wrapped in scarves and cloths, my hands adorned with tattered gloves. All of my clothes looked mis-matched.

At the other side of the hall way was an old man. Heavy-set, worn face, snow white hair, snow white tank top, snow white short-sleeved dress shirt, and brown slacks with nice shoes. He was taller than me, larger than me. We looked at each other, but never spoke.

The old man turned around after a while and went out the door behind him. I followed with bag in hand. On the other side ofthe house was still the rock short, but there was a small coniferous tree, and tide pools. I looked at the old man to my left. Dropped the bag, and took flight again.

Second star to the right, straight on 'til morning.



By Azaz'el Jun 6 2008 -

Thank you for sharing that Faddewr ........... what does it mean to you?

Az


By Faddewr Jun 6 2008 -

Easy.

Me escorting myself to another stage of life.


By Ishtahar Jun 7 2008 -

Could be, could well be. Think of what you did with the heavy bag too, I get the feeling that is a very important part of it


By Faddewr Jul 25 2008 -

Me oh my, what dreams may come.

Without a paddle

I had this dream years ago.

It takes place in a sacred place. Everything just felt sacred. The sky was pearlish red with magenta clouds, and the water was pinkish blue, the river flowed steadily, devoid of fallen trees or boulders. A River to the Ocean.

Black Elk and I were in a canoe, but the famed Sioux Holyman was dressed in more modern attire. A black leather jacket, jeans, sneakers. But his accessories spoke of his shamanic nature; feather tied into his hair, and bones around his neck like teeth, claws, and ribs.

He was paddling, I was merely observing. Effortlessly, the medicene man moved the canoe through the river until we came to a place where the river became incomprehensibly wide, dotted with islands of ash trees with red leaves.

Heaven's trees, adorned with the color of the gods. He took me to an island, a large one, where the river was shallow, he showed me to an island where the ash trees gave way to oak trees. I got out of the canoe and waded ashore while he turned the canoe around and went back. I only had a cell phone with me, it didn't work. I could only hear disembodied voices with it. But I moved deeper into the oak trees, where I had to out manuver dinosaurs. I kept moving until I came to a strange camp, where people seemed to be in training. Something with, "Art of the Magick Arrow". After studying with them for a while, I moved further inland and met a wolf who accompanied me until I came to a meadow of beautiful flowers.

Oddly, the cellphone's disembodied voices got louder and louder here. Like the speakers were all around me. Soon a blinding light came from the flowers in the field, and I was encompassed by it.

Then woke up


Crowley

It begins with a visitation by tall men in red robes, they were all masked and hooded, except one, Aleister Crowley.

He and the hooded figures had come to escort me to the Temple. And soon after a brief flight, we were a massive Arabian-esque chamber where Four Eyes was waiting, tall as the hooded men, and also in a red robe.

Crowley speaks to me, telling to me to awaken to my nature as a Master of the Temple, a title Four Eyes had achieved in a previous existence. And upon learning this, Four eyes vanishes and and I am clad in his red robe.

Then the temple dissappears into darkness and three trials begin.

The first trial, I am locked in my garage with a crocodile. And for hours I wrestle with it, as it sinks it's teeth into my torso and arms. Cutting and scarring me. Until I was finally able to escape the garage and get into my car. Driving to the next trial.

The second trial is an endless highway, with infinite obstructions. Thanks to my ability to recognize this as a dream, I was able to navigate this safely. Driving to the third trial.

The third trials take place in the desert, at a construction site, ninja-like entities swarm around me and I have to defeat them. Again, thanks to lucid-dream-powered ability, I defeated them. Passing all three trials.

Then I woke.
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