drugs, bullets, universe and rope’s theory

i have disreputable dreams. Dreams telling me about the world ending, making black holes of my nights. Telling me about this loneliness moment preceding the Big Bang. Thousands of dreams. i dreamed about the world beginning. Somebody said that before the Big Bang the universe wasn’t bigger than a needle’s tip. in my dream, He is standing there with a needle’s tip containing the universe in His arm, deaf, unloved, and lonely.
in His hand, an Intratec AB-10 9mm semi-automatic. i see Him putting the gun to His temple, He look at me in slow motion, before the time existed, the needle’s tip in the arm, He look at me before He press on the trigger. Universe explode BIG BANG in the red of the darkroom.

Then after it, the universe changes, galaxy, nebulas, dinosaurs, ice age, stone age, and lifesick superstars who want to create, who want to be the center of the world, and my dream restart, superstars with needle’s tip in their arms, and they look at me while putting the guns in their mouths, the universe explode again and everything’s the same, galaxy, blue herbs, blue eyes of a God, fishs getting out of the water, discovery of fire, wheel, loneliness, telescope, relativity, rope’s theory, rope around the neck, nuclear bombs, the universe explode again and again and again until my bed become flood with sweat, my sheets become snakes, my pillow become quicksands and my room is a cold black hole. And everythig restarts.
i wake up with a start hearing another shot, i wake up in the black of my room, not really a black hole, i realize it when i switch the light with panic. My damp sheets makes me suffocate like a rope around the neck, like an unloved snake. Panic. i often wake up like that. Empty, like swallowed by a vacuum cleaner, like aborted. The light is turned on and my heart is rotten. i am afraid. i look in the medecine cabinet for a bottle of sleeping pills. i am nothing but a chemical equation. And so the dreams start again but i am too high to remember it.

I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR LOST BULLETS. THE UNIVERSE DIES IN MY NEEDLE.

By BLiND_DaGNeY

blehh. i dunno, ask me if it really bother you.

6 comments

  1. thats great, i love it. Dreams mean a lot, i dont base my life on them but they do mean a lot.

  2. i don’t know. they did that to one of mine too.

    love the way you let it flow. it adds to the confusion of the post.

  3. That shit was pretty deep.
    The grammar sucked, still, I loved it.

  4. You just described the realms of my mind better than I could’ve.

  5. thanks, and i’m sorry for the grammar, english is not my first language as i said before, i’m a french canadian.

    D. xxx

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