So last night after eating entirely too much home made chicken noodle soup for my birthday dinner. I dreamed of being at a Joe Satriani concert and some chick was standing nearby and her cell phone kept going off. The song she had playing for her text alert was so massively & violently discordant that the very fabric of reality itself torn and through the gaping rift in our space-time continuum the daemons poured...They came by the billions, ripping and tearing everything in sight, they killed me right away and I hovered there, a blood-encrusted wraith watching the ebon-clawed, glowing-eyed daemons destroy the earth one foul inhabitant at a time.
That old bullshit about not being able to die in your dream without dying in real life doesn't work on me by the way... it never has since more of my dreams start off with the apocalypse and then go from there... I have died in my dreams since I was 17 years old... so for the last 23 years I have been killed and maimed and butchered and burned to a crisp thousands of times, my ghost... my soul whatever it is always remains to witness the final destruction of mankind.
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