Dreamscapes

When I dream, they're mostly nightmares. I rather enjoy them though.  Looking at my preferences for movies, tv series and books, it's no wonder. My nightmares almost always involve some sort of supernatural going-ons in a desolate shopping mall. A siege of humans versus vampires, lycans or zombies.

When the lads and lass of In Each Hand A Cutlass put out a two-track EP and titled it 'Forgetting', I didn't check it out till recently. The two tracks are named 'All We Are Left With Is A Memory Of A Memory' and 'Appetite for Dysfunction'. One could choreograph a contemporary dance piece to each, giving it whichever interpretation one chooses. As I listened, images rose unbidden. I strove to remember them, and willed the subconscious to dream about it in the night. To my great delight, my mind framed out a story that ran like a movie. They involve a simple storyline, gory murders and a lot of insane giggling.

The quiet start of this song. 'All We Are Left With Is A Memory Of A Memory'. Makes me think of a walk through the enchanted woods, full of swirling fog and will-o'-the-wisps. I'll eventually come across this dilapidated mansion and push the creaky hinges of the front door to explore its alluring interiors. 

Then the song slowly shifts to a crescendo and its final intensity. The mansion will be filled full of creepy dolls whose eyes follow my every movement, and whose heads I hack off with two katanas. I determinedly kick the bodies down the stairs to a pile at grand foyer with its swinging chandelier, walk out and set fire to the mansion. With grim satisfaction, I watch it burrrrn. In the roar of the inferno, one could hear faint screams fill the darkness.

The next song is 'Appetite for Dysfunction'. The mind continues the nightmare. Let's call it the 'revenge of the dolls'. From the burning mansion, the dolls rise. Those whose heads escaped the hacking and the fire come after me like evil tendrils. I flee through the woods, branches whipping my face, the undergrowth protesting at the rampage of human and inhuman dolls. In a clearing, I stop and bow low to catch my breath. Then grip both katanas tight, face the dolls and fight. It's an elegant fight. Both sides possessing supernatural strength that doesn't seem to dissipate. Till almost sunrise, the dolls weaken. The sun rises, bestowing warm light through the trees. The dolls burst into flames. I win.  

I awoke feeling...exhilarated. It wasn't difficult recalling this dream. Scrambled for a pen and paper to write it down. Then I listened to the songs again to the remembered dream and cackled merrily. Well. What can I say? This is definitely withdrawal syndrome- from watching too much of 'American Horror Story' and finishing up Season Four.