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I like to dream. As boring and simple that statement might seem, my passion for dreaming is quite strong and powerful. I really have no idea what triggers my interest for dreaming. I'm pretty sure my social status has something to do with it. No one really likes me. My parents are an exception, I suppose. Considering the fact that I've been shunned and insulted by every member of the student body at school, I resort to sleep to escape the reality of shit that I'm currently residing in.
Just like every other individual that has a fiery passion towards dreaming, I keep a dream journal next to me at all times while I rest. It helps me remember. It's Like a vigorous work out session for my brain. I've actually been working on this little side project, well, I wouldn't call it a side project, more like a new goal in life. This "project" that I'm working on is called, "Cloud Nine".
From what I've heard, Cloud Nine is some term to describe legitimate happiness and peace or some shit like that. So that's exactly what I'm birthing in my mind. A dream world of complete euphoria and inner peace. I am creating my own utopia. I am creating Cloud Nine.
I have been working on Cloud Nine for the past two months as of today. Whenever I sleep, I envision my notebook in my hands, I create new details of the dream world, and then I jot them down in my subconscious notebook. When I awake from my dream, I remember the details I locked into my mind, and then I write them down in my ACTUAL dream journal.
March 16, 2013. 9:32 AM
Cloud Nine is in tip top shape. Details are exactly how I left them on the 14th. Rubber buildings are intact. Bonsai Trees are progressing throughout the landscape. No living organisms populate Cloud Nine except me.
New details added: Green sky in the daytime; Red Sky in the evening; Purple Sky after Midnight.
Noticeable flaws: The crops in The Fields of Chrome have been removed. I shall correct the problem next time I enter Cloud Nine.
I close the journal and then scurry downstairs for some breakfast. I recognize that my father is not home, he probably went to 7/11 to grab his morning coffee like always. Either that or another gram of Marijuana. I open the cabinet and grab the box of cereal. The moment I lay my hands on the cardboard, I begin to get extremely light headed. Kinda like the feeling you get when you sit/lay down for a long period of time and then arise on your feet very quickly. I most certainly wasn't in any position that would cause my blood pressure to drop. I shook off the peculiar feeling of dizziness, and I walked back into my bedroom.
Everything feels weird. Every step I take causes my manifestation to feel weightless. Not even three spoonfuls of my cereal, and I feel the urge to whip my bowl of cereal at the wall in disgust.
"What the fuck?" I mutter under my breath as I let out a nauseated burp.
I close my eyes to focus as I try to shake off the feeling of nausea, when suddenly, I feel no floor underneath my body. Once I realize this feeling of unreal weightlessness, I open my eyes, only to discover that I'm floating in the middle of a green sky.
At first, I don't know what to think. I can't focus correctly. All I see is bright green in front me. All I hear is the roaring of cold air smash against my ears. I see the white vapors of clouds glide across the green display. It takes me about a good forty seconds to realize where I am. Cloud Nine. I'm in Cloud Nine.
I drop my bowl of cereal and I watch it descend into a green abyss, filled with anger and confusion, I position my body in a pencil like form, and I begin to fly.
I'm so confused. I'm worried. If I'm still dreaming, how did I wake up? What about my dream journal? Is all of that information from this morning still in it? Did I happen to close my eyes as soon as I woke up? So many questions. Not one evident explanation.
I begin to descend from the sky, and I look down on the large skyscrapers of rubber. I notice little dots roaming the streets, as I progress into the city, I notice that those dots are little ants, but those aren't ants, they're people. As soon as I discover a full fledged population, I am filled with concern, because there are supposed to be NO projections of living beings in Cloud Nine.
I land in the middle of the road. As soon as my feet touch the plastic concrete, a man with a handle bar mustache approaches me.
"Welcome to Cloud Nine, friend."
"Who are you?"
"My name is Lrac. You must be Carl."
"What are you doing here?"
"I own the fast food restaurant just around the corner. What matters are you here for?"
"Thi- this place is MY creation."
"What exactly do you mean, sir?"
"I made this place. And NONE of you belong here."
Lrac sends out very uncomfortable vibes. His eyes are expressionless. There's no life in his eyes whatsoever. They're just black dots, right in the middle.
"You should open your eyes." Lrac said to me in a dreary whisper.
As soon as that one word flew out of my mouth, a crowd of Lrac clones surrounded me. They didn't sprint towards me with vigorous anger, they slowly creeped towards me. They circled me. There were literally dozens of them, HUNDREDS of them. They were all humming a song, they were all humming it simultaneously, but in different tones.
Every slow footstep induced a loud ringing sounds. Their horrid humming. Their faces. Oh my goodness, their fucking faces. The shit eating smiles that stretched from cheek to cheek. Their eyes with those black dots of sorrow burning into my mind.
They were inches away from me. Chuckling at me, reaching for me. I felt a hand clasp my shoulder, and as soon as I turned around, the entire horde pinned me down to the ground. I felt a hand slam down on my stomach, forcefully pushing with furious might.
The fist ripped through my flesh. I saw the fist arise in the air along with my entrails. This was a dream. I couldn't do anything. I wanted to move, but I couldn't. Pain is in the mind. And I felt everything. The agony was so explicit. Their laughter tortured my head.
And then it happened.
My eyes open. And I'm in my bedroom.
The sweat burns my eyes. I'm soaked. I look around in spasmodic fear. I slam my hands on my stomach, checking to see whether or not my organs are where they're supposed to be. I slowly begin to tear up. I just stare at the wall in front of me. Not saying a word. A large wave of depression splashed into my face. I wanted to sit here forever, not moving a muscle.
I turn my head to the right, I notice my journal, sitting there. I slowly reach for it. Everything is erased. All of my work. Gone. I turned to the page of March 16, and what I saw shocked me. It scarred me. It burned a permanent hole into the bowels of my mind.
The whole entire journal from that page consisted of this writing:
Tears slowly fell from my eyes. I rip the journal in half and run to the bathroom. I have to go back. I just have to go back. I need to sleep again. I open the medicine cabinet and find a bottle of Zzzquil. Due to complete desperation to sleep, I knock it back until I gag profusely.
I slowly enter the bed. Staring at the ceiling with every passing second, and as my eyelids begin to get heavy, I fall asleep, and I enter Cloud Nine.
I awake in The Fields of Chrome. No one is there. It's just me. Cloud Nine is once again in tip top shape. I slowly stand up, and I begin to walk through the fields, brushing my hands up against the humongous plants that tower over my head.
I can see the city up ahead. And I notice something odd, the city is engulfed in fog. Pure mist. It was unsettling to witness, but this was my world. I had to enter the city. The entire walk throughout the empty street was horrid. Every breath I took filled me with severe depression and suicidal thoughts. I stuck my tongue out to lick my lips, and I taste some sort of metal-like taste. Blood. I'm bleeding.
I wipe my nose, my hand is submerged in warm, fresh blood. The farther I venture into the city, the more ill I become. Before I have the chance to continue walking, I am interrupted by a blood curdling yell,
"OPEN YOUR FUCKING EYES."
Everything turns into slow motion. I slowly fall to my eyes, and I look up at the sky scrapers. I see several dozen bodies falling from the skyscrapers, I see bodies flying out of the windows with nooses around their necks, violently hanging them. Lrac is standing there. Several feet away from me, smiling at me. He's naked from head to toe, violently bleeding from the eyes.
The fog clears, and death surrounds me. I gaze into Lracs eyes. I am in a world of suicide. And my mind is suicidal. This is a message. Cloud Nine isn't happiness. Cloud Nine is your mind, and whatever it thinks of. And my mind is suicidal. Cloud Nine is my suicide.
I should open my eyes. Cloud Nine is finished. Cloud Nine completes me. I should open my eyes.
I awake with a smile on my face. A wide grin stretching from cheek to cheek. I slowly walk into the bathroom, the lights blind me for several moments. My senses slowly return, and I notice my eyes.
My beautiful eyes.