Dream Log #26

I’m sitting down in the audience, a small crowd, and there’s a satanic ritual going on on stage. At every stage people had to choose whether they believed the demon they were going to conjure was real or powerful, and I chose to deny everything.

They were sitting in a circle, drawing things and blowing on them, and the demon’s figure appeared on the projector, and as the figure walked out of the screen it materialised in real life.

Honestly it looked like just a red pro wrestler with horns. He was huge, and had markings on his arms. He had a really fierce looking face and a permanent snarl on his mouth

He started walking among the rows where the audience sat. I tried to be brave, I tried to feel like the fear wasn’t building up in me and kept a straight face as he approached closer. But I felt my lips trembling, and it wasn’t going so well.

Suddenly I’m in my bedroom with a friend (I don’t recognise), and the demon walked in, holding a gun in his hand. My friend then did a martial art move and managed to arm lock him, and I snatched the gun away from his hand. I pointed it at him, but he laughed and said I could never do it (my hands were trembling). Then I pulled the safety hatch off and pointed it at his leg, but he suddenly bent down and I shot his neck instead. And I freaked out because I didn’t intend to kill him and asked my friend to call the police.

I don’t remember what happened after that.

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Holiday

I haven’t written in a long time, and I’d probably give the excuse of being way too busy to write, but truth is, I would have made the time if I wanted to for sure.

As Jung would have commented, I’m now not tuned into my inner world. I’m completely focused on what’s happening around me, and it’s been a long time since I explored that world.

It must have changed a lot.

I’m just not exactly aware of what.

I guess maybe it’s also because I don’t feel like there’s anything I have to sort out in there. Things aren’t in a mess, things don’t feel wrong.

And this is why people (especially in the arts) produce their best work in their lowest.

It’s when you dive into what’s inside of you, and when you find the beauty of the chaos and the mess and the strange things you’d never find in a comfortable reality.

Maybe it’s been kinda like a break, a little holiday, from my thoughts, from the side of me that’s deep within the unconscious.

Choice

Was on the way back home with Ivy today, and we had a logical discussion on christianity.

And it came to a point when neither of us could bring up any more points to prove anything.

I said, “Well, I guess there’s no way we can logically debate until we can prove that God is or isn’t real, because if it was possible, everyone would be forced to believe it. All I want to do is to just clear up any misunderstandings that people have about christianity.”

And she said she learnt something new today.

So I was thinking about this while I was bathing, and I realised that it’s true that people see what they want to see. Things happen, some people see them as miracles by God, and others choose to see them as coincidences. Things happen, and some see them as horrible things that prove that God doesn’t exist, and others choose to see them as experiences that they can learn from and grow from, and they thank Him instead.

Either way there’s always a chance for you to choose, and that is the only thing that makes it work.

So from now on, I’m going to stop trying to bring christianity into logical debates because that really isn’t the point.

I guess what I’m supposed to do is to share on why I chose God.

Neutral

I don’t write a lot when I’m not sad.

Well, nowadays I’m just plain exhausted, but deep down inside, I’d say I’m happy.

Maybe it’s because I don’t see the point in writing about happy things anymore. There’s no need to. Your thoughts aren’t clouded, your heart isn’t shattered, your soul isn’t a massive abyss of despair.

I guess yeah, perhaps a memory. Occasionally. Just for keepsakes. I think I stopped writing about happy things quite a while back.

I just keep them in my heart, and in my mind. Maybe that’s why I write about sad things. To keep them out.

I still want to write a little here and there, I guess these things are neutral things.

As much as I would want to write a bit more, I can feel my brain shutting down and I think I really need to sleep before 2am