S Pink Premium Pointer Bio-Tagebuch (nur 3% Fantasie): (Bad) Dreams
People used to remind me that "not everything's either black or white", but that doesn't mean they don't exist.
Because, where is all that grey coming from?

(Bad) Dreams

Monday, November 4th, 2013, 1.47am
Something´s not right.
Over the past few days it felt like a part of me is resisting change. Doubts – not really on myself, but on what I´m hoping for. Like, something inside me is telling me, yelling at me that what I´m trying to do is absolute bullshit and has not the slightest possible chance of resulting in a friendly reunion with Claudia or anything positive at all.
Woke up from a nightmare just before. The weird-mindfuck type.
Well, are there any others?
It was a sequence of insane, allegedly random shit, lots of blood and madness. At first I thought that it doesn´t have anything to do with … anything, but … .
I was delivering packages to an apartment complex, located in a cluster of estates which were connected with walkways that lead through a park. Actually it looked quite nice, if there wouldn´t have been this crazy guy who was out to kill me just for fun. A real lunatic, a maniac, a mad man. He sent out his guys who attacked me with razor-sharp golden clamps in their hands – a bit like crab scissors, only smaller, like the ones women use to put their hair up. But pretty much all they managed to do with them was to hurt themselves, cutting up their own hands while I was fighting them off. I recognized those murderous psycho bastards from Luther S01E02 and S02E02, 03 & 04 as being the attackers. I tried to grab their arms and to hold them away from me. After I wrestled them to the ground they seemed to simply give up and die. They did it in complete silence, just staring me in the eye. The only sound I heard was the crazy, disturbing, high pitched laugh of their boss. It somehow got stuck in a loop that kept repeating itself in the back of my head. When I finally arrived at a customer´s place he was one of those pricks who refuse to sign for their packages. He had quite a bad attitude and resentfully signed in ridiculously huge letters across the whole board instead of just in the two small slots for his packages. There was something about his whole appearance that was making me feel really uncomfortable in his presence. It was only after I had left that I realized that he was the raping social worker from The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. I got out of the flat and was on my way back to my van when there were even more of those freaks coming at me. Lots of them. No faces this time, only bodies. The golden weapons in their hands varied from little gardening claws to … one had put metal pipes over his arms – the metal was cutting into his flesh as he was flayling at me. Everything felt so wrong the whole time, but real nevertheless. I tried to think of a way to stop them. I figured that the only way out was to defeat the laughing mad man who commanded them. Somehow I knew that guy. So I kept thinking about where I had seen his face before. Then it hit me. Toby, the sadistic son-of-bitch grandson from the second season of Luther. 
Luther is just a tv show, purely fictional, and so is he. I just have to get him out of my mind and everything will be fine. It´s a fucking dream – that´s what´s wrong with this whole shit, so I thought.
I concentrated on good stuff, nice things, happy thoughts, the exact opposite of what was going on right now. I remember flowers growing everywhere and my delivery van transforming into a pale pink golf cart with rainbows on it before I woke up. I won.
What leaves me with a fucked up feeling now are that fucker´s last words as he looked me right in the eye just before he vanished into nothingness, This was just a warning. 
It felt different, more serious than that other stuff I saw or heard in the dream. Like my own mind was being impersonated by someone else who was now speaking directly to me, “the other half”. I get the shivers when I think about it.

The whole controlling-your-dream situation reminds me on the first time when I was deliberately altering a dream a few years back. It wasn´t a nightmare, though. The one thing that made me aware of being in a dream was that I was on a certain map of Battlefield Bad Company 2, Arica Harbor, but it looked different. It was wrong. There were buildings where they weren´t supposed to be. That was why I realized that it wasn´t real. I was incapable of editing the map itself, but I could re-shape the buildings, add and subtract stuff like stair cases, windows, and even whole floors. I could shoot a sniper with a pistol from several hundred meters away, or teleport right behind him to stab him in the back. Pretty cool. I think that was shortly after I watched Inception for the first time, but I don´t know for sure.
I know that I was “conscious” that time, because I usually do stupid, irrational things in pleasant dreams. Things that no one in his right mind would do. I once dreamt that I was the owner of a manufacturing company which made pretty much every single cool thing in the world. Toys, gummi bears, figurines of anime characters, posters, DVDs, games, CDs - you name it. I was on a visit, and a group of men lead me through the halls to show me the production lines and the warehouse. As soon as we were near the exit again, I grabbed as much as I could carry and ran. I stuffed everything in the trunk of my car and got the hell outta there, as fast as I could.
See? I mean, all of it was practically mine all along, and still I felt the need to rob the place and fuck off. Maybe because it was simply too awesome to comprehend. I still have a picture of it in my mind, watching myself as I run out of the building, both arms fully packed with everything I was able to get my hands on. Stupid, but funny all the same. It makes me smile.
Sunday, November 17th, 2013, 4.33pm
Had another nightmare tonight.
It's got to have had something to so with all the stuff in my diaries that I was reading yesterday. Maybe it was a bit too much for one day (~11,500 words). Decided to take a break from that for today.
The dream itself was about my father in his last days before he died, although I don't even know what it looked like. I never visited him in the hospital, only heard about his condition when the others told me. Like, when he didn't even recognize my brothers, his own sons as they were standing at his bed. At the time he was heavily medicated due to a hand full of strokes and heart attacks he barely survived in the days before. The brain had already taken severe damage, the kidneys had shut down days ago, the lung cancer did the rest. Yet the doctors kept “bringing him back”. Over a month they had to re-animate him two or three times, maybe more, although they knew that he wouldn't make it out of the hospital alive anyway. He wasn't even able to move anymore, let alone speak. How can you do something like that to someone? I didn't want to see that. I still don't think that it was a mistake not to go see him.
Nevertheless, in my dream I saw my father in his bed having a seizure and spasming uncontrollably. It was very uncomfortable to watch to say the least. Do you know the scene with Zelda in the movie adaption of Stephen King's Pet Semetary? Just like that, very Silent Hill-ish. Luckily it didn't last long. My mother, who was looking like a mash-up of Meli and Claudia (actually that's what creeped me out the most), was trying to calm him down until I took a revolver and put him out of his misery. As much as I can remember, it looked a lot like at the end of season 2 of The Walking Dead, when Daryl shoots Gale. (Spoiler al … agh, forget it.)
Gosh, that's fucked up. But I wouldn't call it a nightmare otherwise.
Friday, November 22nd, 2013, 6:01pm
Are my dreams getting worse?
Why are my dreams getting worse?
I don't want my dreams to get worse!
Seems like the bastards are adapting to the way I handle them. They´re getting shorter, but more intense. Can't even remotely recall something like a story. This time it was really just random garbage, constantly shifting and changing. The whole surrounding, buildings, their interior, people – nothing stayed the same, not even for a second. I didn't have time to think about or simply just react to any of it. As soon as I turned my head, everything was different again. All I remember is that I was on the phone with Claudia, the connection got lost, my phone was automatically texting default messages to Siggi's sister and their cousin, some guy from a bank wanted to talk some serious business, I found no seat, I felt awful and got a headache, and people I didn't know were laughing at me. Somehow I managed to “pull the plug” and opened my eyes. Felt like all of this was compressed into a few seconds only. Completely mindfucked, I started to cry. Hugging myself, thinking myself far away from this, I could fall asleep again.
Now I know what a faulty booting sequence in the matrix must look like.
Sunday, November 24th, 2013, 5:19pm
Think I'll start with the transcription of the rest of my diaries to get it over with.
Guess there'll be a few more days/nights of bad dreams ahead of me, because I keep digging in all this “old” crap.
Read the last dream again that I had this week. It makes perfect sense. It's nothing but a distorted compilation in which all the stuff I read in my diaries blurred together.

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