Interpretate This Dream (part 1)

This is not my dream this was some I know was talking to me about it a few weeks ago. Figure I'd through is out there it is one of 3. All post the other 2 at a later time.

(Words of the person speaking in the dream)

Have you ever wondered, what final thoughts a person who’s exhaling, their final breath in this life has?

Much like, the tightening rope around their neck, I hold no such desire, for the answer to the question.

The reason behind doing it and the ambition to continue, are completely different. Though the outcome seems to be the same. In the same sense as:

A person fighting, to accomplish a goal, regardless of what the experience may cost.

It’s much like traveling; to see how far these tired feet can take me. Despite nothing changes, I continue on.

Same blue sky, hot asphalt, and old memories. Trailing steadily behind haunting me, and the very mind I wonder if I had in the first place.

Some may conceive; my thoughts to be a pennies’ worth. Though, care not to waste such precious time, to put one in a scared man’s hand. I don’t know what it is that I seem to gravitate towards.

Lost, having the overwhelming feeling: to vacate and never look back. All that was can never be again.

I have nothing because I lost what wasn’t mine to possess: life and sanity. Though ignorantly believing in such a tail, brings a grin of disparity to my face. One who’s forgotten; what it means to feel such an emotion as happiness.

This was chosen by the gods. Long before I was put on this godless, evil, and vacant dwelling I now call home.

My hopes sank fast, similar to rabbits feet in quicksand.

Flashes of mistakes where many often occurred, I remain: In the percatory of regret and shame.



Reminiscing about times where: words would leave my mouth. I’d find myself later envisioning the attempt to catch them, as they were catapulted.

My heart was once pure; now it’s broken but beating. Polluted with no luck, my hands travel through air, trying to capture the damning words, that shouldn’t fall on deaf ears. In fear a miracle would suddenly, turn vibration into sound.

In turn leaving the wishes of recovering the tainted words. So they would not have been able to understand.

All too well, I know and sulk in the definition of resentment. Sinatra rings clear, through the masses of thoughts: “Regrets I’ve had a few,” then much like a broken vinyl, skipping to continue “ I bit off more than I could chew.” Humility rises as the passion of panic sets in.

Sometimes, these scattered thoughts are too heavy to wheld. Bringing new meaning to the words: “double edged sword”. Cutting deeply into my mind as if it’s trying to lighten the pressure. A mere fantasy, relief is never to be mine.

The stench of a rotting corpse, could be stifled, by the flagrence of my madness. I’d say, it’s a good thing I’m the only one to be seen for some time now. Under the watchful eye of the skies occupancies. The gavel of judgement crushed the foundation of lies, burrowed deep in the marrow of my arthritic bones.

They’ve created holes much to the dismay of the skies. Which are displayed as clouds. Many of which can’t be seen by an open eye, once again ignorance is bliss.

For what these eyes have seen, could make the holiest of men, question faith.

I’ve been told death is the easy part. Whomever thought those simple words, knew nothing, about reflection. I digress, silence is golden and shall stay that way.



All of those words were spoken by a strange man. Walking down an endless road, there were simulates of people.

Who were suspended in air, with chains around their hands and feet.

Held there by an anchor weight, benith them was the long road the guy walked down. The road had creatures underneath it, they were packed in by the thousands.

At some point an eye ball became the sun; which produced a judges gavel. The object then crushed this guy, he became dust that evaporated like water.

What the guy looked like:

He was about 5’9”, I had a camera view but I never saw his face. Just what was ahead of him, nothing. He was dressed in blue jeans and a black leather jacket.

What I mean by “nothing” is exactly what it sounds like, the “world” seemed to materialize as he walked. All the while, saying the words previously mentioned.