Dreams alternately fueled by flaring sensation or painkiller. Lucid. Epiphany tonight while drifting in and out; the world is a shithole. One day, the entirety of the heavenly body decided to create Earth because there was just too much crap in Heaven, and it had to go somewhere.
Earth is Heaven’s toilet bowl. Heaven stays pure and clean thanks to the dumping ground that is Earth, whereas all of humanity gets to mire and swallow and wallow in the shit that is Heaven’s biological refuse. Funny thing is, shit’s a great fertilizer… and life on Earth was an accident, a curiousity that took root and sprung forth from the froth that was God’s diarrhea.
Almost daily, an angel or two casts a line — a fishing line — into the Bowl for the Bowel, and from it are pulled any number of human beings. Each and every time, the angels are flabbergasted to find that, despite the divine origin of humanity, humans seem incapable of doing anything, being completely encased in caked crap, unable to move beneath the ever-increasing weight of it all.
Kind of puts things into perspective…
I’m very disturbed. And I’m also entertained. You and your (drug of choice) have quite the imagination!
Aye, huzzah for Tylenol-3s, fatigue, bloodloss and half-starvation! :)
Oddest little dream I’ve had yet, though, is one that I can only half-remember: I was walking through an open field, a little man perched on my shoulder. I suddenly grew rather agitated, having spotted something on the horizon. I ran and ran and ran towards it, realizing as I moved closer that it was a large boulder that had arrested my attention. Arriving and gasping for breath, the little fellow sitting atop me said, “nuh-uh-uh, you’re looking for the death with the white door.”
And then I woke up.
There are half-remembered other fragments from the same dream — though certainly not the same scene — that, unfortunately, do little in the way of providing context for the (seemingly very) bizarre quote offered by the shoulder-riding manikin.