Dreams

You'll stop having those dreams soon and slowly forget them. Eventually you'll visit the beach house and feel a slight sense of deja vu. The places where we die leave a strong emotional imprint and can show up when our mind is more open in dreams.

I don't have dreams. At least, that I remember.

>>36457164
That's the thing, I've never been to a beach house before...

The house I get, it seems to be modeled after our home in my parent's country, and the train looks exactly like the NYC subway, and "tokyo" looks like NYC.

Also it's been three years since she destroyed me and they're still coming back, and I can't help but think and be obsessed with her whenever I'm stressed out.

The dreams with her are always me somehow making things between is right again and getting her back etc. I wake up super fucking depressed as you can imagine.

>>36457036
I used to have a dream of my room being dark and flooded with cubes floating in it. It was lit by colored lights and a cartoonish lion sat atop one of the cubes. I looked out my window down at the sidewalk (there was never a sidewalk in front of my house in reality) to see a steady procession of children in Halloween costumes marching in time down the street, the same three or four costumes repeated over and over again.

Haven't had it recently, but I remember it vividly.

>>36457036
I rarely dream but when I do it's usually the same thing:

A dimly lit rotunda, ancient, built from massive blocks of sandstone and deep underground. Descending from the oculus is a large stone column, of a different material then the room (basalt?). At the base is a large wheel, parallel to the ground and set into a recess so that it's flush with the ground. There's a gap of about 1-2 feet between the wheel and the part it sits in. The whole thing turns slowly, a booming sound of grinding stone the only thing audible at first. Then, I approach the stone pillar. I look in and see piles of mangled corpses in various states of decay, churning and tumbling ever so slowly, pushed along by the wheel. Limbs, organs, bones, viscera all being stirred up, or rather ground by the wheel. The wheel is stained brown with old, old blood, and the column as well, up about ten feet before it's just the natural color of stone. I hear a deep, chilling laugh, then I wake up.

I usually wake up in a cold sweat from that dream and I can't fall back asleep. It's rare, maybe 2-3 times a year does it happen.

I'll see if I can draw something to give a better idea of what I'm describing.

File: Vault.png (94KB, 1244x867px) Image search: [Google]

94KB, 1244x867px

>>36457262
Here's the drawing. It actually came out way better than I expected. I guess I remembered this dream more vividly than I thought...