Makyo in My Mind
hallucinations of the unconscious eye
Other half of my short life
In short story form
Wednesday, November 26, 2003
What Can Not Be Seen
I was staying in a dorm room out by the sea. My parents were always snooping around. My mom got mad at me for sleeping for 24 hours. I told her it was none of her business, and to get the fuck out. My dad left the back door open because he accidentally triggered some laserbeam security system (as in, it kills you) right outside my front door in the hallway. I exit through the back door, and it's right on the water. Looking down the waterline, I see tons of buildings with the same setup. Some even have heated swimming pools right outside their door, emptying out right into the ocean. I just have a small terrace. It's totally nighttime out.
I travel via motorcycle with my adventuring troupe for this dream. We're heading off some enemies, who remind me of Native Americans. They all speed up this dirt path through the forest, up a hill, to head them off, while I scout on ahead. I see a black police car, and shout, but not too loudly, "Cop!" I spin around the street to see my fellows being chansed down the hill with spears and such. I have a cape on with a black hood. I ditch my motorcycle and prop myself up against a tree, pretending to be asleep or meditating. The cops come up and pester me, but I don't budge. I have visions of someone fighting them off with a large sword. They eventually leave, and I get the feeling that 12 hours have gone by.
I'd taken off my hood. Everyone in our group has a special skill. I say to myself, "Vision shows you what you can see," and as I put my hood back on, "and I see what can not be seen."
I find myself in a dark castle-like room with orange lighting. A tall humanoid with tough armor stands before me, my enemy. I'm wielding a very, very large sword. My enemy wields nothing, for his right leg is itself a very large sword. I swing and swing at him, hitting him all over, but I never do any damage. I know this is how it has to be, and I'm just waiting for the perfect strike.
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