Nightmares, Monsters, and Aliens…

Let me say, at the beginning of this post that while the title isn’t necessarily about politics, it sure as hell could be.  This year’s election cycle, for all parties concerned, could be spot on for all these subjects.

Moving onward.

I have a very active imagination, more active than most people’s imaginations.  For instance, after years of writing fiction, I often narrate my own dreams.  Last night was no different.  Having had the recent blazing hot weather out here on the West Coast and having to chose between writing at literally the crack of dawn or performing yard work and ranch work before the sun burns your flesh right off of your body, that I’ve gotten very little writing done.  And when that happens, my superactive imagination writes nightmares in my sleep.

Last night, I dreamt that some young college student had created the greatest practical joke ever, a worldwide joke.  By using small weather balloons, he had released into the atmosphere a new chemical that as it rained down would dissolve the outer most layer of people’s skin.  This is an effect that low molar acids, such as nitric acid, can accomplish.  Effectively, if you spill a low concentration of nitric acid on yourself, it turns you skin into soap.  Sort of.  So, in my dream, this was his planned joke on humanity.

But as my subconsciousness works things,  the chemicals didn’t stop at the outermost layer of skin, but dissolved all the flesh from our bones.  The safe place to be was indoors.  Even so, millions melted away in screaming agony.

More so, because the world is literally full of viruses, tens of millions of them (don’t worry, 99.99999 ad infinitum percent of them are benign) viruses in the human body interacted with the chemicals to create little blobs of us, blobs like the movies about The Blob, which began wiping out all of humanity.

Then my subconscious narrator moved in.   It began explaining, as we writers do in exposition, that these blobs, having some sort human intelligence, began hiding in places to ambush the innocent.  For instance, one tidbit I offered myself was that the blobs hid in children’s toys.  When small children opened their toys, the blobs would pop out quickly, swallowing them whole.  Covered in sticky, fleshy gel, they couldn’t scream.  In moments, they were dissolved, the flesh becoming part of the monster’s flesh.  Only their bones were left behind.

One nightmare after another followed on the same subject.  My subconscious, my id (there’s an old term for you) was writing chapters.  Near the end of the nightmare, I was with my family alone in our house, out of food, unable to go anywhere because because giant red blobs rolled up and down the streets, looking for prey.  Nearly everyone on Earth was dead.  They blobs covered every piece of land on the Earth, with the exceptions of around nuclear power plants and the coldest regions.  They ate every animal species, from the smallest bugs to the largest elephants.  They avoided the oceans and other large bodies of water, because they sank.  They couldn’t swim and at the greatest depths crushed them.

At this point, I woke up.  I have this really great ability that if any dream or nightmare becomes too disturbing, I pop right awake.  And when I awaken, I am wide awake.

This ability first manifested when I was six or seven.  I had dreamt that flying saucers filled the skies and aliens had come down and were killing everyone.  I dreamt,  way back in the early 1960s, that water killed these aliens (long before the movie “Signs” was written; great minds think alike, eh?).  But after using one of our hoses to literally hose down several aliens, one alien proclaimed, “You can’t hurt me with that,” and pointed his death ray at me.  So I told that alien that if he wasn’t going to die, I would wake up.  He laughed and I woke up.

How cool is that, to control your own dreams by being able to wake up when they become too disturbing?

Sometimes, I write pieces of stories I’m working on, in my dreams.  That’s happened a few times.  And sometimes, not very often, I write complete stories.

A few weeks back, I dreamt that some of my friends and I had invented a time machine.  We had also created a special room that kept us in the same time stream as the operator of the time machine, separating us from any changes to the time line that might occur as the result of time travel.  All the characters involved in this dream were actual friends of mine.  One is an engineer.  Another is a lawyer.  And another is a college professor.  In the dream, we chose the professor to travel back in time because he was the most articulate and easy-going person, a natural negotiator.  (Which he really is.)

So we sent him back to 1900 Japan, to warn the population of an upcoming earthquake.  He accomplished his mission, but the consequences were horrible.  Instead of an earthquake killing ten thousand people, the Japanese Islands sank into the sea.  Japan never bombed Pearl Harbor.  We never went to war in World War 2.  Nazi Germany invented the Atomic Bomb and North America became a radioactive wasteland.

Nice going, w e said to him.  He spread his arms and replied, “How was I supposed to know that Godzilla was real?”

So we sent him back again.  He negotiated with Godzilla, who spat a gigantic fireball at him.  The professor avoided the fireball and returned.  Godzilla spared Japan.  And everything evolved as it was supposed to.  End of story.

Kind of wild, huh?  That’s my imagination and me.  I collect junk from everything that I read and watch and my imagination twists it into stories, dreams and nightmares.

By the way, while writing this post, I listened to music from “The Maze Runner”, “Catching Fire”, “The Happening”, classic “Twilight Zone” episodes, “Warm Bodies”, and”Game of Thrones”.

See you out there.

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