January 24th, 2005
|07:09 pm - Snickersnickersnack. . .|
(written on 01/21/05, not uploaded until today)
I've been doing a lot of snickering lately, both openly and to myself. I suspect that a lot of the reason for that comes from the general feeling I've gotten from reading certain LJ comments in the past month or so, combined with the sheer amount of things I've been doing. Add to that a barrel of Soggoths, and it's a recipie for a touch of insanity.
The Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young and I had some words last night. Apparently, we have very different ideas about how my life should be run. It was a curious set of dreams, and one that I probably shouldn't deal with in much depth. . . But what the hell, right? People read my journal for the stupid things I do, right?
Brian and I'd just gone out to eat after we'd finished painting part of Tina's room, and it wasn't going over well. We talked a bit about the presentation I'm working on for PSA, and I pointed out how it was important to me that it be good, fun, informative, and a step up from previous workshops I've done. I mentioned I'm seeing Soggoths again in a previous entry, so I think that I might be overly focused on this workshop. It's hard to say.
Anyway, I got home, took one more look at the paint in Tina's room, bid Brian a good night, and shoveled the walk and driveway for the second time. My neighborhood is silent at night, and the new-fallen snow added to this. I finished the drive, but something was calling me to not go in quite yet, so I stood out in the cold and looked up at the stars.
I watched the wheel turn for a while, simply taking in the incredible size of space, and the insignificance of myself within that space. My mind drifted back to the presentation, and I began to move my eyes from constellation to star cluster to nebula, mentally considering the location of various supposed planets and sleeping entities, shivering with the cold and perhaps an element of fear.
Finally, I went inside, realizing that the creeping feeling of discomfort would only grow the longer I stood under the stars.
I came back in and said my goodnights to the cats, and got ready for bed. I locked the doors, did my evening devotional, and crawled into bed around eleven-thirty that night.
Before I fell asleep, I began to hear noises. They were quiet at first, just simple rustlings and settling noises. I thought nothing of them.
They grew louder, though, as I drifted toward unconsciousness, finally culminating in what sounded like several things falling over, just outside my door. Something bumped into it loudly, finally bringing me back to near-full consciousness. I thought briefly about investigating, but I knew my doors and windows were locked and that there was still a cat roaming the house, so I decided instead on welcoming sleep.
I finally drifted off, and the dreams began.
At first, I was off in a field somewhere, with a mountain in the distance. The path to the mountain moved directly into a dark forest, and I could see eyes gazing out from the shadows, watching me. I stood for a long time and watched the eyes watch me. Then the dream ended.
In the next dream, I was in a barn. I was in the loft of the barn wearing overalls and gloves, and holding a bale of hay. Down below, I saw several pens, all with their gates open. In the center of the barn there were about thirty goats milling about, all out of their pens. In the center, a black-coated goat stared back at me, her eyes red, her gaze commanding. I'd entered the dream in the middle of feeding these goats, and I was to continue.
I cut the twine on the hay bale, and threw it over the ledge. I watched the hay fall, and was appalled to see that the hay transformed into a broken and twisted body when it hit the floor. The goats swarmed in on the body, with the black-coated goat still watching me. I turned to find another bale of hay, but they had all been replaced with bodies, each one bound with baling twine. This dream then ended.
The following dream found me in the dark. There was whooping and shouting all around me, but I couldn't see anything. Rough hands shook me and pulled me forward, but still no light came in. Drums were being pounded nearby, obviously with ecstatic abandon. There was no rhythm to the shouting and the drumming and the whooping, just cacophany. Something wet rolled down my face, but whether it was blood, sweat, or something else I'm not sure.
A blindfold was ripped away, and I saw where I was: held up between two giant men, skin glistening and grinning like madmen, and before me was the Black Goat. Around me were forms, not only of men and naked women dancing and engaged in other less reputable acts, but of things I did not allow my mind to make out. Shub-Niggurath's offspring, I was sure. The Black Goat lay back, and I was dragged forward, struggling without freeing myself. The Goat grinned, and that was the last thing I saw. The dream ended.
The next dream, or so I think, was real in all its aspects save one: in a sane world, it could not happen. I sat up in my bed and reached for the light. My hand hesitated above the switch because I knew that if I turned it on, the bright light would blind me for a moment. I wanted to know where I was, first. My eyes traveled from corner to corner, making sure I was alone. There was nothing out of place, nothing new, nothing hiding in the dark.
Satisfied, I reached for the light again, ready to turn it on. Before my shaking hand reached it, though, something smashed against the door on the outside. A racket began, and I stopped moving entirely as my pulse began to beat in my ears. Then I heard a goat scream on the other side of the door.
I watched in terror as the knob turned. The latch clicked, and for a moment, there was silence and stillness. And the door creaked open.
On the other side was something dark. Something very, very dark. Red eyes showed through the blackness at me, and it advanced into my room, but I never saw more than that. I passed out.
I woke up this morning to sheets soaked in sweat. I hope to the Gods it was a dream, and I can't imagine it isn't. But this time, there was no banishing laughter, and so I laugh now, while the lights are still on and the sun still shines.
The Soggoths are back.
Current Mood: uncomfortable
Current Music: "Railroad Lady", -JB
woah. i don't quite know what to say to that.
Well, it's certainly weird. No doubt about that.
But you should have seen me when the power went out on Saturday. Man, was I freaked.
|Date:||January 25th, 2005 02:14 am (UTC)|| |
Well, it could have been worse.
You could live within sight of the Starry Wisdom chapel when the power goes out.
|Date:||January 25th, 2005 03:31 am (UTC)|| |
I sooooo love HPL's writing. I think I have just about every story and book he's ever written. So wonderful. So campy. So edrich.
We'd just finished painting part of Tina's room...I got home, took one more look at the paint in Tina's room
A-ha! Methinks I've detected the source of your Elder God vision. Visions of wet paint smells, danced in your heads? ;-)
in a sane world, it could not happen.
Where is this sane world of which you speak?
I, for one, welcome our new insane overlords. ;-)
|Date:||January 25th, 2005 01:55 pm (UTC)|| |
Re: Simply Edrich
That could very well be the source of the vision :)
I had a scary as hell dream last night myself. Maybe I'll write it up.
You should. Re-live the horror. It's more fun that way.
that's one way to look at it.
I REALLY want to finish my essay on piety today. But all I can think of is Pies.
I want to see an article for Oak Leaves: The ADF Piety Pie: A Recipie
Get on that.
Jeez, you're a freakin TASK MASTER. :-p
Can I please finish my Lughnasadh article first? Please, dear sir? :-p
And maybe my DP and my Bachelors and my toenail clipping and my pineapple slicing...
Ha. All I'm saying is that shizukagozen
needs recipies for OL, and I think it would be grand.
Yes. Recipes are good for OL... the Gods are hungry and need more offerings.
I have a few I could share... I'll type them up and get them to Oak Leaves asap.
Terrifying. I've never read Lovecraft, and part of me feels like I ought to... but at the same time I wonder what my brain would do with these images if it were given them ewithout the chance of forgetting. I haven't had a nightmare in a long time, now that I think of it, but nor have my dreams been more than symbolic images and fragmented sequences. I think that has tio do with not sleeping long enough, hehe. Anyway, I can't see this comment because LJ's still messed and won't show the comment box, so I hope it's not incoherent. see you tomorrow.
But I haven't even read my new Climber's handbook or the Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy or the new Morgan Llywelyn books sitting on my shelf or the freaking poetry Jewel bought for me yet... there is no time to read unless I can get on top of things and do it on the weekend!
That being said, that doesn't mean I won't allow myself to get hooked on things occasionally and read them late at night or between things or whatever... and this HAS been on my list for a while, it just keeps wavering.
Well, if you've got 'em, great. But I'd feel more reassurred if half the things propped up on my shelf hadn't slid down the minute I said that. XD
Also, since we're talking about books, have you any other delights for me to borrow? I loved American Gods, and I wouldn't mind reading some more on Asatru. I could give you, uh... Morgan Llywelyn's "Druids"... have you read it yet? I was reading it on an airplane over the summer and we had engine problems and death seemed a very real possibility, but at that time I was so immersed in "Druids" and the ideas presented there that it would have been okay. That's the calibre of book it is... very well written. Just a thought, although I'm not keen on parting with it.
Anyway, gotta go back to the homework... hopefully I will soon have a distraction that doesn't scar me for the rest of my life. ;)!
Amendment: Asatru-ISH things. I recall that you are Asatru-y, as I think I first described you... which is not the same thing. :x
Excellent. I want them all. XD
Haha, my bookshelf here only has a few books, due to not having any room. It has my new big old Climber's Handbook, an Outdoor Survival Guide, a magazine-type book on Cosplay, an Audubon guide to National Wildlife refuges, an Audubon guide to the night sky, two Morgan Llywelyns, and a CHarles de Lint I wanted to try out. And that's it. Pretty vacant. ;P At home there's lots more. <3
As for Llywelyn, do NOT confuse this for Llywelyn publishers! This is not the same as all those Silver Ravenwolfy type books or whatever it is you shy from. This is a woman, a historian of Celtic mythology and also a brilliant crafter of fiction. She is not at all the one of those little moon-logo paperback authors. :) (Although, I personally have a problem with disparaging them all too much for reasons that would take a whole debate going over and are probably contradictory, so, haha, we'll leave it at that.)
I actually know several people who have published with Llewellyn, so I know that there are some gems in their catalogue.
Oh, I believe it! That's really neat. :)
Perfectly coherent. Unlike me :)
Don't worry, you'll get a great introduction to such things shortly. Promise.
And this is why I don't play with Cthulhu, real or not.
I'd say, "Aw, come on! It's fun!" but I don't think you'd believe me.