"All the things one has forgotten scream for help in dreams." ... Elias Canetti
I'm not in church again this morning. Wanted to go, didn't. I'm chasing demons. Always chasing something I can never get to.
Finally, it occurred to me that the creature lives in my dreams. One in particular. Four years ago, I drew it's picture, part of which I included on an earlier post: Nightmares Pt 1. What is so startling about this is not only how menacing this creature looks, but how it moves. This is how the creature moved in my nightmare, stalking me thru the halls of the college - slow, deliberate, and sure that it could/would find me. It took its time, moving thru space seamlessly as if attached to me by a continuum created by my presence.
Also, look at its hands. This is almost exactly how the clawed fingers looked, except I see them open flat, sort of tapping with an open palm, on my chest. The creature demanded to know if I would denounce my God. Somewhere, in my memory is a spark that once ignited, will cause me much pain, I feel it's ugly snarling breath squeezing my heart, and smell the putrid smoldering filth that puffs from its lungs. It is a memory from a long ago ritual, and moves thru time and space in my memory, just as deliberately and most assuredly as confident that it will find me. This small guarded and elusive spark guides my every step and loathes my knowledge of it. I cannot grasp it, yet, I cannot hide from it.
Again, my T tries to help me find different ways of interpreting things that are difficult for me to know, so this elusive spark, becomes the safety of a song: Elusive Butterfly by Bob Lind.