Plague Survivor - draft copy
©2015 snakeappletree
There were holographs in the air, swimming fish balloons, in hyper-real colour, more sleek than they eyes are used to seeing in the real world, only perhaps in computer animations. the fear was everywhere despite these things being beautiful. fear of seeing the future and the inevitable weight that we were going to see it anyway. the governments announced that we had to go and live underground. we all feared we carried the virus. i was looking back on my life and wishing i had done things differently. all that really matters to me is my son. somehow we got split apart during the rush to go underground. stories going around, the virus was propaganda it doesn’t exist, people disappearing, nobody knowing anybody around them, the fear is hoax, the underground survival is a hoax, the above surface is safe but we don’t have to do things the same way anymore, we are getting rid of the older people, the safest way, liberty from their games, we all got a dose. by the time i got underground caught up in the city streets mad rush panic mob mind, all of the old underground caverns and tunnels had been returned by use of sledgehammers to the bricked up archways. all the worlds most ancient cities have below them at least one level of labyrinth; now segregated into peoples basements. i cried openly and hoped my son had survived. i went crazy, we all did, shuffling and waiting, hungry, too afraid to go up into the city now after the gas attack, after the thousands of voices echoing in the tunnels until we fell to stillness and introspective quiet, to figure out what had just happened. eventually i returned to the city streets simply because so few were left in the tunnels. humanity had experience this thing together, most of us. it shocked the world. in a state of shock, we rebuilt. future generations would they accept this? why are so few of us left, why are there no bodies? where are our loved ones? gradually we returned to trust each other, sensing wordlessly, seeing colours return to the world as hearts opened up, we embraced each other and thus the healing began. We couldn’t speak anymore. Perhaps it was deafness. Hearing an entirely different range of sounds from the inner ear. Nobody knew how to fix the old infrastructure, the cities decayed. We had wet blankets and everything had to change. We understood that, all through our lives. But to do this, to do it this way. I was too old to rebuild and too crazy to help. All the shadow beasts came up, violent crazies and twisted ghosts out to leech the icing, lurking in zombi infested cities.
There were holographs in the air, swimming fish balloons, in hyper-real colour, more sleek than they eyes are used to seeing in the real world, only perhaps in computer animations. the fear was everywhere despite these things being beautiful. fear of seeing the future and the inevitable weight that we were going to see it anyway. the governments announced that we had to go and live underground. we all feared we carried the virus. i was looking back on my life and wishing i had done things differently. all that really matters to me is my son. somehow we got split apart during the rush to go underground. stories going around, the virus was propaganda it doesn’t exist, people disappearing, nobody knowing anybody around them, the fear is hoax, the underground survival is a hoax, the above surface is safe but we don’t have to do things the same way anymore, we are getting rid of the older people, the safest way, liberty from their games, we all got a dose. by the time i got underground caught up in the city streets mad rush panic mob mind, all of the old underground caverns and tunnels had been returned by use of sledgehammers to the bricked up archways. all the worlds most ancient cities have below them at least one level of labyrinth; now segregated into peoples basements. i cried openly and hoped my son had survived. i went crazy, we all did, shuffling and waiting, hungry, too afraid to go up into the city now after the gas attack, after the thousands of voices echoing in the tunnels until we fell to stillness and introspective quiet, to figure out what had just happened. eventually i returned to the city streets simply because so few were left in the tunnels. humanity had experience this thing together, most of us. it shocked the world. in a state of shock, we rebuilt. future generations would they accept this? why are so few of us left, why are there no bodies? where are our loved ones? gradually we returned to trust each other, sensing wordlessly, seeing colours return to the world as hearts opened up, we embraced each other and thus the healing began. We couldn’t speak anymore. Perhaps it was deafness. Hearing an entirely different range of sounds from the inner ear. Nobody knew how to fix the old infrastructure, the cities decayed. We had wet blankets and everything had to change. We understood that, all through our lives. But to do this, to do it this way. I was too old to rebuild and too crazy to help. All the shadow beasts came up, violent crazies and twisted ghosts out to leech the icing, lurking in zombi infested cities.
Appendix I
I wrote this quite some time after having the disturbing dream. After which, I logged into VR and was invited to a world which closely depicts a lot of the imagery from the dream. I do not know if this is a result of the law of attraction / manifestation, or if some other thing is occurring, an underlaying superstructure invisible to the human conscious awareness but nevertheless we feel the connection making sense of allegedly random coincidences, such as Karl Jung was writing about. Experimental tests need to be developed to discern this; the closest we have is the now proven to be inaccurate particle-slit experiment and Schroedingers cat hypothesis. Which means we are back to square one although now we are specifically exploring the relationship between an individual verses a collective experience, is it a projection from us or are we observing and interacting with an emanation from some deeper core obeying laws we have barely begun to be aware of? physics of the dreaming.
I will return to this and re-draft it, adding extra appendix as necessary. There is a lot more to it than I have written here.
For similar, see; Circle Dream
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