Take Out The Eyes Of The One Summoned By Crows

By Vexen Crabtree 2002

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Occurred: 2002 June 22 (Saturday)

I was homeless, and looking for a place to sleep. The city was black, desolate, gothic, with ruins and buildings side by side. Some fires burned in trash cans in the distance.

There are some pools of water, dirty black water like oil in the dark night and I lay down by them to sleep. I am scared and concerned that if I sleep with my sleeping bag zipped all the way up if a tramp comes and attacks me I will be helpless until I can get my arms out. My dreams frequently contain scary tramps who stalk me.

Some crows are by one of the pools. The pools are small, not possible to down in them. But one of the pools is very deep and if someone forced your head into it then you could drown. The crows are hopping around pecking at things in the water. 3 of them seem to be pecking at the same thing. The crows are dark brown and dirty.

Something disturbing moves in the water. One of the crows jumps on it and pecks it up, then does a short fly/jump to the next pool along. It drops what it had. I have zipped my bag all the way up (it's cold) and stretch my neck to see what the bird has caught.

The first thing I notice is that there is another dead bird in the second very shallow pool of water. Then I look to see what the live bird had caught... but the live bird has just died and is floating on the top of the water, its feathers moving slightly in the breeze. The pool is deadly poisoned.

I fall to sleep there anyway.

I am suddenly awoken by a tramp attacking me. I get an arm out of my sleeping bag. Normally, in dreams, when I poke at someone's eye I press a finger underneath their eye and keep pressing further and further, hurting them but not actually stabbing their eye with any brutal force.

This time was different. Using my thumb I forced it without guilt, shame or inhibition into one of his eyes, feeling its resistance but presenting more than enough force to send my thumb to the back of his socket. I'm proud of a job well done as the tramp falls onto his back in pain.

I get out of my sleeping bag and look at the guy. He's a mess. I imagine saying to him "Your eye is a real mess". Then I take his head by the hair and force his head into the deepest black pool of water, knowing I'm willing to hold it there until he's dead. End of dream!

Current edition: 2002 Jun 22
http://www.vexen.co.uk/d/nineteen.html
Parent page: Vexen Crabtree's Dream Diary (2000-2003)

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