I tell you honestly; this is not something I do often. But I have been having the strangest dreams lately, and I couldn’t help myself but draw them out. Since I don’t understand them, here they are. Let’s play Freudian, right?
I dream of walking over a chessboard, black and white. It is night, the sky is strangely blue. The huge moon shines yellow on me, like a lamp. I hear whispering, like talking in the distance. I walk towards it. In front of me floats an oval mirror. It isn’t a mirror because I can’t see myself but I still feel it is actually a mirror. A Talking Mirror. One side is bright red, the other side is bright blue. The whisperings are coming from that mirror. I try to understand it, but I can’t. They whisper contradictions, one side means this, the other side means the opposite. They are right nor wrong, and both at the same time. Suddenly, the ground trembles. A purple tree sprouts from the ground, and at first I think it has leaves, but actually those are eyes. The eyes stare at me, they speak to me. “Listen to us! Listen to us! You have to listen to us! Follow our directions! Obey us!” There is blood, dripping from the sky. I start running rom the Tree of Eyes, and I end up in this forest, with pink trees, like apple trees. Only the apples aren’t fruit, they are big bloodshot eyeballs. The chessboard floor becomes a piano, a stairs. I climb it, and while climbing I hear the tunes of Erik Satie’s Gnossienne no. 1, like a sign of approaching doom. The piano stairs curls around a chain, a giant pocket watch from which blood is coming. I hear it tick, it’s ticking to the rhythm of the song I play by walking the piano stairs. Then, I don’t know what happens. Suddenly I’m tied by both my hands on a branch of the Tree of Eyes. Around me, all these clocks hang, golden pocket watches. Blood drips from them, forms a pool on the ground, a sea even. The chessboard is covered. The Tree of Eyes sounds complaining, the Gnossienne resounds deformed on the background. The blood is rising, I can almost feel it touch my feet. I cry, I can’t help but cry, my hands hurt, my head hurts, I can’t escape. I’m doomed.