This really happend...

but make of it what you will


today I woke up entombed, I woke up entombed after a vivid dream of many things which melted into the depths of my mind while I was wondering why there was a wall sealing me into where I slept and no familiar shelf above my bed. I finally realized that I was sleeping upside down and that I'd done it on purpose the night before(after coming home from hanging out with Riley and my mother) but .... it gave me quite a shock
it reminded me how deeply I fear waking trapped, not just caged tho I always use that word, as defense I believe, people go in cages, cages have bars, and food and air
my people, we go in tombs, we are buried alive and hoped to be forgotten. We are buried alive and left to wither away from the world. And I woke up with the cold calm of a panic and terror that has given up it's 'fish out of water' failings. It didn't last long tho I did have a moment of 'patting' along the wall trying to find a way it wasn't real before I understood what was up. it didn't last long but it exposed so much to me... a black well of fear that wasn't open to honest inspection before. the bonus side was/is that I may dissipate it now, my divest myself of some of the horror. But it's so much more than that, it exposes so much more. "my people" that no verbal feeling of profound difference, and profound difference by the judgment of the ones who would be different than myself. not set above by my own hand but cast out by theirs, how am I to respond? where does this deep seeded primordial steeped memory come from? was this the reasons we took to living away from light, in caves, once cast out we took on the mantel of everything which cause that same horror and dread in those who cast us out as they had instill in us as they interred the first swath of our blood within the earthen walls.
is this what transpired? is that the source of our blood lust? this feeling of life slipping away, stolen away, makes us hunger for more, desire more, and as it was 'stolen' once makes us willing to thirst for more in a predatory manner. when death is an omni present reminder all mammals will have sex more and more passionately if you will allow the term, is this then the birth of our passion that we know what judgment was rendered and we all feel we live our moments on borrowed time. I am shaken (not stirred) to my foundations as a kraft of well water is shaken all the way down by a falling stone. Dislodged, torrential, ultimately settling once more with no harm done, but things not quite the same. what time of year this is i'm sure influences this, as does spending so much time with R “vamp” Brown and Ash Black yet still this is that does not seem to be all saying that's the 'source' tastes metallic and dead on my tongue like blood gone bad and i'd more willingly say that the way you're dreams have touched me caused this than any environmental factors i'd think of.. yet this still feels as mine, something that was even if it was unseen until this conflux of events, people, places, and that's what the crux is, it feels revealed by those outside influences, reveal is in no way created. I exhale my breath as if to reaffirm that I am what I am and alive is a part of that. what little wonder is there in the aspect of willing death over consignment when that restraint always seen is the tomb better a true pure death, a clean death and that.
an outlaw never goes quietly. i realized a little while ago that if i believed i would be able to worm my way out of there even if it took a while I wouldn't mind so much being bound... but this, this is the true gall, the clawing in my gut that makes terror turn to bloodsprayed rage and abandon.
so, wakey wakey vamp, it's time to remember who you are, there are profound truths you've been playing at not seeing for far to long, and you just aren't meant or thankfully able to keep lying to yourself about them anymore... now it's only a pity your night visions so wavery just now and those shapes still remain a bit unclear..