Dream Reckoning

My dreams, over the last year or so, have all had particular things in common.  The following account is of those similarities, as a log for future reference.

The sky is always heavily clouded and grey. The sun behind the clouds is always that of twilight, or standard dream night. Half-night, if you will, which is quite common I’d imagine… the outdoors is always very dim, but anywhere indoors is always pitch black. The eyes and hands of others in the darkness of the indoors seem to defy this, however, and are illuminated by a ghastly light. These miscellaneous individules, known or unknown, all share a quiet but relatively friendly resignation…as though wherever I find them in my dreams is a place they had been for a very long time, and have no aspirations of anything else.

The landscape is always gentle rolling hills…like the golden prairie paradise of childhood fantasy, only grey and thickened down with weeds. Everything is overgrown. Trash lies everywhere, half buried and eaten by time and land. All structures are in one state of decay or another. The roads are all dirt. I remember seeing a dirty doll, with raggedy ann style hair, peering out of the weeds as I strolled down one of these dirt roads. Most often I share the feelings of the people in the darkness of the dwellings. Sad. Resigned. But sometimes there are the zombies…or something of that nature. The unseen persuing mass. In the darkness of the dream indoors I plot, and fight, and run..