Tree of Immortality

    Heh, the one thing that has always facinated me about starting to go crazy, is that the lines that once seperated reality from your imagination allowing the two to mold into one.  It's a slow prosess at first; initally a person does not realize it.  I don't know for sure how it works in other people but I think I started to loose my edge once I lost my ability to dream.  Dreams are a powerful tool for mankind; many believe it is a window into your inner soul.  But there are those out there that believe dreams are part of a bigger picture although they have no idea what it is.  Some believe that they are memories from the past, maybe their past lives.  One things for certain a lot of things got accoplished by dreaming, I am postive that my mind still dreams but mow I don't remember the bulk of it, once in a great while I would recall portions of the dream and those were too intense.

The Last Dream Fragment

    Most of the time I like to let nature take its course in rockig me to sleep, but there have been plenty of times that I was still awake at 5 in the mourning.  I sometimes use some chronic, alcohol or basically any non-stimulant for some sleep assistance.  If I just tried to lay myself down to sleep my mind wonders off in 78,936 different directions; I wish I could get all those voices to shut the fuck up.  I'm coninced that I have developed those voices in my head so that I could get help answering my own questions.  But once I have calmed my mind down I usually go to a time of the day where I felt the most comfortable and from there the story line would get twisted.  In all honesty, I don't know what kind of a person I would be if I had become totally comfortable with every aspect of my life ( I would probably kill someone just so that I could have a little bit of problems).  One thing that I use to love about dreams when I was a child, I had the ability to control them.  Nightmares were my favorite, initally I would be the victim but soon it was an all out war between myself and whoever stood in my way (I became the bad guy).

    Well this particular night I could not control the images that were mainstreamed into my mind, they looked familiar but not (if that makes sense).  The sense of familiarity comforts me into a false sense of security, that's a place I don't want to be.

    It was during the middle of a summer day, I could tell because the sun glare was nowhere to be found, the skies were cloudless and blue.  I was riding passenger seat in a nice gray interior car as I was seemingly chatting up a storm with the man who was driving.  As I took a closer look at the interior I noticed that it was pretty dam similar to the interior of a Silver 2001 Pontiac Grand Prix SE that I was thinking of getting a couple of days earlier.  What caught my eye was the scratch on the dashboard of the passenger side; maybe I was going for a test drive.  During part of the conversation I gazed at the scenery and noticed something, well, out of place.  We were driving eastbound on Tulare St. in a city that was near my hometown, Visalia.  The 7 Eleven on the right side of the road was a dead giveaway; I lived and seen the car in Sierra Vista, Arizona so how did this car make it all the way to California.

    Then there was one feature in the car that stood out above the rest, the steering wheel.  Inside the Black 1992 Honda Accord that I has just finished paying my mother for I  had a steereing wheel cover.  It had red and gray dragons that were contained to their little area by three strips of red leather (when I was younger I had a huge facination with dragons).  In this dream I guess I owned the Pontiac but I don't get why I was sitting passenger side of my own car.  There would be only a few reasons why I wouldn't be driving and one way too drunk to do so, my lisense was suspended, I was about to sell it or my limbs have been dismembered.  My soul got a little excited, something told me that this was wrong but I could rectify it.

    I sort of started to feel a little uncomfortable as  I tried to get a glimpse of the driver, the problem that I had was that I could not control my body.  Every now and then the vision of the driver came into my sights althought I could not get him into focus, it was like my eyes unfocused just for him.  All that I could officially make out of his face was that he had a little receeding hairline with a goatee sharply maintained on his face.  Other than that the only familiar thing about the driver was his laugh, it sounded like my Tio Chemy's.  When he was alive he was like my best friend, everyone knew in my family part of me died with him.  He was dressed in something that sort of looked like a battle uniform that was tattered with different hues of orange and gray along with other accessories.