Was it the hypnosis videos I listened to again last night to relax? Was it her who opened the door again?
It began last night and they, the memories, have continued creeping in since I awoke. Like a pocket of memory with an ever-widening hole and these fragments keep slipping through. Recollections hiding in this strange mood, now emerging before me yet again. The same things I always remember about the place, be it a parascom or otherwise, though now I feel closer to them.
A phosphorescent oasis in the midst of a dark wasteland. Ferns and trees glowing neon. A sense of beauty and lethality within this patch of jungle. Across the desert, predatory creatures, like swiftly-moving psycho-pompoms with long spider legs. Sand and hard ground and rock formations. An underground place, fairly well hidden, that I call home. Death machines, war machines, like triangular tanks without visible guns and with wheels that stretch far above my head. Every brief and vivid memory, so convincingly lifelike. Within the memory my vision seems widescreen, crystalline clear and farsighted. Bigger and better eyes, perhaps, or an atmosphere high in oxygen. As that creature pounces, dust flies up and settles slowly, as if the wasteland is low in gravity. This can’t be earth. I can’t be human. This can’t be real, the rational part of me insists. Why do I remember this as if I were there? Why so rich an illusion, so strange a lie? Just let me see the face I’m looking out of. I keep striving for my reflection in these forbidden recollections.
If this is real, what does it mean? If it’s not real — what the fuck does it all mean?
Some greater understanding here would be nice…