Chat
07-31-2015, 10:11 AM
Dream of July 31, 2015—Demon of Destruction
I'm outside in an open space during the day, at what feels like a relatively large gathering of people. I'm talking to a man who is a close friend of mine. We've been talking for some time, when suddenly I become semi-lucid as a few yards behind him, on the edge of the pale grassy field, a giant demon appears. The beast stands on two legs like a man, deliberately seeming to pause there before attacking, as though relishing how in a moment it will begin destroying everything and everyone in its path. I suffer a sinking feeling in my heart, but I'm really not surprised to see it; in a sense, I know we should all have been expecting this confrontation, and that we have only ourselves to blame for refusing to believe it could actually happen, and not doing enough to prevent it. Now the moment of truth has arrived. I struggle for control of my body as I point, and cry out to my male companion, “Look! We have to run! Run!” I turn and flee, and my friend follows right on my heels. I know the way to a building, down a side street, and over a low yellow-blue wall, running as fast as we can, but I also know it's only a temporary refuge. In the end, there will be nowhere to run from the destruction which has already begun, and which every second draws closer and closer.
We make it to an upper floor of the building. A young girl is there, and the three of us crouch, hiding, on a landing between two rooms. As if responding to my observation, the girl, who selected this particular space in the building, tells me that the floor between rooms is traditionally decorated in a special, artistic fashion which is not only pleasing to the eye, but also serves to elevate our minds and hearts by its contemplation as we walk across it. The destruction is raging outside all around us, not loudly but we can all feel its terrible negative energy. We have to be careful to whisper, to not make a sound the demon will pick up, and hone in on. I'm glad we've reached this one safe haven, but I'm wondering what good it will do, since there is nowhere else to go now, and unless something Supernatural happens to save us, we're sitting ducks. But I have hope, and remain calm...
The next thing I know, I'm looking into a room, at a haunting, mysteriously powerful and yet also subtle, surreal sight. Beneath a large wooden table (covered as if with the remains of a sparse, rustic meal) no more than an inch or two tall, is a shining blue-and-black butterfly standing erect as a person, and holding itself so still, I wonder if it somehow died in this unnatural (for a butterfly) posture. I'm seeing it from behind, so it's beautiful wings look like a long magnificent cloak. I distinctly sense it is very much alive, and that it is deliberately holding itself motionless, suspended like this for some reason. Then horror fills me when the demon barges into the room, sees this man-butterfly, and viciously snatches it up in its claws. I leap to my feet crying, “No! No! Don't kill him! Don't kill him! I won't help you!” Somehow, I know the demon needs me, a human being, to feed its energy and power. The butterfly-man appears utterly passive and helpless, but despite his tiny frailty in comparison with the raging demon threatening him, I know he remains unharmed, and almost seems to be needing me, or waiting for me, to defend him. He is standing on the edge of some surface now, the demon before him ready to crush him, and yet not doing so...
Still in this same building, maybe the same room, I become aware that my mother is with me, and that she is smiling, and calm, and her presence is utterly soothing. And then, far, far above me, I see my maternal grandfather and grandmother looking down at us. They are observing us through a narrow opening, like a door or window, and the space they are in is brightly lit, suffused as if with sunshine. I'm so happy to see them, I think I point up at them wondering if Mami sees them, but apparently she is already aware of them watching us from their new home. She lets me know that, eventually, she will be joining them for some wine. I think how, after I run some errands, I will happily join them, and I know everything is all right, and will always be well, because nothing can destroy our love or prevent us from being together. I sense the demon still raging outside, but I'm no longer afraid of it.
I'm outside in an open space during the day, at what feels like a relatively large gathering of people. I'm talking to a man who is a close friend of mine. We've been talking for some time, when suddenly I become semi-lucid as a few yards behind him, on the edge of the pale grassy field, a giant demon appears. The beast stands on two legs like a man, deliberately seeming to pause there before attacking, as though relishing how in a moment it will begin destroying everything and everyone in its path. I suffer a sinking feeling in my heart, but I'm really not surprised to see it; in a sense, I know we should all have been expecting this confrontation, and that we have only ourselves to blame for refusing to believe it could actually happen, and not doing enough to prevent it. Now the moment of truth has arrived. I struggle for control of my body as I point, and cry out to my male companion, “Look! We have to run! Run!” I turn and flee, and my friend follows right on my heels. I know the way to a building, down a side street, and over a low yellow-blue wall, running as fast as we can, but I also know it's only a temporary refuge. In the end, there will be nowhere to run from the destruction which has already begun, and which every second draws closer and closer.
We make it to an upper floor of the building. A young girl is there, and the three of us crouch, hiding, on a landing between two rooms. As if responding to my observation, the girl, who selected this particular space in the building, tells me that the floor between rooms is traditionally decorated in a special, artistic fashion which is not only pleasing to the eye, but also serves to elevate our minds and hearts by its contemplation as we walk across it. The destruction is raging outside all around us, not loudly but we can all feel its terrible negative energy. We have to be careful to whisper, to not make a sound the demon will pick up, and hone in on. I'm glad we've reached this one safe haven, but I'm wondering what good it will do, since there is nowhere else to go now, and unless something Supernatural happens to save us, we're sitting ducks. But I have hope, and remain calm...
The next thing I know, I'm looking into a room, at a haunting, mysteriously powerful and yet also subtle, surreal sight. Beneath a large wooden table (covered as if with the remains of a sparse, rustic meal) no more than an inch or two tall, is a shining blue-and-black butterfly standing erect as a person, and holding itself so still, I wonder if it somehow died in this unnatural (for a butterfly) posture. I'm seeing it from behind, so it's beautiful wings look like a long magnificent cloak. I distinctly sense it is very much alive, and that it is deliberately holding itself motionless, suspended like this for some reason. Then horror fills me when the demon barges into the room, sees this man-butterfly, and viciously snatches it up in its claws. I leap to my feet crying, “No! No! Don't kill him! Don't kill him! I won't help you!” Somehow, I know the demon needs me, a human being, to feed its energy and power. The butterfly-man appears utterly passive and helpless, but despite his tiny frailty in comparison with the raging demon threatening him, I know he remains unharmed, and almost seems to be needing me, or waiting for me, to defend him. He is standing on the edge of some surface now, the demon before him ready to crush him, and yet not doing so...
Still in this same building, maybe the same room, I become aware that my mother is with me, and that she is smiling, and calm, and her presence is utterly soothing. And then, far, far above me, I see my maternal grandfather and grandmother looking down at us. They are observing us through a narrow opening, like a door or window, and the space they are in is brightly lit, suffused as if with sunshine. I'm so happy to see them, I think I point up at them wondering if Mami sees them, but apparently she is already aware of them watching us from their new home. She lets me know that, eventually, she will be joining them for some wine. I think how, after I run some errands, I will happily join them, and I know everything is all right, and will always be well, because nothing can destroy our love or prevent us from being together. I sense the demon still raging outside, but I'm no longer afraid of it.
