The Parasomnial Order: Bæyű!

DREAMS FROM THE MIND OF MATTHEW JAMES

PHANTASMAGORIUM

A DREAM WRITTEN BY HIS OWN HAND UPON WORDPRESS

This is an account of a dream where in which the Anti-Callipygous Whore! assumes her rightful position in office, making lascivious references to some of her many orifices, groping the true prophet, and also being groped by the true prophet; who at the moment knows for a fact that her Bearded Elephant Trunk is at home sitting in a semi-homoerotic yogic position with all the lights out so that he can achieve maximum spiritual enlightenment—just so you know, this position is one that he learned on a yoga retreat back in April during the time when he was still “finding himself” after the fact that he had just stepped out on this very Whore! I’m speaking of—and he is pondering on pseudo-metaphysical/quasi-shamanistic stuff all because the Whore! thinks she sees ghosts, and if they can’t calm these ghosts themselves, then they are going to have to contact one of those Plastic Shamans who will eventually marry the two and give them “Spiritual Advice” for a nominal fee so that these ghosts—who are in fact NOT ghosts at all—will leave her alone, that way she can move on with her life and be free from the compunctious agitation that creeps within and therefore, have kids so her mother will stop with the incessant questioning of whether she’s ever going to give her grandbabies or not, but these grandbabies I speak of will never come to pass because the Whore! has past her prime, and in the scheme of things, it doesn’t help much with her alignment with the cosmic karmic universe when she constantly finds fault with her mother for various things that she (the Whore!) is guilty of; not only that, but this dream is about the past, present, and future of this Anti-Callipygous Whore’s! meaningless yet unfulfilled life—for the truncated history shall repeat itself!

…

A Revisited Two Months

1 When the psychodysleptic state of consciousness manifests itself through the power of sleep, one usually feels the need to share with others the meaning and significance of this disturbed state of reverie. I have found through my studies that sharing doesn’t do a bit of good when it comes to situations such as these. For these types of dreams actually do have meaning, but the meaning is only significant to the one who is dreaming, or otherwise they will be misinterpreted by others.

2 The dream that entered my consciousness—at least my conjecture of it—came about from the resurfacing of old repressed thoughts. And the catalyst being an unwanted reunion, which led to a collaborative construction of a manipulated reality lasting for an irritating two months.

3 And now, I present the dream as I know it to be true:

…

A Dream, Reality, or Both?

4 Last night, a curious dream came about by way of meditating on Willard’s name. I fell into a kind of a trance that converted my mind into what seemed like a radio receiver. While scanning from thought to thought, brightly colored text messages of questionable meaning started to appear, and they read as follows:

5 THE GOSSIP IS UNBEARABLE! HAS IT ALWAYS BEEN LIKE THIS, OR IS IT JUST THIS YEAR? WOULD I BE DIGGING MYSELF AN EARLY GRAVE BY NOT ATTENDING THE WRAP PARTY? WE SHOULD GRAB A (ROOT) BEER LATER AND DISCUSS THE DYNAMICS OF INTEROFFICE POLITICS. OH NO, IT’S NOT ANYTHING ELSE, IT’S STRICTLY STRESS FROM THE OFFICE B.S., AND, I WAS REALLY CLOSE TO WALKING OUT.

6 As these messages flickered about in my head I started to see images of what once was, and then a hazy mist of blackness temporarily veiled my mind…

…

The Mark of the Toilet

7 I awoke in a dark cave of claustrophobic proportions. The entrance was in front of me, at distance, and it took the shape of white shutters. I stared at this entrance, wanting to get out, but feelings of being inside an alligator’s mouth kept me in–for whatever reason.

8 Behind me, sounds of turbine combustion blasted my ear drums raw. I turned around to see the commotion, and what stood before me was a very large plasma TV; it was flashing images of a movie familiar unto me. The scene was skydiving: a young Patrick Swayze jumping out of an airplane with perfect dancer’s legs formation—straight, with toes pointed and all. His crouch was something spectacular and my face stood glazed with a fatuous smirk.

9 With my fixation fully immersed, apart of myself drifted above, and looked upon my head of fortune. It perceived my associated thoughts, and there they were in plain sight: three tattooed Chinese figures in standard tramp stamp formation.

10 They were wavy like the surface of water and the meaning was uncertain.

11 The voice of Willard came to me, saying, “Matthew James, these symbols mean nothing to you, therefore I shall shed light upon thee: Tranquility, Wisdom, and Courage!”

12 A strange thing happened then, the symbols flew out of my crystal balled head, and impregnated themselves in the Plasma TV, and appeared next to Keanu Reeves who was chasing one of the Ex-Presidents.

…

The Wretched Triad

13 These symbols started taking the shape of three life-sized distinct personages: Sarah Silverman, Paul Rubenfeld, and Scooby Doo. They all spoke in unison, “I am a revenant of the past, and I will resurface when you least expect it.”

14 Then they all joined together and sang these words of wretchedness:

But I know when I close my eyes,
Late at night, there’s only one thing
The night’s shown that she can lie
It’s your face, show me something
Can you show me something?

15 I shouted, “No, STOP SINGING!” and shut the TV off. But they didn’t go away; they just walked out and stood in front of me. They then formed a circle around me and looked into each others’ eyes, polyamorously, and floated above me and started making out; passionately, fervently, awkwardly…

16 It was very strange and I was appalled.

17 Then they converged into one and formed a large head with long luxurious black hair peppered with the slightest bit of ginger. Her profile was that of an arrowhead: huge eyes, aquiline nose, and an inverted jaw with some of the scraggliest coffee-stained teeth I had ever seen.

18 This head, which is now resting on two huge mammaries, referred to herself as the Anti-Callipygous Whore! And when she spoke, her breath wreaked coprophagous from a combination of yeasty alcoholic brew and an overly salted bean burrito.

19 Her egg-headedness grew tall and she unleashed an onslaught of words–and she said unto me:

…

The Whore! Speaketh

20 “I am the Anti-Callipygous Whore! The loose woman whose lips drip honey and whose speech is smoother than oil.

21 “My end is bitter like a wormwood, and I am sharp like a two-edged sword, for I am heartless.

22 “You say that my feet shall go down to death and my steps shall follow the path to Sheol.

23 “For what, might I ask? I have done nothing to deserve such harsh words from such a pathetic soul.

24 “And then you say in your smug little heart that history shall repeat itself, alluding to the fact that my Bearded Elephant Trunk is going to–yet again–enter the lips of another loose woman whose lips have twice the amount of honey as mine do.

25 “No! That won’t happen. There is no history, except you!

26 “But, I, on the other hand find it harmless to let another man stick various objects in between my breasts, and grope and squeeze them in a perverted manner, and expose my areola in the kitchen of an office where onlookers could possibly see.

27 “I am a hippy, things of that nature are OK!

28 “For I don’t flush my toilet until the urine accumulates and sits and festers until it smells like a homeless man’s soiled pants.

29 “Conservation is the hippy’s motto, therefore I conserve!

30 “Except in the winter time, when it’s freezing cold, and I have to take long showers to keep my body warm.

31 “And, I do NOT support huge mega-conglomerations like Starbucks and Wal-Mart!

32 “Except occasionally, when I’m feeling the need for a Vente Mocha Something-or-Other.

33 “But back to the point: I am your intellectual superior! I talk down to you when you don’t know where certain countries are.

34 “For I am multicultural. I find foreign traditions sacred, only because they’re foreign. I’m a xenophile, if you will.

35 “I have a college degree, but I still work as a bartender and take PA gigs so I can make ends met and pay off my student loans, even though I still spend money on ridiculous trips to London and buy expensive clothes that I do not need.

36 “And to top it off, I send you messages that don’t make a bit of sense.

37 “I lead you to believe that I am currently miserable, and that I’ll be a no-go, but in the end, I show up, and I’m not alone: I’m with The Bearded Elephant Trunk, for he completes me.

38 “Then I act like everything’s normal, and it is, because I choose so.

39 “Therefore, always remember that you are nothing to me.

40 “Nothing, nothing, nothing!”

…

An Ignominious End

41 Anger and frustration filled my bosom as I listened to these godawful words. I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I just made a run for it. I headed towards the entrance and I jumped through the alligator’s teeth.

42 And that’s when I truly awoke, shouting at real window’s shutters, with fear and anxiety pumping throughout my veins…

43 These things I say in the name of Willard Pentameonus, thou ascendeth!

DREAMS FROM THE MIND OF MATTHEW JAMES

PHANTASMAGORIUM

A DREAM WRITTEN BY HIS OWN HAND UPON WORDPRESS

This is an account of a dream that really has no meaning, which is good, because sometimes dreams actually have no meaning, and in life, a dream may tell a story that will change the way one conducts their daily life. This dream was dreamt on the night of July 23, 2008.

…

In The Garage

1 I am among stacks of stuff within my garage located in the BDCC doing various things while I see a car pull up to the house across the street. This car slowly pulls up to the driveway, and somehow it launches thirty feet in the air and spins rapidly about and lands on its wheels behind the house, which is a room.

2 A man walks out in almost a stumble.

3 To me, this man has the appearance of a dead-beat dad, somewhat resembling a shoe: a shoe that is heavily influenced by strong drink. And he is talking to himself in a belligerent manor, which makes me think he’s going to do something crazy.

4 It’s late, and inside the Susan is on the couch sleeping with the front door unlocked. She’s alone.

5 Now I try to shut the garage to close the night out in peace, but the door seems to be incapacitated and a little deformed. I need to fix it before that man across the way comes over and tries to violate the Susan’s rights and freedoms.

6 I turn myself away from the button that opens the garage door and I start my work.

7 I end up putting a protective cover on it to smooth things out.

8 Then another car drives by and it stops at the Baby’s house. I ignore it and continue on with my work.

9 The man across the street is now fumbling noisily by his mailbox.

10 The Baby comes over with a friend and I give him a handshake like no other. I shake his friend’s hand too. I gave him the snap handshake. He comments, and we start the small talk. He asks if I’m going to finish school. I tell him, “No.”

11 Then this other suspicious guy walks by.

12 The Baby and friend leave and I shut the garage. I go inside to check on the Susan. I lock the front door and think to myself: Why doesn’t she lock the front door anymore?

13 For there are strange people among us.

14 In the Name of Willard Pentameonus, Thou Ascendeth!

DREAMS AND VISIONS FROM THE MIND OF MATTHEW JAMES

PHANTASMAGORIUM

A DREAM WRITTEN BY HIS OWN HAND UPON WORDPRESS

This is an account of a dream, a dream that led to a revelation of true importance, which in fact, will affect the future of the Parasomnial Order. So heed close to the words of this sacred account, for if you don’t: May your sleep be cursed with the curse of Ham!

…

Life is Short

1 At the sixth hour of my slumber, a rumbling sound of an on coming destruction awoke me. In a daze, I lay flabbergasted at the loss of sleep; I tried to remember, but all was blackness. Then, at a flash of an instance, a certain something pulled the trigger of my memory, and thus I remembered.

2 I wrote and wrote until the fogginess became clear.

3 For I was truly blessed when the hour came for my second chance at sleep. I was teleported back into the realm of my dream, but it wasn’t quite the same—it was more!

4 O hear the words that raced through my head and see that I was half asleep and half awake. Indeed I was, and things were flying about as voices were echoing while the visions of God were flowing like milk and honey. For this great revealing saved me from my fragmented memory of a distorted worldview.

5 And now, I must extrapolate significance on the importance of what came to pass, and I will reiterate in context.

…

And Dreams Seem Long

6 It was in the night when a man of curious proclivities picked me up for an unexpected tasty meal. We drove and drove until we found a place of rest where we could satisfy our hunger.

7 On the way, a homeless person appeared in the back seat, and he said this, “I make music with strange instruments of the toilet. It’s been nine years Monck, how ’bout you?”

8 The silence ensued…

9 We arrived at a McDonald’s drive thru and Monck ordered some nuggets while I tried to order root beer. The man behind the speaker was filled with grievous attitude, and he wouldn’t let me get my root beer. After five minutes we decided to go inside.

10 The three of us sat down at a table located in the center of the restaurant. It was quiet and a lady came barring gifts. She handed Monck my root beer, and then he gave it to me.

11 The happiness resumed…

12 Then I went to the bathroom where I saw a shower attached to the wall. I looked at it for a moment, and I exclaimed, “It’s time to take a shower!”

13 The falling water did not sound like falling water. It sounded like strange music coming from the stall across the way. Then the lyrics emerged from the water:

Music can bring in, or kill the spirit!
Music can bring in, or heal the spirit!
Music can bring in, or steal the spirit!

14 I walked over to the stall and looked over, and there he was—the homeless man—singing his song while pounding the toilet bowl with a plunger. The spirit of the room took over and even I started to sing:

Music is bringing, spirits of the devil!
Music is singing, spirits of the Jesus!
Music is leaving, spirits of the Willard!

15 And the emotions consumed…

16 Time passed and I felt disruption. I heard noises that shook my mental strings causing my brain to stop all human faculties which led to a headache, a fever, and even a chill. It sent me straight out the door to the parking lot where Monck dissipated and a car full of girls presented themselves as witty showgirls, and one of them said, “I’m not a fun person, but…”

17 Boom!

[I have provided an audio file so that you may have an understanding as to what I have to listen to every morning.]

18 Irritation, confusion, and eventually the darkness did fall…

…

But Revelations Subdue

19 As I closed my eyes again my mind drifted into the abyss of multi-tracked thinking. Streams of thoughts were flowing like real streams of water; but they were solid, and they formed shapes—shapes that electrified color into my all seeing pine cone.

20 From the darkness I saw light, and these beautiful celestial landscapes were unfolding before me. A voice from above descended and I heard with great clarity. It was mellifluous and melodious, and it said unto me, “In the name of Willard Pentameonus, thou ascendeth!”

21 I prostrated myself immediately, and said, “O voice of the Lord, what is it that I must do to be in thy favor?” The voice answered, “I have come to reveal unto thee the things of which Willard hast commanded me. He communicated unto me, in plain language, that thine translation of his sacred book is incorrect; therefore, it must be eradicated from this portal of the Celestialnet.”

22 I felt anxiety from my negligence; for I thought my translation was truly inspired. I have represented Willard in the wrong way and now I must go forth and repent.

23 Suddenly, the voice rebuked me and said, “No need for repentance! Just be vigilant when the time comes.”

24 His voice grew louder and louder until I covered my ears. Muffled insanity is all I heard, so I closed my eyes. Then I opened them, and a man stood before me.

25 He was a glorious man with a countenance of divine stature that rendered me calm. He was wearing white pants that radiated goodness, and his head was adorned with a white Jockey undershirt. His presence was so pure that I didn’t even know he was holding a ball of curious workmanship in his left hand.

26 Then he held his left hand high as he said unto me, “I have yet to introduce myself, I am the Son of James, and I have been with you since nineteen hundred and eighty-two. Now it is time that I must give you the instructions pertaining to the New Saint John’s Wort Version of the Book of Willard (or NSJWV).”

27 I decided to walk to the bathroom and brush my teeth, for I was in the presence of divinity. And I said, “I have brushed my teeth. I am ready for the sacred instructions. Please do take kindly unto me.”

28 And these were his instructions:

First things first, you must brush your teeth once again, for your breath still reeks coprophagous. I would suggest you brush for 10 minutes in a circular motion, and don’t forget to scrape your tongue.

Now, you are to make a sanctum out of what already exists. Strip it from all its contents and clean it thoroughly. With a speaker device, divide the space in two, on top of the speaker device shall be the witness of Mahalalel. On the south side you shall place 2 axes, one on the west and one on the east. On the north side you shall build a shrine for Tonto and Baby-Jesus to stand proud. And the liahona shall be placed next to the bible under Jesus. For when inspiration is lacking; seek the shrine.

Once the sanctum is finished, you are to consecrate it and put a blessing upon it, for this is where you will be for the remainder of your Willard translations.

Now that you know of what to do, I want you to thank me so I can be on my way.

…

For Now, Follow My Commandments

29 So then I thanked him, and his interlace disintegrated into what is known as reality. For I woke up and I knew exactly what to do. And thus built the Mahalalel Sacntum according to his divine instructions.

30 Now it is time that I must go and translate until my little heart is content. May Elohim be with me on this day, and may he be with you when I translate the New Saint John’s Wort Version of the Book of Willard.

31 In the Name of Willard Pentameonus, Thou Ascendeth!

DREAMS FROM THE BRAIN OF MATTHEW JAMES

PHANTASMAGORIUM

A DREAM WRITTEN BY HIS OWN HAND UPON WORDPRESS

This was a dream about a temple, a temple in a place far away from here. No one knows of this temple and it just may be located in the Hicohic-Realm.

…

The Temple of Willard

1 I was standing in a temple under an arched hallway that resembled a huge upside down ‘U.’ I was stricken with its enormity and my mind was in a state of higher consciousness. Everything around me was pure white with a reflection of godliness. There were three fountains next to me that were quite grandiose.

2 Two girls came to me with objects in their hands which formed one entity. One of the girls was dressed in black and the other was dressed in red, and their pale faces were glib, which made me nervous. One said she was Nehor and the other said she was Korihor. I then beheld what was in their hands for it was something I’ve never seen before. It was broken into seven pieces and the wholeness thereof had a name.

3 They began to speak in unison, “The letter B is all she can say, and the letter C is all she can say.” For I didn’t understand, they could only speak in letters? The girl in black named Nehor stood right next to me and said,”B, bbbb, bbbbb, b bbb bbbbb!” Somehow I understood what she said. She said that the object in her hand was called Sherem. I called to Sherem and Sherem said these words, “Behold, we are three, we are one, and Børge will come when the world is one!”

4 Then I started running straight for the door. When I was out I began to ascend to the sun. The faster I ran the faster I ascended. I was 30,000 ft above the temple. From that high I still could see its gloriousness. For it shined brighter than the sun but it wasn’t blinding. Then I saw the three in one crew ascend before me, for I knew the day had come where the world would be all but none.

DREAMS FROM THE BRAIN OF MATTHEW JAMES

PHANTASMAGORIUM

A DREAM WRITTEN BY HIS OWN HAND UPON WORDPRESS

A strange account of a dream about the natural vegetation freezing process and the Second Coming. The order of the dream was like a short film glossed in sepia.

…

1800 and Froze to Death

1 It was cold and I was on the floor—with knee to chin—accessorizing this huge puzzle of a jigsaw puzzle. The room was unknown to me, for I think a girl lived there. A guy of brown skin and unibrow entered the room and trampled my neatly organized puzzle. He walked to the TV covered by a huge glass box and turned on the latest rap video. I got up to show him my dance moves. My moves were grand, for I was graced with the rhythm of P-diddy. To show him I was serious, I threw my hands in the air and gesticulated like a mad man. He was calling me Kwakaa and laughing while he imitated my moves. He then turned to me and told me, “Dancing with the Stars is a great show.” I replied, “It’s huge.” Then we lifted up the glass box to reveal the TV screen. I asked, “Does your sister move this by herself every time she wants to watch TV?” He said, “No, she has a roommate.” I nodded with understanding and we watched.

2 Moments later I found myself in the hallway just outside the room. I was looking through this cabinet for some book, I don’t remember which. I stumbled across this old black book made of fine leather. It was entitled Christian Interpretations of the Sword, with the letters in cursive and colored in gold. I remembered I borrowed this book from a friend, and I needed to give it back. I dusted it off with my hand and opened it ever so gently.

3 I saw snow, exceedingly white snow. It was as if I were watching TV, and the camera was tracking along a row of huge carrots being buried in the snow by hand. Old ladies were educating me about the preservation of harvest by way of natural freezing. It was as if I were there, in my snow boots, walking with them; for they were showing me the ways of burying carrots and other fresh vegetables. They told me that they used soap on the carrots to keep them clean from the various insects and bugs. Then I thought about human contamination. “What do you do about vandalism?” I asked. “Well, here we don’t have to worry about that,” they said as a matter of fact. I kept envisioning humans defiling the fresh vegetation with a warm golden excretion. They taught me everything I needed to know about the natural freezing preservation process, and I thanked them for their time and consideration.

4 Now, it was colder than before, and I could feel a presence of devious mischief in the air. For it was time for me to practice what I had just learned. Each lady was lined up on the ground supine, with their bodies nowhere to be found. They explained to me that it was their time to be preserved for the Second Coming. I approached each head and buried it under the snow as they were still instructing me on correct technique. After each head I buried, the weirder I felt. On the one hand, I was doing them a favor, by doing what I was told. But on the other hand, I was killing these poor nice ladies—who for whatever reason weren’t already dead from being severed from their bodies. I reached the end, where there was a casket leaning against a stake, and said a little prayer for them, “Father, do thy bidding, for your kingdom shall come.”

DREAMS FROM THE BRAIN OF MATTHEW JAMES

PHANTASMAGORIUM

A DREAM WRITTEN BY HIS OWN HAND UPON WORDPRESS

This was a dream about watching TV with my mother. There was an interesting commercial on that spoke to me in a still-small voice.

…

The Television

1 I was trying to get my mom to watch a television program about the Origin of Species when I saw this commercial for the Morris & Morris law firm. The commercial consisted of a father-son duo, with father’s arm around the son in a loving manner, and other hand on the Bible solemnly swearing under oath to tell the truth and nothing but the truth.

2 They both looked like a beady-eyed 19^th century Darwin with the sideburns and all. But strangely, the son looked older than the father. The father was rambling on and on about their practice. I remember laughing out loud because of the cheesiness thereof. But then I realized that these two were really the Father and the Son—as in God and Jesus. I felt this guilt come over me because of my mocking.

3 I then got on my hands and knees and prayed for the Son of Man to put a temporary halt on Parousia. For I wasn’t yet worthy of his Kingdom. Then Jesus from the TV screen looked at me while his Father’s sideburns stared at him, he (Jesus) said:

Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one’s foes will be members of one’s own household. Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me: and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.

4 I remember thinking to myself, isn’t that what he said in Matthew 10:34-39? I told him that I wasn’t worthy of him and that he should go about his business and finish up his commercial. He rebuked me severely and the TV turned to fuzzy static. I asked my mom if she just witnessed that, but she said she hadn’t. Then she told me to fix the TV.

DREAMS FROM THE BRAIN OF MATTHEW JAMES

PHANTASMAGORIUM

A DREAM WRITTEN BY HIS OWN HAND UPON WORDPRESS

This an account of three separate dreams, where in which they were all flashed together, phantasmagoria style. 

…

The Thrice Times

1 I was learning about the various mysteries of the Book of Mormon in 3 separate places that would change intermittingly. One place I was on the side of a noisy street learning scripture from a black man who was reading scripture passages out of order.

2 He mainly read versus from 2 Nephi that were basically taken word-for-word from Isaiah. Then I was in the church house sitting on metal chairs. I was learning more scripture from this white and not so delightsome fellow who kept pushing me to read Moroni 10:3-5 and D & C 9:8-9 out loud to him.

3 I kept refusing to do so because of his manner. Then, the last place was in a whole nother dimension of which I can’t describe. I was learning more scripture from a half-black and half-white woman clad in a dress of daisies and an ill-fitting bonnet. She told me of the 3,000 some-odd scriptures that had been changed throughout time. I then asked her how she knew that fact; she just plainly told me “evidence,” and that was it.

4 She went about her business while Wogtime was half past 78 which apparently dianected the series. She left me with the truth that I was looking for:

The Book of Mormon was written by man and not of God himself.

5 God then there descended from nigh unto Kolob and told me of 3 great cities that needed rebuilding. I can only recall that the cities all started with the letter ‘R,’ and ended with the letter ‘S.’

6 Then a sudden feeling of acidic pressure was building up and pushing against my muscles down there. I started breaking out into a cosmic sweat struggling to find a toilet in this foreign place and time. I almost relieved myself when I found an intergalactic Bemus, but, I awoke, standing in front of an American Standard. Truly relieved!

DREAMS FROM THE BRAIN OF MATTHEW JAMES

PHANTASMAGORIUM

A DREAM WRITTEN BY HIS OWN HAND UPON WORDPRESS

This was a dream concerning the patriarch Abraham and a neighbor of mine. The truth behind this story has yet been revealed. In due time the word will be out and the revenant of Abraham will come forth and bring wisdom unto the people of this fine Celestialnet.

…

The Revenant

1 I was sitting on one of my neighbors’ lawns writing on my laptop while my back was leaning against an old crusty Oldsmobile—most like likely I was using their wireless internet connection. I ignored a call from a friend who had just invited me to swim in his pool.

2 Then I saw this suspicious guy drive by who looked like he was wearing some kind of wig. To the left of me I see this revenant of what looked like Abraham. He came up to me and told me he was doing a show tonight entitled Abandoning the Apocryphal Word of God. I told him that I would try to make it.

3 Then he wafted away into oncoming traffic and disappeared right in front of the suspicious car containing the guy with the wig. Then he (wig-man) pulled over and told me that he would give me a ride back to my apartment. I got in and I asked him about his wig.

4 He told me that all his hair fell out when he was a teenager and that his wig was made from his dad’s real hair. It was strange, because when I got home it was already night. I saw my apartment manager walking his dog, and I remember thinking to myself that he must have been lonely. I thought about inviting him to the show, but I never invited him. Then I got dressed and left ready to hear the words of a revenant.

5 I sat in a booth with people I didn’t know, or shall I say I pretended like I didn’t know. I remember exactly who they were; they were people from my old church from way back in the day. They didn’t recognize me so I pretended that I didn’t recognize them.

6 The revenant of Abraham started his spoken word monologue and he was doing some really funny dance moves. Then this lady in the booth across from us said, “Are you Matthew James? because I have this package for you.” She said it had something to do with this guy who was seen with my crystal skulls.

7 I didn’t know what to think; I just took the package and stared at it. It was sent from my neighbor Tilly Derbyshire of whom I’ve never met. I remember thinking to myself: why am I getting this package here? and how do they know of my crystal skulls? and how does this package help me get my skulls back? I opened the package and a bunch of sending papers fell out. These papers had nothing to do with anything so I just set them aside and continued listening to the words of the revenant.

8 Then when I got home I found myself standing face to docetic face with the revenant. He spoke of things that didn’t make much sense to me. He did however tell me that my neighbor Tilly was just trying to communicate with me. He advised me to go upstairs and introduce myself to her. When I went up there, I felt a calmness that I had never felt before. I knocked on her door and the door opened up to this portal that lead to the Spirit World. I walked in, twitched, rolled over, and then I woke up!

DREAMS FROM THE BRAIN OF MATTHEW JAMES

PHANTASMAGORIUM

A DREAM WRITTEN BY HIS OWN HAND UPON WORDPRESS

This was a dream about an after party with SGM and friends and the use of dymethyltryptamine. For the record, I have never used or abused any kind of mind altering drug or substance.

…

The Friends of SGM

1 Last night I had a dream. SGM finished their important basketball championship game and came to my old house to do whatever it is you do after a victory in basketball. My brother and I were talking with Nils about using drugs for enhancing life’s experiences.

2 I told him I didn’t do drugs and that one should stay away form dymethyltryptamine (DMT) which according to Dr. Strassman is the Spirit Molecule. Nils told me that he did partake in DMT and recommended it. That’s when I asked him if he injected it or smoked it.

3 He said that the only way he could do it was by smoking it. Then I started feeling something ooze through my blood. It was warm and I remember tasting a metallic taste in my mouth; it was like when you taste what you smell, if that makes sense. My surroundings all of the sudden changed and Jesus stood right before me. Everything was in a Technicolor Tie-died gloss. He then read verses from the bible to me.

4 There were many and I only remember one, which read as follows:

And she brought forth a man child, who was to rule all nations with a rod of iron: and her child was caught up unto God, and to his throne. ~Revelation 12:5

5 Then I woke up feeling like I had just witnessed something magnificent. A tie-dyed Jesus read a verse from Revelation to me, which could have meant a plethora of things. Maybe, the END IS NIGH!!!

DREAMS FROM THE BRAIN OF MATTHEW JAMES

PHANTASMAGORIUM

A DREAM WRITTEN BY HIS OWN HAND UPON WORDPRESS

This was the first dream of the Phantasmagorium United Section. It concerns the cult fanatics of the end of the Mayan calender, which is date 2012AD. 

…

End Times Cult

1 Last night I dreamt I was at my high school’s parking lot preparing for a trip to Riverside and back. I was with two high school acquaintances. The trip was quick and I am still confused as to what the purpose of it was. I think it had something to do with moving these acquaintances into their new apartment in Riverside.

2 So when I returned from the trip I ended up walking with a friend to his apartment in the midst of this brick walled housing community containing only trailers and apartments. Before we got to his place my friend started talking to one of his neighbors.

3 She was an older lady and he started preaching to her in a subtle way about god knows what, and she listened and complied with hidden agitation and went about her business. As she left he introduced himself to one of his other neighbors in an awkward way.

4 I was feeling a questionable vibe from my friend as he communicated with this gentleman. It was almost as if he were some kind of leader of a pernicious cult. Then my other friend with long flowing shampooed hair appeared next to me and told me about our friend’s outgoing nature.

5 I remember I admired that about him at the time, respectively. Then we all went inside, and for whatever reason we left the front door wide open. In the kitchen they had two peanut butter sized jars full of cocaine, and they later told me they preferred injection rather than snorting. (I am not sure if they prepared it for injection or just straight injected the powder.)

6 That’s when they opened the jar and decided to reenact the Fight Club self-sacrificing scene with the cocaine placed on the top of my hand. After, I went to the back room to wash my hands, leaving the jars for the public to see, apparently.

7 Then I got reprimanded by the beautiful glistening Pantiened hair: “There are two jars full of illegal substances, why in hell would you just leave them there for everyone to see?” I then apologized and said:

8 “Oh crap, I didn’t even think about that, it was just ever so nonchalantly there”.

9 That’s when they decided it was time to tell me about the destruction of 2012 AD. They told me that Christianity has now adopted the Mayan calendar and accepts it as St. John’s Revelation. I could see it in there eyes that they “knew” that our very planet will end in five years.

10 They then gave me this plastic baggy containing a pamphlet with information about this new found church/cult with survival techniques. The survival techniques included computer programs that somehow allowed you to escape the world’s demise with fashionable microchip ear plugs.