The Parasomnial Order: Bæyű!

THE THIRD VISION OF MATTHEW JAMES

TEXT WRITTEN PSEUDONYMOUSLY BY THE PROPHET MATTHEW JAMES

History of the Parasomnial Order, vol. 7, pp. 96, 251 – 256.

A DREAM-VISION 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! In other words, this is the third vision of Matthew James the prophet.

…

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 slicker 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 meet. I’m also in debt, but 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!