Friday, September 19, 2008

The monster in the mist

The monster was one in human form. He stayed inside his incredibly strong keep for years. No force could hold him really and the sense of wanting everything he saw was a weakness which made him shallow and vain. The problem was that although his cavern was covered in specially bound metal he could break free at any time.

He was a loud bushy mustached barrel chested amiable beast of a man. He adorned himself with long stemmed horned helmets and special designed armor from another time. He was immortal and he was bored.

When unleased upon the world he wasa whirlwind. A terrible storm which could not be bound. Most often he was allowed to blow himself out. The loneliness of complete destruction was the only thing which held him back from a complete wipeout of the population.

Somehow I became a guest of the monster. He pondered ceaselessly about the need to head outside and run destructively about. His goal? -to try new things; like many of us the monster wanted whatever he could not have.

It was for this reason that locked in his cavern he must remain. I understood this, he understood this and his other visitor did not. She was all mist and low on substance.

By dumbfounded circumstance I found myself in the company of a guffable monster whose mere prescence would cause walls to tremble. Once in motion the monster could not be stopped -buildings would crumble, ordance repelled and invincibly strong.

In talking to the beast it became clear to me that his envy was great but as long as his interest was kept at bay he would remain inside. Devoid of this barrier the beast would burst forth causing havoc and great destruction.He was both the immovable object and the irresistable force.

The monsterous, Viking-like immortal would crave whatever was seen or any enticing thing that he heard. I therefore admonished the other guest not to provoke his interest. Like mist she could not be contained.

I really tried to hold back the beast, lest he be loosed upon the world. The knowledge of his great strength was obvious -the walls would tremble upon his spoken word. In his waypath was a pool of poisonous waters. Along the path -was a safe haven.

The monster could take many tongues and oneheard his speech in one's own langauge. He would try to provoke one to feed his hunger for vibrant concepts. The girl of mist could not be stopped. My hand fell onto the poisonous waters and the monster held the only cure.

A short shower later and the monster was loosed. Unable to contain himself he was content for the moment to retain his new guest. Not through force but skillful manipulatiion of ideas beyond her comprehension.

So did the girl of the mist, fade away. The monster stayed home. I returned to tell this tale.

Welcome to Zweble

Contained within this site are what will seem to the reader to be a series of short stories. Such a description would be dead wrong. For the most part these are my travels into the dream scape where some believe that we exist in other realities (our spiritual presence seemingly cannot be argued since we awaken with a vision of the environment).

Many of us have constant, deep and richly filled dreams. The sad thing is that most of these experiences go undocumented. This blog attempts to close the loophole of lost dreams.

In addition to dreams we sometimes explore the fantastic and improbable stark reality of our waking world. Topics appear on this blog that only our imaginations can dream up. If you would like to be able to post your dreams, please send an email to tcarternyc(at)hotmail(dot)com.